Soul Scars
by Rtnwriter
Summary: What's a girl to do when somewhere out there, there's a boy and every scar he gets appears on her body? When he's being abused? Hermione Granger, for one, is determined to find him and save him. Fourth Year. There's a big event at Hogwarts this year. The DOM is interested in the bonded. Darkness looms, old enemies return to haunt them and new foes make life more difficult.
1. Soul Scars

**Authors Note: All right, here we go gang. Been a LONG time since I tried my hand at the FanFic game so let's see how this goes. I've had this general idea percolating around in my brain for some time now so I finally decided to get it down on paper. At the moment I've got twelve chapters written and it's nearly 60k words in length so I'm not being stingy here. This is definitely going to be an AU story with my own twist on the whole Soul Bond concept. I'm going to stick roughly close to canon up through fourth year, possibly fifth, that's where it's going to take a sharp left into the twilight zone and we'll be totally off the map from then on.**

 **I'll be doing it like the book series, one year per story so I'll try to upload this one say once a week or so and then with any luck I'll spend a few weeks, hammer out half the sequel and continue. I've already got a bunch of little scenes sprinkled throughout the rest of the books that have come to mind written up that I think should be fun and I'm looking forward to getting to them.**

 **This is going to be a Harry/multi story. But I do have a real reason for it too, it's not just an excuse to pair Harry up with multiple girls. It's going to be Harry/Hermione/Daphne/Susan**

 **So without further ado, chapter one of Soul Scars**

Soul Scars

by,

Rtnwriter

In the Wizarding world there are many great and wondrous things alongside just as many terrible things. Magic is an amazing tool to perform good works but it has just as much potential to be turned to evil. Of the many amazing things that can be done with magic or are done because of magic, none is said to be greater than the bonding between two souls. When a witch and a wizards magic and soul both resonate in perfect harmony with each other they are said to be soul mates, a concept known even in the muggle world.

But as with all things, there are two sides to every coin. Soul mates share a distinct relationship, and if that relationship ever progresses to a true bonding of their souls then what happens to one can happen to the other until it has stabilized. Any mark, any scar inflicted upon one bond mate will appear on the other, no matter where they are.

Soul Scars, they're known as. A phenomenon known to every man, woman, and child in the Wizarding world. Few believe them to be real though as a true soul bond is such a rare occurrence. They are only too real, however, and the greatest story yet untold involving scars of the soul will be key to saving everyone. It will take embracing the scars, and the path walked in retrieving them to truly bring forth the light to drown out the darkness.

#####

Lord Voldemort bit back the urge to sigh, frustration mounting in his chest. The silly girl hadn't the good sense given to a niffler when she refused to step out of the way and let him get on with his purpose. As the acid green light of the killing curse struck her he turned away, not even noticing the soft, golden glow that surrounded her body as she fell.

"Harry Potter," he said, his voice a sibilant hiss as he approached the crib. Standing inside, his little hands clutching at the crib railing stood a fifteen month old boy, a shock of unruly black hair crowning his head and brilliant green eyes regarding the Dark Lord with an intensity he had rarely seen even in witches and wizards ten or twenty times his age.

" _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord,_ " he hissed. "There is no way I will let you grow up to one day destroy me. This is where you meet your end, Harry Potter." He lifted his hand, and gestured with the yew wand he held loosely between long, spidery fingers. "Avada Kedavra!" he spat and a vicious smile split his face as a flash of green light shot from the tip of his wand and struck the boy right in his forehead.

Avada Kedavra. The killing curse. A curse that did no physical damage, yet tore the soul from a living being and ripped it asunder. When the curse struck the child though, something unimaginable happened. A golden nimbus surrounded him and he felt, though he couldn't understand, the love and protection of his mother surrounding him as her soul, so recently parted from her body, fought against the terrible curse directed at her child. As the curse filtered through the tattered remnants of his mothers protection the soul of a child was fractured and split. One portion remained within his body as the skin of his forehead split open and the blood began to flow. Three other portions were torn free to float before him, unable to rejoin with the rest of him as long as the taint of evil magic remained on him.

The resulting explosion from the spell backlash happened so fast that the Dark Lord Voldemort didn't even have time to blink much less react as a wave of power rippled outward from the tiny form in the crib and his body was ripped to shreds by the wall of energy. The wall of the room erupted outwards in an explosion that was heard miles away.

Back at the tiny cottage in Godrics Hollow there was no one left to watch as three wisps of golden energy floated out through the shattered wall and suddenly sped away into the night, drawn to those that could nurture and protect them.

#####

In the Ministry of Magic, there exist many departments, each dealing with a portion of Wizarding society. None of them are more shrouded in secrecy than the Department of Mysteries, hidden deep within the ministry itself. In the early hours of the morning, there was no one present throughout much of the Ministry, and thus, there was no one to notice the tree on the wall of a certain room.

Hardly anyone ever entered that room. It was a room where the Unspeakables studied some of the most potent, most powerful magics that existed anywhere in the world. And in that room there was a chart, like a family tree that spread across one entire wall. Dozens of feet high and more wide it listed every living witch or wizard in Great Britain. Lines connected various names. Lines that indicated parents, siblings, spouses, and potential soul mates.

Parents and siblings were connected by a simple, black dotted line to indicate the familial relationship between them. Spouses were connected by a solid red line to show they were married and their marriage was recognized by both Wizarding law and by magic itself.

Soul mates were connected by a gleaming silver dotted line until they met and if they ever entered into a relationship then those lines would become solid.

There were only a handful of solid silver lines on the entire wall.

On the night of November 1st, 1981, the name Harry James Potter flashed once, twice, a third time, and from his name three silver dotted lines extended outward. When the lines reached the names of three young witches all four names flashed again and the simple dotted lines grew and thickened into a solid unbroken silver bar connecting their names together.

A moment later they flashed again, the brilliance of the light bathing the entire room in a soothing glow before fading away, leaving three gleaming golden lines connecting the four names together. Slowly, silver dotted lines extended out as all the names on the wall shifted and moved, creating a clear space for the four names to occupy.

Each witch was connected to the name Harry Potter by the gleaming golden lines. Each witch was also connected to the others with simple dotted silver lines.

No one would notice for several years to come.

#####

There was a quiet crack that split the still night air in the early evening on a small residential street in Crawley. A tall, bald man with dark skin and a gold hoop earring in one ear took stock of his surroundings for a moment before pulling a slender wooden stick from one sleeve and waving it about in an intricate pattern, all the while muttering under his breath.

When he felt the magic take hold he strode forward confidently, red and white robes swirling around his legs as he walked.

He noted the house he was looking for easily enough as he approached, the muggle police vehicle parked outside being a fair giveaway and as he approached he heard a child scream from inside the house and every bit of glass blew out of the windows, littering the snow covered front lawn.

He cursed under his breath as the tingle of accidental magic passed over him and his confident walk turned into a sprint as he rushed into the house, wand flicking back and forth as jets of light shot from the end to strike several of the muggles inside the home.

It was utter chaos.

At least four bobbies collapsed bonelessly to the ground as his stunners struck them. Standing in the center of an overturned family room were a man and a woman with a young girl clutched between them, looks of utter terror etched on their faces.

"Mr. And Mrs. Granger?" he asked in a deep, smooth voice.

The indicated individuals flinched, eyes wide, their arms wrapped protectively around the small form held between them. Above their linked arms all he could see was a shock of bushy brown hair and a pair of fear filled, cinnamon colored eyes peering at him.

"Who the hell are you?" the man snapped, his face flushed with fear and rage. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Mr. Granger, my name is Kingsley Shacklebolt, I'm an Auror with the Ministry of Magic and I'm here because we detected some rather strong magic occurring at this residence."

"Magic? Are you completely off your nut?"

Kingsley sighed. This was going to be difficult. "I assure you magic is real and I promise I'll explain everything to you as best I can but first can you tell me what's happening? Why are your police here?" Surreptitiously he cast a low powered cheering charm at the three of them, hoping to cut through some of the obvious panic he could feel in the room and quickly get to the heart of the matter.

Dan Granger was not a man that was quick to anger. At a little over six feet tall he was broad shouldered and in excellent shape, a holdover from his time as a younger man in the military and knew that he struck a somewhat intimidating figure. The events of the past several months however had done much to fray his usually calm nerves and left him with a tenuous grip on his temper. "I don't sodding know!" he snapped. "We don't know what's been happening. They're saying we're abusing our daughter but we have never hurt her, we just don't know where they're coming from!"

Kingsley motioned toward the couch behind them. "Please, can we all sit down and discuss this calmly?" he asked. "I'll do my best to help but we need to find out exactly what's been happening."

It took some time, longer than he would have liked, but eventually he got the Granger family to sit and he waved his wand, causing the overturned furniture and broken fixings to quickly right and repair themselves. Another wave and a tea set appeared on the low coffee table in front of them. Emma Granger, as she'd been introduced to him, jumped at first but then peered curiously at the set just as her daughter stared with wide, innocent eyes. Her eyes flicked up toward his and he gave her a small smile and a wink before he tapped the badge pinned to his robes once with his wand and muttered a few words.

"My partner is outside, she'll be in in a moment to take them out and modify their memories once we have the story here. I promise you, I have no ill will toward you or your family and will do my best to answer any questions you may have." He sat in a plush armchair and set about pouring four cups of tea. Once everyone had a cup in hand he leaned back in the chair and blew on the hot liquid for a moment before taking a slow sip.

"You said something about not knowing where something is coming from?" he asked and the Granger parents both nodded. "May I ask what it is that you mean?"

They shared a glance, their daughter sitting almost squashed between them on the sofa but she paid them no mind, instead focusing on stirring the cup of tea in her hand with her spoon.

"The scars," Dan said after several moments of silence.

Kingsley arched an eyebrow. "What scars?"

"Her scars." Dan jerked his head toward his daughter and Kingsley took a closer look at the girl. The hair and eyes, he'd already noted. But aside from their color he finally took note of the intelligence behind them. For a girl of barely five years of age he could tell that she was listening to and absorbing everything that was being said around her. She smiled at him, showing a slight overbite, but there was nothing but genuine joy now in her smile. She was obviously a happy child.

"I have to ask again, what scars, if I may?"

The story poured out of them then. Since the time there daughter had been two years old they would randomly find scars appearing on her body. Sometimes they would see open wounds, but invariably they became scars within minutes. The parents were terrified. They had no idea what was happening to their little girl and this year they had finally attempted to seek help from their family doctor.

"Of course that didn't go well at all," Emma said with a derisive snort. "That's why they showed up at our door tonight, to take her away."

"Why would they take her away?" Kingsley asked, startled. It was obvious to him what was going on and it took him a moment before he raised his free hand, the one not holding his tea cup, and smacked himself in the forehead. "Pardon me, I think I understand. They think you're hurting her?"

They nodded.

"May I see these scars?"

They shared another long look, hesitating for a moment so Kingsley spoke up again. "Please, I believe I might have an idea what is happening and can possibly explain it to you, but I need to see the scars, and I promise you, I do not believe that you are hurting her yourselves. Just looking at her I can tell that she is comfortable around the both of you and if you had been there's no way she wouldn't be afraid of you."

"Show him, Dan," Emma said, her voice a broken whisper. "I don't have the slightest clue what's going on but if he can explain it to us I want to know. I can't stand not knowing what's been going on."

With a bit of coaxing Dan got their daughter to stand and turned her around so her back was facing the robed man in their home and he lifted the back of the light purple pajama top that she was wearing. Kingsley sucked in a breath, letting it hiss past his teeth as a slow anger started to build in his chest. The Grangers flinched as his dark eyes hardened and he quickly schooled his expression, letting none of the anger show.

He muttered a quiet apology for his reaction and set down his cup. Standing, he approached the three of them and dropped to one knee, studying the long scars crisscrossing the child's back. There were dozens of them. Long lines of raised scar tissue that extended up under her shirt and at least one he saw stretched below the waist of her pants toward her right buttock. As he watched the girl flinched and a pained whimper escaped her as a fresh cut opened up across the center of her back.

The wound bled briefly but then sealed up, becoming yet another scar.

"Soul Scars," he whispered.

Dan gathered his daughter up into his arms and pulled her onto his lap where she quickly settled in, looking at the stranger in her home. "What did you say?"

"I recognize this phenomena. They're called Soul Scars, but while I could tell you the definition, I don't think I am expert enough to explain the rest of this. First of all, your daughter is much too young for this to be happening. I can't begin to explain it so, if you'll indulge me a moment, I'm going to make a call and ask someone else to come. In the meantime I'll answer any questions you have regarding magic and the like while we wait?"

They nodded and he stood and placed his wand to the tip of his throat. He muttered a few words then extended his arm and muttered another incantation. A bright flash of silver left the tip of the wand and a shape rocketed across the room and through the wall of their home, leaving it undamaged, so fast they didn't have a chance to identify what the shape had been.

"There," he said and returned to his seat. "Now we wait."

#####

Kingsley answered every question the Grangers had as best he could. Every question except for those pertaining to their daughters scars. After half an hour they had been brought up to speed, though the shock had still done a number on the level headed Granger family.

"So… I'm a witch?"

Kingsley directed his gaze down at the young girl, still cradled in her fathers arms. "Yes, you are, Hermione. Magic is very real, and what you did today, destroying the windows of your house, that was known as accidental magic."

"How did I do that?"

"Well, let me ask you a question. When those police came, and said they were going to take you away from your parents, how did you feel?"

The girl latched tightly onto her fathers shirt, fingers clutching desperately at the fabric. "Scared," she whispered.

Kingsley nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. "I would have been scared too, little one, there's nothing wrong with that. And that's what let you do accidental magic. When you're scared, or angry, when your emotions are high, that's when you do accidental magic like that." He glanced at the broken windows and pulled his wand from his sleeve before he waved it in a sweeping gesture. All of the broken glass on the floor and in the snow outside flew up off the ground, fitting themselves back into the frames and in moments the glass was repaired as if nothing had happened. He turned back and smirked at the wide eyed expressions on all three Grangers faces. "And that," he said, "is controlled magic, using a wand to cast a spell."

"Can I get a wand?"

"Not, just as yet, young lady. You have to be 11 years old before you can get your first wand."

All four individuals present turned to face the new voice that had intruded on their discussion. Standing in the doorway was a man with the longest beard and hair that any of them had ever seen. Shock white and cascading down his chest and back until they could both be tucked into his belt, should he choose to. He was dressed in deep blue robes with gold stars and comets swirling and flitting back and forth across the cloth.

"Mr. And Mrs. Granger, this is Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where your daughter will one day be able to attend, should she wish."

The Grangers greeted him, wondering just what to make of this new character.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, of course," he said as he stepped the rest of the way into the house. With a flick of his wrist he sent the stunned officers outside and the door swung closed with a quiet click. Another wave of his hand and a large comfortable looking armchair in a lurid purple color sprang into existence next to the simple chair Kingsley was occupying. "I do wish the circumstances of our meeting could have been better though."

"Can't say that I disagree with you," Dan said. "So you're the gentleman that Kingsley said could explain things to us?"

"That would be me. I was told my presence would be of help, so here I am. I have many years of experience in some of the most obscure branches of magic, so while I cannot claim to be an expert in everything I do know a considerable amount about a great many things."

He reached into the folds of his robes and withdrew a dark drawstring bag. Opening that, he reached in and pulled out a hard candy which he popped into his mouth, sucking on it with apparent relish.

"Pardon me," he said and held the bag out toward them. "Sherbert lemon?"

Dan, Emma, and Kingsley shook their heads while Hermione sat up and reached for the bag but at a glance from her mother she slouched back and put her hand in her lap.

"So," Dumbledore said after several moments of sucking on his candy. "From the message that Mr. Shacklebolt sent me, there appears to be some trouble with young Miss Granger, here?"

Kingsley quickly relayed the information that he'd so far gathered and had Hermione stand so her father could show the old wizard the scars on her back.

"And one of them appeared as I was sitting here watching," Kingsley finished. "They're Soul Scars, aren't they Professor?"

"Mr. Shacklebolt, I haven't been your professor for more than ten years, please, call me Albus. But you are right, they do appear to be so," he said, "at her age though, I can't even begin to explain how this is possible."

"Would someone please tell us what you're talking about?" Dan snapped, his frayed nerves getting the better of him.

"I do apologize, Mr. Granger," Albus said, "and I beg your forgiveness and indulgence. In our world we see amazing things on a daily basis, so for something to surprise and confound us the way this has is a rarity."

He popped another candy into his mouth and sucked on it idly for a moment as he contemplated how to explain.

"Have you ever heard the phrase, 'soul mates'?" he asked after a lengthy silence.

Dan and Emma shared another look. "Well, of course," she said. "The idea that two people are perfectly suited to each other. That no other person in the world would be better for them to be with."

"Simply, but aptly put. Yes, in the muggle world, soul mates is merely an ideal, but in the Wizarding world they are all too real. Rare, but real." He leaned back in his armchair and steepled his fingers in front of his face as he spoke, blue eyes twinkling merrily at them.

"Soul mates are drawn to each other. Two people born with souls and magic so perfectly matched that if they ever happen across one another in their day to day they will be pulled to each other. They will seek each other out, yearning to be close to one another.

"It is an amazing thing to witness, so I have been told. Though just because two people happen to be soul mates, doesn't mean that they will ever enter into a romantic relationship. More often than not they do, but if they chose not to they would still be the best, most steadfast and loyal of friends for all of their days."

"That's all very interesting, but what does it have to do with these mystery scars?" Dan asked.

"Ah, that is where we get to the crux of the matter," Albus murmured, the twinkle in his eyes dimming somewhat. "When two soul mates come together, and then enter into a romantic relationship, there is the possibility of forming a soul bond. An extremely rare event where the two individuals literally share of their very souls with each other. He would have a piece of her soul and she would carry a piece of his."

"And you're saying that's what happened to Hermione?" The girl in question looked up at her father, noting the stony expression on his face and not really understanding why, but she committed the conversation to memory anyway, sure that it was important, even if she didn't entirely comprehend it yet.

"I am, though I cannot see how it was possible considering how such a bond usually forms."

"And how is that?"

"Through an act of love."

Dumbledore let that hang in the air for a moment before raising a hand to stave off the inevitable explosion. "Yes, in adults that usually manifests itself as an act of physical intimacy not appropriate for young ears," he said with a wink at Hermone who giggled softly and burrowed her way deeper into her fathers arms. "In one as young as your daughter, it would be something much more innocent. A holding of hands, a hug, even a simple kiss on the cheek as long as it was given with the intent of expressing the emotion of love and was accepted for such. Tell me, does your daughter have any very close friends?"

The Grangers shook their heads. "She's not yet in school and there aren't any other children near her age in this neighborhood. Since the scars started showing up about two years ago we've been nervous about the idea of getting her in school because we were concerned that someone would think we were hurting her. Which is basically what happened anyway when we took her to the doctors."

"All the evidence suggests that your daughter has formed a bond with someone, yet we have no indications as to with whom, how, or even when." Dumbledore stroked his beard with one hand, eyes fixed on a point somewhere in the distance as he considered the situation. "With your permission," he said after another lengthy silence, "I would like to cast a spell on your daughter. A simple diagnostic spell that will show us her soul like an aura around her. That will tell us if she is holding a piece of another soul within her."

Dan and Emma quickly agree and within minutes little Hermione found herself standing in an open space in their sitting room, facing the old man with the long beard and hair. She felt he kind of looked like Santa, except his clothes where the wrong color and he was far too skinny.

Dumbledore removed a slender wand from within the folds of his robe and turned to Hermione. "Now, hold still, please, Hermione. I promise this won't hurt at all, it will just allow us to take a look at what's happening with you, okay?"

She nodded, her eyes wide with wonder at the idea of getting to see more magic and he waved the wand around her head, muttering a long incantation under his breath as he did so.

A moment later, she began to glow. A dim, silver light poured from her skin that slowly grew in intensity until she was surrounded by a brilliant nimbus of silver light. She giggled again, waving her arms and watching as the light swirled like a cloud of smoke around her.

"There," Dumbledore muttered and pointed at her. She looked down. While the rest of her body emitted the same soft, silver radiance, a single spot, about the size of her fist, hovering just over her heart pulsed with a steady golden glow. "That spot of gold there belongs to someone else. Do you understand?"

"I think so. You said there's a boy, somewhere, and I have a part of his soul with me?" Hermione said.

"Dumbledore smiled and nodded. "Yes, little one, that is exactly right. And it is a very special thing for you to hold anothers soul within you. Cherish it and care for it as if it were your own, child." A moment later the glow dissipated and she crawled back into her fathers arms, suddenly feeling quite tired.

"Well, that proves that she has created an initial soul bond, somehow."

"Initial bond?" Emma asked, her head spinning with the massive information dump they'd received that night.

"Yes. When two soul mates enter into a romantic relationship and trigger the formation of a soul bond, but before the physical act of love needed to finalize it, we get what we see here. The scars that keep appearing on your daughters body are wounds actually being inflicted on the boy that is connected to her. Any scars he gets, she will acquire and any scars that she collects will appear on his body, just as they have been appearing on hers.

"The scars are the primary way for bond mates to recognize each other. Unless they cast the diagnostic spell that I used at every person they meet, it's the simplest way. Of course, with the bond they share as opposed to simply being soul mates she should be able to feel his presence when they are close enough to each other. Once the bond is finalized, the scars will stop showing up and they will be connected to each other on a much deeper level."

"So, what does all this mean for Hermione?" Dan asked, looking down and the now sleeping girl on his lap. He was beginning to feel more and more overwhelmed as the night wore on and wasn't sure how much more he could take.

"Well, there is good news and bad news. The good news is that, when your daughter eventually meets this boy, she'll know it and she will luckily be spared the usual hardships of young love."

"How so?"

"She will feel herself drawn to him, and he to her. They will be almost compelled to be together and to watch out for each other."

"That sounds as if they're being forced into this." Emma didn't like how this good news was sounding.

"Quite the contrary, Madam, I assure you," Dumbledore said, a gentle smile on his lips. "What the soul mate and soul bond means is that they are uniquely suited for each other. Without the bond and just with the soul mate connection, when and if she happens to meet this boy it is still a very likely possibility that they would eventually come together. The bond simply gives them a nudge in the right direction, making it easier for them to recognize each other all the sooner.

"She will never have to deal with the usual insecurities of young love. She will never trust the wrong man, or give her heart to someone not worthy of her. She will never worry how he feels about her because her bond mate will compliment her, and she him. His strengths will shore up her weaknesses, and her strengths will support him. They will be as close as two people can be, emotionally in tune with each other. Of course, they are still two very different people. They will disagree, and they will, at times I imagine, fight and argue, just as any other couple. But their bond will ensure that they will always know that their mate cares for and loves them and that nothing will be able to come between them. He will be incapable of treating her poorly or intentionally hurting her and she would feel the same for him."

Dan and Emma took a moment to absorb that information. As parents, it was a comfort to know that their daughter was sure to find a man that would treat her right and cherish her as they knew she deserved to be.

Something Dumbledore had said worried Dan, though.

"You said there was bad news?" he asked.

"Ah, yes. That, I am afraid does concern me." Dumbledores voice had turned grave and somber. "Those scars. Those marks are the signs of abuse. Belt lashes, unless I miss my guess. So, while your daughter has someone out there that is, for all intents and purposes, perfect for her, it seems fairly obvious that he will have some challenges of his own to overcome that may make things difficult for them both.

"His living situation is obviously not a good one. His mental and physical state by the time they meet is anyones guess. At best, he will likely have a long road to recover from the obvious physical and emotional abuse that he is suffering. Young Hermione should be able to help him, though. Their bond will allow her to reach him where he might close himself off from others. She will simply need to be gentle and patient with him."

#####

Hermione Granger pushed her trolley with her school trunk ahead of her as she walked through the busy station, her eyes fixed on her goal with a dogged determination. Her soul mate was waiting for her.

Over the years since wizards had first visited her home she had spent countless hours considering her situation. She had a soul mate! More than that, there was a boy out there guaranteed to be her friend.

As the years had passed her by, and the number of scars grew, the ache in her heart had grown alongside them. Her soul mate was suffering. She knew it. Could feel it in her bones. She didn't feel all the pain from the scars herself. They formed and healed too quickly. But she knew that he felt it. Knew that he was suffering. She could feel his fear, pain, sorrow, and the aching hunger that gnawed at his belly.

The year previously, just before receiving her letter to Hogwarts (Delivered by an owl of all things), she had gone to her mother and, with tears in her eyes, told Emma Granger that 'he' was hungry. At first, her mum had given her a confused look, before realization struck and she folded her daughter into her arms as the girl broke down into sobs against her.

"They're starving him, mum!" she had cried. "He's so hungry, I can feel it."

Hermione Granger had always been an avid reader, and when she realized the trauma her soul mate was suffering she did the only thing she could, since she couldn't save him from it yet. She had hit the books. Her bookshelf at home was filled with books on psychology, PTSD, and medical texts regarding treatment, both physical and mental, for long time sufferers of abuse. Added to those books were books on nutrition and anything she could find to help craft a diet for someone suffering from long term malnourishment.

Armed with all the knowledge she could find, she strode purposefully toward the barrier leading to platform 9 3/4, determined to find him and save him, whoever he was.


	2. The Express

**Authors Note: Well I'll be. I've gotta say I'm somewhat overwhelmed by the response the first chapter got. In less than four days 100 follows and almost 50 favorites. I'm glad you guys like the story so far and hope to continue the trend. So here's chapter two, a few days early cause I'm just so excited. This one's a bit longer and starts setting up a few tiny things.**

 **And because I realized I forgot it last chapter, the obligatory disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to it. I'm just joining the sandbox and having some fun.**

 **I've got plans for this story and I'm very much looking forward to seeing how it all comes together. If you like it, please review. If you hate it, please review. I'm always open to discussion that doesn't spoil the story and constructive criticism is appreciated.**

 **Without further ado, chapter two of Soul Scars**

Soul Scars

By,

Rtnwriter

Eleven-year-old Harry Potter was not an ordinary boy. In fact, he was about as far from ordinary as it was possible to get, according to his Aunt and Uncle, who hated all things 'strange' or 'freakish' with a passion, including him. He figured they were experts on the matter. Harry, was a wizard, something he had barely learned himself just a month previously on a wind swept rock in the middle of a storm ravaged sea.

And they had known. His family had known all along that he was a Wizard and had done their absolute best to beat it out of him all his life. He shoved aside the anger at how his so called family had treated him and focused on his goal. It was the day he was supposed to leave for school and Uncle Vernon had gleefully dropped him off at Kings Cross pointing out that there _was_ no platform 9 3/4 even though that was specifically what was written on his ticket.

So where the _hell_ was it?

He resisted the urge to curse under his breath and rubbed at his chest, just over his heart. There it was again. A tugging sensation in his chest like something deep within him was trying to get his attention but over the years, whenever he'd felt it he'd never figured out what it meant and it always faded away after a time.

He slowed as he walked, pushing his trolley in front of him as he noticed the strange difference in the tugging sensation. Always before it'd happened randomly and it always seemed to be tugging him in one direction or another. Now he could distinctly feel it in two different directions at once. _That_ was new.

He stopped his trolley in front of the barrier between platforms 9 and 10 and looked back and forth between the two, a look of confusion etched on his face. As he considered his situation he laid his left arm on the handle of the trolley and rested his right elbow on the back of his hand before dropping his chin into his upraised right hand. Idly, he fingered the scar that rested just behind the hinge of his jaw.

It was something he'd found himself doing when he was thinking. Harry Potter knew scars. He had a lot of them. But that one, the one alongside his jaw, he had no idea where that one had come from. He'd felt a twinge of pain one morning while he was brushing his teeth and saw the wound appear in the mirror and within moments it had sealed over into a pale scar on his skin.

He gave himself a mental shake, drawing his thoughts away from the mystery scar and back to the problem at hand, attempting to look at it as logically as possible. He had a ticket in hand that said his train was leaving from platform 9 3/4 and he had forty-five minutes until the train was supposed to leave, according to his watch. He looked to his left at the sign for platform 9 then to his right at the sign for platform 10.

No 9 3/4.

So how the hell was he supposed to get on the train?

"Trying to get on the train?"

#####

The boy flinched and turned sharply at the sound of her voice behind him. He didn't seem to like people behind him. When his eyes landed on hers, though, the frightened look on his face eased out into something calmer and Hermione barely held back a gasp as the tugging sensation she'd always felt in her chest gave a heavy thud, as if her heart had suddenly beat against her rib cage. A feeling of warmth spread through her body as brilliant green eyes locked onto hers and she lost herself in them.

Neither she or the boy in front of her noticed the gentle wisps of gold and silver energy that surrounded them for the briefest of moments, but her parents, standing behind her definitely did.

Dan and Emma Granger shared a look between themselves and Emma grasped his hand tightly, fighting back a sob as they finally laid eyes on the boy they were sure their daughter had spent years wondering about and worrying for.

He was small, incredibly so for an eleven year old and rather scrawny. A tousled mop of black hair crowned his head and his eyes practically glowed behind a pair of taped together spectacles. His clothes were old and worn and obviously several sizes too large for him. Dan clenched his free hand into a fist, fighting the urge to start cursing, loudly. It wouldn't do to scare the kid.

After the silence between the children stretched into it's fifth minute he gently cleared his throat to get their attention.

Hermione blinked and a slow flush crept into her cheeks, but her reaction was nothing compared to the child in front of her. He flinched, badly, taking a half a step back and his hands came up to cover his head for a second before he forced them back down at his side.

"Whoa, son," Dan said letting go of Emma's hand and holding both hands out in front of him in a calming gesture. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

The kid shuffled his feet and seemed to shrink in on himself before he finally spoke.

"That's okay," he said in such a quiet tone that they almost missed it.

Dan eyed the trunk on his trolley and the cage with the absolutely gorgeous snowy white owl in it. "Are you heading to Hogwarts too?" he asked and the kid nodded once, slowly. Dan smiled as comfortingly as he could, hoping that he was projecting a calm enough image. "Having trouble finding the platform?"

The boy nodded again.

"Well, we can help with that. We managed to get someone to tell us where it is but we were hoping to confirm it with someone else before giving it a try." He reached forward and nudged Hermione slightly, getting her started moving forward and Dan took a look around them, hoping to spot someone else that might seem out of place.

His eyes landed on a pair standing near the barrier that separated platforms 9 and 10. The younger of the two ladies, a cute looking redhead had a trolley with a trunk on it, just like the ones her daughter and the boy had with a cage sitting on top, a tawny owl inside with its head tucked under one wing. _Lot of owls,_ he thought. _At least that's an obvious giveaway._

"Why don't we verify things with them?" he asked and the four started to walk toward the barrier. Dan noted absently that the kid kept his distance from them, walking apart and all the while keeping a wary eye on them, or him in particular.

#####

"Are you sure, Auntie?" Susan Bones asked. She tugged at the cuffs of her long sleeved blouse, making sure they reached all the way to her wrists.

"As sure as I can be," her Aunt replied. Amelia Bones was a handsome enough woman, but her constant stern expression tended to put possible suitors off, not that she minded. She was focused on her niece and her career as an Auror and had just recently risen to the post of Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, a position rarely held by someone as young as she, much less a woman. "You've met the vast majority of pureblood wizards your age through the balls and events we've been to over the years. Our next best bet would be to look for muggle-born, and muggle-raised students." She looked down at her niece, the last living member of her family after the death of her brother and sister-in-law, and her stern countenance broke into a gentle smile.

"I'm sorry, Susan," she said as the young witch continued to fidget with her sleeves. "I wish I could change things, somehow. We just haven't had any way to find him or get him away from whoever is doing this to him. You'll be in a position to try and help some at school. To try and support him. Whoever he is. And once we know that, I'll be able to start looking into how I can help as well."

Susan nodded, her eyes scanning the crowd. Muggles crossed to and fro through the busy station, a constant rushing press of bodies that never ceased to amaze her. There were just so _many_ of them. So many people rushing about each to their own destinations. Each so focused on their own path that many barely stopped to look at the world around them.

"Excuse me, that's a lovely owl," a new voice said, intruding on her silent observation of the crowd.

Susan turned. Without her noticing a family had approached, two parents with a son and daughter in tow. The kids, looked to be her age though the boy stood apart from them and seemed far more shabbily dressed than the other three. Ever the empathetic person she was, she immediately felt her heart go out to the young man, feeling something was terribly amiss.

She turned her attention to the man that had spoken as her Aunt also took in the scene, her sharp eyes missing nothing. He was tall and well built, dressed casually with a blazer thrown over his t-shirt and slacks and simple black trainers on his feet.

"Oh," she said when her Aunt suddenly prodded her shoulder. "Thank you, Archimedes was a gift from my Aunt when I got my letter. She wanted to make sure I could write to her while I was at school."

The man smiled and held his hand out to her Aunt. "Dan Granger," he said, nodding as Amelia accepted his hand and introduced herself. "Pleasure to meet you. This is my wife, Emma, and our daughter, Hermione. She's a first year too, like you, I suspect?" he added the last toward Susan who nodded and held out her hand.

"My name is Susan," she said and he smiled and took her hand in his much larger one, shaking it firmly but with care that he didn't crush her hand in his.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Susan. Oh, this here is…" Dan trailed off having turned to indicate the boy standing off to the side, his green eyes darting back and forth. "Umm… I'm terribly sorry, young man," he said, suddenly feeling a bit sheepish. "We completely forgot to ask your name."

Susan blinked, realizing he probably wasn't their son, which made him only more curious to her. Who was he?

The kid cringed again, a tremor running through his tiny frame for the blink of an eye before he shoved it aside and replaced his indifferent mask, the only defense he had against those that would hurt him. He'd found that if he didn't react, his _family_ didn't tend to bother him quite as much. He raised his head, meeting Susan's eyes for the first time and, just as Hermione had felt, there was a thud in her chest. She couldn't hold in the gasp that escaped her though, as when he'd lifted his head, the fringe of his hair parted and the scar above his right eye became visible.

"Umm… I'm Harry," he said, his voice seeming to roll over her like a wave. "Harry Potter."

Susan couldn't say later what happened over the next few minutes. The Grangers continued to talk with her Aunt for a few moments and eventually they all moved onto the platform. Harry thanked them, politely, before he turned and pushed his trolley toward the train, almost looking like he was in a rush to get away from them and a minute later the girl, Hermione, had followed her parents toward the scarlet painted Hogwarts Express.

"Susan?" her Aunt asked, finally getting her attention and she blinked, shaking herself back to reality.

"Auntie, that was him," she hissed, discretely jabbing a finger in the direction of the retreating black haired boy.

"Yes, Susan, I am well aware that was Mister Potter, and I must say I am somewhat disappointed in you that you stared at him so. He's not some exotic animal in a zoo, here for your entertainment. Did you even look for your bond mate, or were you too distracted?"

"No!" Susan said shaking her head sharply. "I mean that was him. That was _him."_ She lifted her left arm and yanked back her sleeve, showing the ugly scar that ran up her forearm from her wrist to the crook of her elbow. Tears stung at her eyes and she threw her arms around her startled Aunts waist, burying her face in the older womans dress.

"It was him," she muttered, brokenly, her voice muffled against her Aunt. "It was him, it was him, it was him."

Amelia Bones' mouth dropped open and her eyes grew wide as the implications struck home. "Merlins beard," she breathed. Her niece was bonded to Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived, based on the scars that covered Susan's body, had spent the last ten years suffering who truly knew what kind of abuse. How had no one known or put a stop to it? Where had he even been for the last decade? When news of how he had been treated got out, and it was bound to do so eventually, the Wizarding public was going to have a collective fit.

The entire situation had just become more complicated than she'd ever thought. They'd been trying to find her nieces bonded for years. More than anything, Amelia couldn't stand the thought of a child being abused the way she knew he had to be but for that child to be Harry Potter? The political fall out was impossible to predict here.

She needed more information.

A lot more.

"Susan," she said firmly, placing her hands on her nieces shoulders and pushing her back so she could look her in the eyes. "You need to get on the train, you're cutting it close as it is so just get on the train. Try to sit with him if you can but don't mention bonds or the scars. We don't know what he knows or what he's been told and you don't want to scare him, okay?" Susan nodded and swiped at her tear stained cheeks. "Just sit with him, try to be friends with him. I think more than anything else, that poor child could use a friend."

"Yes, Auntie."

"Good girl." Amelia smiled at her niece and leaned down to give her a brief hug. "And make sure you write to me, understood? I want to know everything, and I'll start looking into ways to possibly get him out of wherever he's been living. Now that I know who your bond mate is, we might be able to get something done but it's just become way more difficult. I'll have to make extremely quiet inquiries to avoid kicking off a complete media circus."

"I understand. Goodbye, Auntie. I love you."

Susan spun and pushed her trolley toward the train without even a backward glance.

#####

Ice blue eyes stared with a frightening intensity at the shabbily dressed boy, taking in every motion, every movement as if committing every aspect of his physical appearance to memory.

He pushed his trolley across the platform, expertly dodging the shifting mass of parents and students. But he wasn't just dodging. To her discerning eye she could see another broken soul, used to making sure they were noticed as little as possible. She saw how he always kept out of sight of the greatest possible number of people. If she'd had to guess, less than half the people that he passed had even known he was there as he ghosted through, doing his very best to draw as little attention to himself as he could.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" she whispered, ignoring her best friend beside her as she kept her eyes on the bedraggled figure until he climbed onto the train somewhere further down the length of the platform, and was thus lost to her sight.

"Did you see him? Is he cute?"

"Tracey," she said with a long suffering sigh. "He's been savagely beaten and tortured for the last decade, at least. How cute do you think he'll be right at the moment?"

Her friend frowned, playing with a curl of light brown hair as she twisted it around one finger and unwound it again over and over. It was a nervous tic that Tracey had always had and for some reason always drove Daphne crazy. She reached out and placed her hand on her friends, stopping her fingers nervous actions and Tracey gave her a weak grin.

"So, you didn't see him then?"

"No," Daphne disagreed and shook her head. "I saw him." She leaned back in her seat, staring out the window at the platform but Tracey could tell that her blond friend wasn't actually seeing anything in front of her by the far away look in her eyes.

"And?"

"Yes, he was unbearably cute, in a kicked puppy kind of way." Daphne refused to say anything more, focusing instead on the memory of his eyes. Even at the distance he'd been when she saw him, there had been no mistaking the brilliant green of his eyes and she was positive that it had just become her new favorite color.

#####

 _Where'd he go?_ she thought, panic starting to grip her as she made her way down the length of the train, peering into compartment after compartment as she went. Just as she was beginning to think he'd somehow vanished into thin air she spotted him. In the last compartment on the last car, he sat with his trunk in the overhead and his owls cage on the floor by his feet. He was pressed as far into the corner as he could get with his legs drawn up onto the seat and a well thumbed book open on his knees.

Hermione smiled as she pulled open the door. _He's a reader, that's good, it'll give us some common ground, hopefully._

He sat up sharply when the door slid open with a loud rattle and she paused, one hand on the door and the other still gripping the handle to her trunk, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. _God, how does one even look non-threatening?_ she wondered.

"Sorry," she whispered after a moment when he just stared at her with those entrancing green eyes. "I didn't mean to startle you."

He shrugged with one shoulder, relaxing slightly but she could still see a visible tension in his body, like a coiled spring waiting for release. He didn't say anything, though.

"Umm… do you… do you mind if I sit with you?" she ask, hesitantly. "It's just… you kind of seemed as lost as I was and… well I figured since we're both new we could be a bit lost together?" She smiled then, keeping her lips close together and after a moment she saw the first signs of life.

It started with his eyes. Such a brilliant green, but deadened somewhat, like there was no joy in them. They started to glimmer just slightly. She might have imagined it, but she swore she could see just a bit of humor in his eyes and one corner of his thin lips quirked up into the tiniest of smiles.

"I… I'd like that," he said and stood as she pulled her trunk into the compartment to help her load it into the overhead compartment. Together, they managed to wrestle the heavy trunk into place and when they sat down, Harry back in his corner and her on the bench across from him, he was still eyeing the trunk in the rack above them.

"Heavy," he muttered, turning his gaze back to her and she flushed slightly, playing with a few strands of her hair with one hand.

"Yeah, I uh… I like to read, I think I might have brought a few more books than is strictly necessary."

Without a word he held up the book he had been reading so she could see the title.

"Oh!" she said. "The Magicians Nephew! That's my favorite book in the Narnia series."

He smiled again and conversation started to flow. Haltingly at first and with Hermione carrying the lions share of it, but it was a start, she felt. She kept her hands firmly placed on her denim clad thighs or otherwise at her side since she felt as if her fingers wanted to twitch constantly.

Knowing what she knew… it was all she could do to sit and calmly talk to him instead of throwing herself into his arms and letting the tears flow. Her mother had warned her though. She couldn't just blurt out that she knew about the abuse. She couldn't confront him with the same charge ahead manner as she usually faced things. It would more than likely send him packing far away from her so she needed to approach him carefully.

" _Get to be his friend first, Hermione," her mother had said. "Get to know him, let him get to know you before you try to breach those harder topics. It's going to take time and you'll need to be very patient."_

 _She'd nodded, standing in the entryway to their home in Crawley just before they'd gotten in the car to come to the station. "I know, mum. I wish I could just make everything okay, but I understand."_

She kept that conversation firmly in mind as the train whistle blew and Harry suddenly sat forward, staring out the window as the scenery outside began to slowly slide by them.

They both jumped a moment later when the compartment door slid open again and they turned to the new intruder in the doorway.

"Hi," she said, deep blue eyes flashing along with her bright smile. "Mind if I join you guys?"

#####

Harrry stared.

Hermione stared.

The girl, Susan, he remembered, started to fidget under their scrutiny.

"Umm…" she hummed, nervously. "Is that… is that not okay?"

Hermione suddenly shook herself and lept to her feet. "Oh!" she cried. "Sorry, no, that's fine with me. Harry?" she asked, turning to the boy in his corner. "Do you mind? Might be nice to meet some other people, right?"

He didn't say anything but he stood and walked toward Susan, stopping when he was a few feet away as if he was waiting for something.

They stared at each other for a minute until Harry raised one armed and gestured for her to come into the compartment. She did so, silently, and without a word spoken he took one end of her trunk and they lifted it up into the overhead before she picked up her owls cage from where she'd left it sitting in the hall and brought it in, closing the door behind her.

By the time she'd turned around he was back in his corner, pressing himself against it as if trying to keep as far away from the two girls as he could get. Part of her wanted to immediately go and sit beside him but she carefully set Archimedes cage on the bench seat across from him and sat beside Hermione instead, about a foot of space between them.

The easy conversation that had flowed between Harry and Hermione seemed to stall as no one knew quite what to say.

"You're Granger, right?' Susan asked after a few minutes of awkward silence.

"Yes. Hermione Granger, please, call me Hermione. Susan… Bones?"

Susan nodded and reached out to shake the other girls hand. Neither of them noticed the lesser thud in their chests at the contact and the moment was missed.

"Susan, is fine. I'm not familiar with the Granger family. Muggle-born?" she asked.

Hermione nodded, slowly. They'd seen some of the reactions they got when her parents had taken her to Diagon Alley to pick up her school things and Susan seemed nice so far. She really hoped she wasn't like those other people.

Susan noticed the reticence in Hermione's posture and hastened to reassure her. "Oh don't worry. My family isn't like those idiots that think less of muggle-born witches and wizards. I was just curious. Trying to break the ice, ya know?" She shrugged. "My family has been pureblood for generations, so I find it nice to talk to people raised in the muggle world. It's good to get other views on things, don't you think?"

At that, Hermione smiled, thinking she could really learn to like this girl. "Oh absolutely," she gushed. "It's always better to learn new things than just stick with the same old tried and true all the time, I've always felt."

Harry read his book, listening with one ear as he turned the well worn pages while the two girls chatted. He didn't really have anything to contribute to the conversation and winced slightly as he thought that his lack of experience would just be another reason that he would stand out. He'd spent so long trying to fade into the background that when Hagrid had taken him to get his school things he had been very nearly overwhelmed by the sudden attention heaped upon him by every person they came across. Absently, his right hand came up and brushed down the fringe of his hair, making sure to keep his scar covered.

He was two chapters further along in his book before the half listened to conversation suddenly changed.

"I'm sorry."

Harry didn't react at first, eyes still tracing along the pages of his book. He barely had to actually read it any more to enjoy the story, he'd read it so many times he practically had it committed to memory. When the accompanying silence stretched, though, he looked up, finding himself pinned to his seat by a pair of deep blue eyes filled with an emotion he knew all too well but he wasn't sure he'd ever seen in someone else's gaze. The only time he saw it was when he looked in the mirror.

"Umm.. I'm sorry, what?" he asked, confused by Susans intense gaze.

"I'm sorry, Mister Potter," she repeated.

He blinked and a small frown furrowed his brow. Nervously he reached up and ran a finger across the scar behind his jaw. "It's Harry. Um… that's okay?" he said, his confusion readily apparent. "I mean… I don't know why you're apologizing, y-you… haven't actually done anything to apologize for…"

His voice trailed off as she leaned forward and put one hand on his knee. He stilled completely, eyes wide in something resembling terror. Both girls hearts reached out for him and they stomped down on the initial desire to sit beside him as Susan took her hand back. She swallowed hard past the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. He'd looked like a statue. The second she touched him he had become so still she hadn't even been able to tell if he was still breathing.

"You're Harry Potter," Susan said quietly, her voice thick with some emotion he couldn't quite identify. "Famous and celebrated all over the Wizarding world for defeating You-Know-Who ten years ago," He winced, but nodded. "It's always bothered me," she said, "how people celebrate you. The Boy-Who-Lived. People talk about how you defeated You-Know-Who and saved our world. But I don't think I've ever once heard someone talk…" she trailed off uncertainly for a moment before squaring her shoulders and soldiering on. "They never talk about your parents. To the rest of the world that was a day to celebrate, but for you, that's just the day your world was destroyed," she said. "So… from me, I'm sorry for your loss, late though it may be. I… I lost my parents too, when I was really little, so I kind of understand, I think."

His mouth worked up and down several times, looking completely gobsmacked, but not a word came out and after a moment his jaw snapped shut with an audible click that had Hermione wincing. Finally he simply smiled, that same tiny quirking of one corner of his mouth and nodded to her.

The smile she gave him could have been measured in megawatts and she leaned back in her seat as Hermione jumped in, asking what house they thought they might be in to help ease the tension she felt in their compartment.

After that the conversation flowed easier than ever and Harry found himself contributing to the discussion more and more. By the time the snack lady came by with her cart half way through their trip to school Harry's book was sitting on the seat beside him and the compartment was filled with gentle laughter.

Harry bought a little bit of everything, pulling several gold coins from the pocket of his too large jeans and Susan quirked an eyebrow at his back. He'd pulled out a _lot_ of gold, and seemed not to know what it was worth as the snack lady gently explained how much his purchases would cost, and yet he wore those ratty clothes when he obviously could afford new clothes that fit him. She couldn't wrap her brain around the contradictions the boy was giving off.

When he turned, his arms laden down with packages of snacks and sweets, she quickly wiped the look from her face. She considered the coins she had in her pocket. Her Aunt had sent her with a bit of change but she wasn't sure if she wanted to spend it all on snacks on the train or wait to see if an older student could pick her up something from Honeydukes during a Hogsmead weekend later in the school year.

While she was thinking, she suddenly noticed a hand in front of her face and blinked, looking up the length of the arm attached to it to find brilliant green eyes locked on her again. She dropped her eyes again, feeling overwhelmed by the emotions rushing through her at the look in his expressive eyes, to see that he was holding out a pumpkin pasty.

"Umm… I wasn't sure if you had any change or if you might be hungry," he said, almost apologetically. "And, well, I kind of bought way too much for just me so…" he trailed off, looking uncertain and started to pull his hand back but before he could she smiled and reached out to take the pasty. Their fingers brushed together and both of them felt that thud in their chests, stronger than before, as a slow flush built in their cheeks.

"Thank you, Harry," she said. "That was very thoughtful of you."

He shifted his feet and nodded before turning to Hermione. "Would you like something?" he asked. "Seriously, there's plenty here."

"Thank you," she said. "I would like that, but what are my choices? We don't actually do a whole lot of sweets around my house. My parents are both dentists so sugar is kind of outlawed around home."

"Let's see, I've got a few more pumpkin pasties, uh… licorice wands, chocolate frogs, something called every flavor beans?" He looked up at Susan who made a face, her mouth filled with pumpkin.

She chewed quickly and swallowed before speaking. "Yeah, when they say every flavor they really do mean _every_ flavor. Even flavors that aren't food related."

"Really?" Harry picked up the box and started reading the back. "Chocolate, popcorn, waffles, sausage, grass, dirt, black pepper, earwax, toffee… Are they serious? Dirt?"

Susan laughed at the looks on her new friends faces. Harry's was dumfounded while Hermione's was screwed up in distaste at the very idea. "Oh yeah, they're serious. My best friend, Hannah, swears she got a vomit flavored one once."

Harry and Hermione both made disgusted faces at the very idea and Susan laughed again.

"Umm… I think I'll just take a pumpkin pasty, Harry, if you don't mind," Hermione said. "I'd rather not take a chance on those things." He nodded rapidly in complete agreement and handed it over. When their fingers touched there came again the, now familiar, thud in their chests and Harry absently rubbed a hand over his heart as he thought about the strange sensation.

Susan was absorbed by her treat but Hermione noticed the furtive gesture and briefly one hand came to her own chest. _Did he feel it too?_ She thought, but before she could think any further on the subject the door slid open again and another voice intruded on them.

"Excuse me, has anyone seen a toad?"

#####

" _Keep an eye out for him, Neville."_

" _Yes, Gran. I promise."_

" _House Longbottom has a long tradition with House Potter. If you get the opportunity, try to be his friend. Harry Potter should be in your year so this would be the perfect time to try and mend some old bridges."_

" _Yes, Gran."_

 _Augusta Longbottom looked down with some fondness at her grandson, Hogwarts trunk beside him and his toad, Trevor, clutched firmly in one hand._

" _I'm sure you'll make me and your parents proud Neville," she said. "Now go on, and have a good year, okay?"_

" _I will, Gran. I'll write to you soon."_

The conversation with his grandmother fresh in his mind Neville had found himself a compartment and gave it a bit of time before heading off in search of his families ally. Harry Potter hadn't been seen since the day he defeated the Dark Lord and ended the war. No one knew where he'd grown up or who he'd grown up with. Neville just hoped that he was nice and that, maybe, they could be friends.

He made his excuses to the youngest Weasley and a few other people in the compartment with him after letting Trevor get away. The toad had a tendency to escape anyway, but luckily always found his way back to Neville, so it was as good an excuse as any to make his escape, and started making his way down the train asking at every car if anyone had seen a toad.

Three cars before the end of the train a pretty blond girl offered to help look and without any good reason to turn her down he accepted her offer and the two of them continued their way through the train.

It was at the last car that he finally struck gold, so to speak. Hannah pulled open the door and poked her head in.

"Excuse me, has anyone seen a toad?"

"Hannah?"

"Susan?"

"Hey, come on in," Susan said, beaming at her friend and the slightly pudgy boy behind her. "Sorry, I didn't come find you earlier but you're here now. Who's this?"

Hannah stepped into the car and plopped herself down on the bench across from her friend. Neville noted idly that the black haired boy that had been standing in the center between the seats moved quickly over to the bench seat and shoved himself into the corner, a large pile of snacks on the seat between him and Hannah.

"This is Neville Longbottom. He appears to have misplaced his toad so when he came asking I figured I could help him look for it and you at the same time." Hannah smiled at her friend but Neville noticed that her eyes kept flicking toward the boy in the corner even if she didn't turn her head to looking his direction. Susan shook her head the tiniest amount, trying to silently let her best friend know that they would talk later.

"Hi," Neville said, somewhat nervously with a glance at the bushy haired girl and the boy occupying the compartment with them.

"Oh, I'm sorry, manners fly right out the window as soon as we get away from the grownups, eh?" Susan said. "This is Hermione Granger. Hermione that's my very best friend Hannah Abbot and this is Neville. We've met a time or two haven't we Mister Longbottom?"

"It's just Neville and… umm… yes, I think… at a ministry function last summer."

"Oh, that's right, your Grandmother is Augusta Longbottom."

He nodded and turned to look at the boy in the corner.

"Oh, Neville, Hannah, I'd like you to meet Harry Potter."

Harry sat up a bit straighter in his corner and Neville forced himself not to glance up for the scar that he'd heard so much about over the years. He simply stepped forward and held out his hand.

"Mister Potter, it's an honor to meet you, please call me Neville," he said, his tone suddenly sounding far more stiff and formal. "I'm not sure if you're aware but our families have been allies for a very long time. House Longbottom and House Potter have always stood together and, well, I'd like it if we could be friends."

Harry looked briefly at his hand as if it were a snake ready to bite him but eventually he stood and reached for Nevilles hand. They shook and Susan and Hermione smiled as Harry seemed to be have calmed from the momentary fright that had sent him back to his corner when Hannah had burst in.

"Just Harry, is fine. I'm sorry," Harry added after letting go of Nevilles hand. "House Potter?"

Neville, Susan, and Hannah all gaped at him for a moment before Susan suddenly smacked herself in the forehead and suddenly all eyes were on her.

She flushed at the attention and stammered for a moment. "Sorry, we were all surprised but I just realized. Harry, were you raised in the muggle world?"

Harry flinched, so slightly that only Susan noticed. By the time the rest had turned their attention to him he had already schooled his expression into something calm and collected.

"Uh… yeah. I grew up with my Aunt and Uncle and my cousin. My mum's sister and her family are all muggles."

"So you've never heard of the noble houses or any of that I imagine?"

Harry and Hermione both shook their heads at that.

What came next was a brief crash course in Wizarding politics that had Hermione's blood at a low simmer.

"So," she said looking to Neville, Hannah, and Susan who were all sitting on her original bench as she had moved over to sit beside Harry, keeping his pile of snacks between them. "There is a hierarchy of pure blood houses that hold seats on the Wizengemont, the Wizard parliament, or closest equivalent. The more generations back one has wizards in their family, the better. And the oldest families hold the most wealth political power? That is so unfair!"

"That's about it," Neville said with a nod. "I've been getting lessons in all this since I was little since I'm the presumptive Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom. When I'm of age I'll take over as Lord Longbottom and I can take my seat. Harry, as the last member of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter you'll be able to do the same."

Harry was frowning as he considered the entire situation. As if being the bloody Boy-Who-Lived wasn't enough, there seemed to be even more about his family that he was famous for and none of it because of anything that he had personally done.

"So… when you said that our families were Allies, you really meant…"

Neville nodded. "I meant what I said. Our families have always stood together. Wherever a Potter goes, a Longbottom stands beside him and vice versa. I'm not saying that we need to swear any formal pacts or alliances between our Houses or anything. But our families have that history going back centuries, and I'd really like it if we could be friends. It'd be nice to hold up tradition but, that aside, who can ever have enough friends, eh?" he added with a shrug and a cheerful grin.

Harry considered the nervous looking young man in front of him, his gaze as intense as it had ever been. After a few moments, he smiled again. A real, honest smile that split his lips and showed a brief glimmer of teeth. "Neville," he said. "I think I'd like that. I've never had very many friends, so yeah, it'd be nice to count you as one of them."

The compartment door slid open yet again and Harry sighed, starting to feel like he was getting dizzy with all the times the door had opened and closed since he got on the train.

Standing in the doorway was the boy he'd met in Diagon Alley when he was getting fitted for his robes. He hadn't caught his name, but he hadn't much cared for his attitude so, at the time, Harry hadn't given a damn to try to learn his name.

"Is it true?" he asked in a haughty tone of voice. Behind him stood two much larger boys, bracketing him like a set of book ends. They didn't appear to be overly intelligent and looked more like hired muscle than anything. "They're saying up and down the train that Harry Potter is in this compartment."

His eyes landed on Harry and narrowed into slits. "So it's you, is it?" he said.

It was then that they saw a different facet of Harry Potter. Up to that point he had seemed timid, shy, if quickly warming up to them. But if there was one thing Harry's life had taught him, it was that he absolutely hated bullies of any kind, and that hatred tended to make him act a bit more recklessly than he would otherwise behave.

"I'm Harry Potter," he said in the loudest tone any of them had heard him use as he rose to his feet and took a few steps toward the platinum blond. "Who's asking?" His right hand hovered near the pocket of his jeans.

The blond ponce smirked, his haughty demeanor getting even worse, if that was possible. "The names Malfoy," he said. "Draco Malfoy." He looked around the compartment at Hannah, Susan, and Neville, a sneer on his face that only got worse when his eyes landed on Hermione.

"Bones, Abott, and Longbottom," he said. "Old families, but blood traitors, all of them." Neville surged to his feet but sank back when Hannah grabbed his wrist and yanked him down as Malfoy turned his eyes onto Hermione. "And a Mudblood-"

"Shut it, Malfoy," Susan snapped. "I've heard all about your family from my Aunt. Dear old Daddy avoided prison by pretending he was under imperious during the war but everyone knows he's just a filthy murderer."

"You watch your mouth!" Malfoy snarled. "My father is a great man. The Malfoy name is honored in the highest reaches of our society and you should treat your betters with the proper respect."

"When I see someone better, I do treat them with respect," Harry hissed, vibrant green eyes boring into Malfoy's. "Usually though, those people command respect through their actions and their behavior. Not through posturing and demanding. If you have to demand respect, then you obviously aren't worthy of it."

"Why you-" Malfoys hand reached into his pocket and came up with a wand but Harry moved before anyone else could react. His left hand came up and slapped the other boys wrist, sending his wand flying from his hand before Harry reached forward and grabbed a fistful of the black robes he was wearing and yanked him closer until the two boys were practically nose to nose. His right hand snatched at his pocket and Hermione let out a short scream as he pulled his wand and pressed the tip of it against Malfoys throat.

"Don't move!" Malfoy shrieked to the muscle bound idiots behind him, his eyes wide in terror.

"Listen to me very closely you blond little piece of shite," Harry hissed. "I've never had many friends. I consider the people here my friends and I've known far too many people like you over the years to put up with any of your crap. I won't tolerate you treating my friends like that. You think you're the baddest fucker here because your daddy is some rich ponce, like you. Trust me, you're not the baddest. I've dealt with people that would chew you up and spit you out just for looking at them sideways and I'm still here. I'm still alive, despite their best efforts. Unless you want to show us what that pure blood of yours looks like I suggest you take your boyfriends and you go and stay the fuck away from me and _my_ friends!"

By the time he'd finished his tirade he was practically screaming in the terrified boys face. With one quick shove he sent Malfoy stumbling back into his friends and held his left hand out toward Neville without even thinking. A second later he felt the smooth wood of a wand placed in his hand and with a negligent toss, threw the wand out into the hall. He reached out, grabbed the door, slammed it closed and locked it before turning around and pressing his upper back against the glass.

The compartment was completely silent.

Harry couldn't see them though as his eyes were closed. He carefully slid his wand back into his pocket and took a long, slow breath.

When he finally opened his eyes he almost cringed at the four gobsmacked expressions on the faces of Neville and the girls and grimaced.

"I… I'm sorry about that," he muttered dejectedly. "I really, _really_ , don't like bullies. I'll understand if you want to leave."

"Leave?" Neville blurted out before a wide grin split his face. "Are you kidding me? That was bloody brilliant, mate. I've been wanting to see someone put that poncey git in his place for years. Every time I get dragged to some boring social function with my Gran he's always there, strutting around like he owns the damn place."

That made Harry feel a bit better. It wasn't like he was some angry psycho or something. His anger didn't often get the better of him like that but for some reason Malfoy had really rubbed him the wrong way. Hannah and Susan wore similar happy grins. Only Hermione looked worried, fidgeting and wringing her hands.

"Hermione?" he asked, feel a stabbing sensation in his chest at the thought that she might be afraid of him.

"Oh Harry," she breathed. "That _was_ rather brilliant but… oh, you're going to get in so much trouble!" she said. "You know he's just going to go blabbing to a teacher. And the school year hasn't even started yet."

Without thinking he reached out and put one hand on her shoulder, not noticing how the sleeve of his shirt rode up slightly to show a thick scar starting just at his wrist that ran up and disappeared under his sleeve. Susan felt her breath catch in her throat as she saw it but didn't make a sound.

Hermione's hand came up and rested on his on her shoulder, looking up into his eyes.

"I'm sure it'll work out, one way or another. If I get in trouble, I get in trouble. I'll explain the situation. I'm sure threatening him wasn't my best move, but I couldn't let him talk to all of you like that. He's a bully. And if you don't push back at bullies they'll just assume they can get away with whatever they want and they'll just get worse and worse over time."

She nodded and gave him a weak smile and he squeezed her shoulder before he went and sat back in his corner, absently tugging at his shirt sleeve as he went.

It was an hour later after conversation had picked back up and they'd gotten back to the comfortable state they'd been in before being interrupted by Malfoy when a fifth year prefect knocked on the door to their compartment and let them know that they were almost to the station and should get into their robes.

Changing quickly they gathered their loose items, leaving pet carriers and trunks behind to be brought up to the castle for them and, as a group, the five of them stepped off the train and headed out to the carriages that would bring them to their new home for the next ten months.


	3. Sorting

**Authors Notes: Still loving the attention, gang. Really, I'm thrilled people seem to be enjoying this story so much. Gots a few things to say before we get to the main event.**

 **Numero uno: I'd like to thank the reviewer Deathcrow who made a couple comments that got me thinking. That thinking led to a slight adjustment of this chapter and an even greater adjustment in the next that, i feel, makes them better. So gracias! Keep those reviews coming, you make me want to be a better writer.**

 **Number the second: Another reviewer accused me of stealing this general concept from another story and passing it off as my own without giving credit where it was due. Well, that was impossible as I had never seen the story in question before even though our two stories share identical titles.**

 **Soul Scars, written by ShayaLonnie is an interesting story all the same. While the stories share the same title and there is a similarity of shared scars between soul mates there are some VAST differences and I contacted the author directly who assured me she did not consider my story theft of her idea at all. I think it's worth a look though so here's a link**

 **s/11923792/1/Soul-Scars**

 **Check it out, guys, it's a cute read. Less a total story and more a collection of interesting one shots, each focusing on a different pair of soul mates.**

 **Item number the three!: Disclaimer. I own nothing, please don't sue me, thank you.**

 **Oh, updates _will_ slow down slightly. Next one will be up a week from today as i really want to finish up and move onto the next book. I'm really excited about my plans for this story and by year five i hope I've blown some minds. **

**I think we're just about ready to get on with the show!**

Soul Scars

By,

Rtnwriter

Harry smiled at Hagrid as the huge man raised his fist and pounded it on the massive doors in front of them. The ride in the boats had been interesting, Harry thought. The view of the castle from across the lake was utterly spectacular, but he had been extremely distracted by Hermione pressed up against his side. The sensation had been… unusual. But not unpleasant.

A light blush had dusted her cheeks the entire time and he was reasonably certain his own face had been aflame as well but the feeling of her pressed against him had stirred an emotion he had spent nearly the entire ride attempting to name.

Comfort.

It had felt comfortable, feeling her so close to him. He didn't like people close to him. Harry Potter liked his personal space thank you very much. But Hermione had well and truly invaded that bubble of space that he preferred to keep around him and he hadn't at all minded.

Of course, by the time he figured that out the ride was over, and they were climbing out of the boats.

The doors opened and he raised his hand, brushing his finger along the scar behind his jaw while he thought over the day thus far. He'd made some new friends on the train ride. Friends that he found he really liked, and who really seemed to like him. For a moment he had the irrational fear that his whale of a cousin Dudley would pop up out of nowhere and chase them off, as he'd done any time someone at school had tried to be friends with Harry. But he reminded himself that Dudley was hundreds of miles away. For the first time he was free of his relatives influence and could actually be himself for a change.

Now he just needed to figure out who that was.

He and the rest of the first years were lead into the Great Hall and he heard Hermione saying something about the ceiling above them being enchanted. He wasn't really paying close attention to the world around him at that point, so focused on his own thoughts that he hadn't even noticed they'd stopped until the entire hall went strangely silent.

He looked up from his quiet contemplation of the stone work beneath his beat up trainers and started when the old, raggedy hat on a small three legged stool suddenly started to sing.

 _What the…_ he listened to the song, a small smile curving his lips as it reached the end and the hall burst into applause. _Well, isn't that interesting. So we try the hat on and it tells us what house we should be in._

Professor McGonagall stepped forward next to the stool holding a long roll of parchment in her hands.

"When I call your name, you will come sit and put on the hat to be sorted," she said. "Abbot, Hannah!"

Susan, Hermione, Neville, and Harry all cheered for Hannah, who blushed brightly as she stumbled up to the stool and sat. The hat came down onto her head, which fell right down over her eyes, and after a moments pause -

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down, flashing her friends a bright smile on the way.

"Bones, Susan!"

Susan waved to her friends and gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze as she brushed past him and made her way up to the stool. She sat down, hoping that she would get sorted into the same house as Harry and the hat came down and covered her eyes.

A moment later she felt a tickling sensation inside her mind and a voice echoed quietly.

" _Hmmm…_ it said. _Interesting. Very, very interesting."_

" _Who are you?"_

" _Who do you think, Miss Bones?"_

She thought for a second. _"Are you the Sorting Hat?"_

" _Right in one, Miss Bones. It's my job to search through your mind and find what makes you tick so we know where you'll be most suited…but… there appears to be a bit of a problem here."_ The hats 'voice' sounded startled and Susan began to feel a cold knot of fear developing in the pit of her stomach.

" _Is something wrong?"_

" _Not wrong, per se… more like you're not all here…"_

" _What do you mean I'm not all here? I'm sitting right here."_

" _Ah, but are you all here?"_ the hat shot back at her. _"Aren't you missing a piece or two possibly? A little part of you to make up for the little part of him that you've been holding all these years?"_

Susan didn't know whether to squeal or cry. Confirmation that she was right. It was Harry. It had always been Harry.

" _So, what does that mean?"_ she asked.

" _It means, that I need to have a discussion with someone. Hold on, young lady."_

"Hey, Albus," the hat called out, switching to an audible voice. "You and I need to pow-wow!"

#####

Harry watched as the hat sank down over Susan's eyes and waited for it to shout out what house she would be in.

And waited.

And waited.

And they all continued to wait as the seconds and minutes ticked by. The other students started to get restless, even the older ones that had sat through previous sorting started to stir and mutter amongst themselves.

After five minutes the rip near the brim opened up and the hat suddenly shouted, "Hey, Albus. You and I need to Pow-wow!"

The muttering amongst the students and now the staff got louder as Professor McGonagall stared in shock at the hat where it still sat on top of Susan's head.

"Professor, if you will?" the Headmaster said and stood from behind the staff table, reaching out for her to hand him the hat. The Professor took the hat off of Susans head and handed it to Professor Dumbledore who quickly took off his own pointed wizards hat and slipped the sorting hat onto his own head, letting it fall down to cover his eyes.

He stood silently for several minutes all the while Harry kept his eyes on Susan who looked quiet fearful. He did his best to look reassuring but wasn't sure how good a job he was doing.

At the Hufflepuff table Hannah leaned toward a fourth year student that had greeted her, Cedric Diggory. "What's going on?" she asked.

"No idea," the older boy shrugged. "As far as I know nothing like this has ever happened before."

Finally, Professor Dumbledore reach and pulled the hat off of his head, a contemplative look on his face before handing it back to McGonagall. "Miss Bones," he said in a kindly tone of voice. "If you could step aside please? We will continue with the sorting. For now the hat has said that you must wait for someone else to join you."

Susan looked confused but shrugged and hopped off of the stool, moving over to stand beside Professor McGonagall who quickly recovered herself and continued reading.

Boot, Terry got sorted into Ravenclaw. Brocklehurst, Mandy, and Bulstrode, Millicent went to Ravenclaw and Slytherin, respectively. Down the list it went until she reached-

"Granger, Hermione!"

Harry reached out and quickly squeezed Hermione's hand, surprising himself at his own actions and she flashed him a quick smile before she rushed up to the stool and sat down.

When the hat came over her eyes its voice filled her mind. _"Oh, really?"_ it said, sounding surprised. _"Another one. Well, you're going to have to join Miss Bones, I think. I'll continue with you once the rest are here."_

With a frown on her face she reached up and took off the hat to even more mutters from the assembled body of staff and students and handed the hat back to Professor McGonagall, who was looking at her with a dumbfounded expression on her face.

"Ummm… it said I needed to go stand with Susan," Hermione said and when the stern looking professor gave her a nod she hopped off and went over to stand by her newest friend. Susan gave her a weak smile but neither girl said anything, choosing instead to simply watch and see what happened.

"Greengrass, Daphne!"

Harry watched as a stunningly beautiful girl flowed up to the stool. There was no other way to describe it. She didn't walk, she seemed to glide like water across a smooth pane of glass, her waist length blond hair perfectly straight and shining in the light of the thousands of candles that lit the Great Hall. When she turned, the palest, ice blue eyes locked instantly onto his and he almost staggered at the heavy thud that echoed in his chest.

 _What the hell is wrong with me?_ He thought, just before the hat covered her eyes and the tugging sensation in his chest settled to a steady pull toward the front of the room.

" _You're going to have the hardest time, I think,"_ the hat muttered inside Daphne's mind and she arched one slim eyebrow under its cloth.

" _Why is that?"_ she wondered.

" _Well, the others have had more time with him. They've built the start of a friendship, and they're not as broken as you are. You don't trust. You'll survive, even thrive, if you let them in. But I can see it will be difficult for you. Give me back to McGonagall and go join Miss Bones and Miss Granger. We'll talk again, soon."_

Daphne reached up and took off the hat, handing it silently to the absolutely gobsmacked Professor McGonagall before she slid off the stool and strode over to join Susan and Hermione. The other two girls gave her a confused look but none of them said anything as the entire hall simply stared at the three of them for several minutes.

"Well?" the hat suddenly yelled, startling half those assembled. "Are we going to get on with this or do we want to sit around all night and stare at each other? I've got better things to do right now."

Professor McGonagall jumped and set the hat back down on the stool before she continued reading names.

Neville went to Gryffindor and Malfoy to Slytherin, as if there had been any doubt.

Moon.

Nott.

Parkinson.

Twins Patil and Patil.

Perks.

Then, finally, "Potter, Harry!"

Harry stepped forward, doing his best to ignore the whispers that had sprung up throughout the room.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

"He's so _small"_

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped down over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Nest second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

" _Ahh… difficult. Very Difficult. I've been waiting for you, Mister Potter."_

" _Waiting? For me? Why me?"_

" _Because you're missing a few pieces, and the three girls behind you have a bit extra. Ask the old cat to expand the stool and have all four of you sit down. Miss Greengrass should sit with her back to you, Miss Granger on your right and Miss Bones on your left then put me back on so I cover all four of your heads at once. Do you understand?"_

He didn't say anything but he nodded and took the hat off.

The muttering this time was the loudest yet and he looked up at the professor.

"Umm… the hat… the hat asks if you'll expand the stool and it wants all four of us to sit together so it can sort us at once," he muttered, waving one hand to indicate the three girls.

Professor McGonagall arched a brow at him, her lips pressed together into a line so thin they had nearly disappeared but she nodded and motioned for him get up. Once he had vacated the little three legged stool she waved her wand over it and it grew until it was big enough for all four of them to sit on it.

He turned and waved the girls forward and when they approached he told them where to sit as the hat had instructed him to do. Eventually they were set up, like the cardinal points on a compass, each of them facing a different direction and Professor McGonagall held the hat over their heads, which stretched to accommodate all four of them, before it slipped down and over their eyes.

" _Hmmm… yes, most difficult, as I suspected. Not everyone here is sharing the same information."_

" _What do you mean?"_ Harry asked. _"What's going on?"_

" _The girls here have been hiding something from you,"_ the hat said and Harry felt a stab of pain in his chest. He didn't know Daphne, but he'd thought that he had been making friends with Susan and Hermione. The thought that they were hiding something from him specifically hurt more than he would have thought considering their short time together thus far.

" _Not entirely, Harry,"_ Hermione hastened to reassure him. _"It's not that Susan and I were lying to you. I… there's something I learned, years ago. Today at the train station I found out that you were part of it but I didn't want to scare you so I just wanted to be friends. I wanted us to get to know each other better before springing what I knew on you."_

" _Same here, Harry,"_ Susan cut in. _"I didn't know Hermione was a part of this too, and I guess we'll have to talk about that eventually but I just want to be your friend."_

… _.._

" _Daphne?"_ Harry asked.

" _I am as confused as the rest of you,"_ she said, after a moment of silence. _"I have known for years that someone was out there. You, Harry. It's a long and complicated story that we don't have time for right now. I… I understand that trust must be a difficult thing for you. I can imagine what your life has been like to this point-"_

" _You can't possibly know what my life has been like!"_ he snapped, fear and anger running through him in equal measure and all three girls gasped in unison as the sensations flooded their own bodies. The feelings were familiar, they having felt such things before, but they were not _their_ feelings, and so felt totally alien to them.

" _Mister Potter, please control yourself. This situation is not their fault and not of their creating. The four of you are in a position to do something amazing so if you'll listen to me, Harry Potter, I'll give you the cliff notes version and your girls can fill you in later."_

" _My girls!?"_

" _Mister Potter,"_ the hat trailed off with a warning note in its 'voice' and he shrank in on himself a bit.

" _Sorry,"_ he said, sheepishly.

" _Understandable, but we do still have other students to sort, Mister Potter. So, let us continue. In the Wizarding world, a soul mate is a very real thing. Two people who's magic and souls are so perfectly attuned to each other that they're practically destined to be either each others greatest love or the best of possible friends, at the very least. Friends rarely happens, usually it's love, but this situation is unique, suffice it to say. Almost ten years ago, when Voldemort attempted to kill you his curse split your soul. Tore it to pieces, Mister Potter. Three pieces, parts of your very essence could not rejoin your body, tainted as it was at the time by dark magic. So those pieces sought out ones that could protect them and they found these three girls._

" _For years now, they have held a piece of your soul inside them, protecting it, for you. And now you have too little, and they have too much, in a manner of speaking. So, girls, I need you to listen to me. Miss Granger, take Mister Potters right hand in your left."_ Harry felt a small, soft hand clutch his and he squeezed it instinctively, a rush of warmth flooding his arm and moving up his body. _"Miss Bones, take his left hand in your right."_ Again, a hand found his and he gave it a squeeze. _"Now, Miss Greengrass, if you could reach behind you and place your left hand on the back of Mister Potters neck, we can get this show on the road."_

#####

In his one hundred and thirty seven years of life Albus Dumbledore had seen many amazing things. He'd seen the birth of a Phoenix. The love of a man who fought against impossible odds, and won, just to protect his family. He'd seen life. Love. Joy. Rapture and everything in between.

Nothing compared to what he witnessed that night when four first year students touched beneath the sorting hat.

With Harry Potter clutching the hand of the girls on either side of him, he watched the fourth of their number reach back and place her hand on the bare skin of his neck and as soon as their skin made contact all four gasped loudly and sat up perfectly straight on the stool.

The gasp from their audience drowned everything else out as the four students began to glow. A gentle golden aura surrounded Harry Potter, while wisps of silver rolled off of Hermione Grangers body and Albus Dumbledore went pale as he finally remembered the name of the little girl he'd met about her soul scars all those years ago.

He leapt from his seat behind the staff table and walked around to stand in front of Harry Potter as behind the boy, Daphne Greengrass began to glow with a gentle green aura and on his other side Susan Bones emitted a deep auburn light.

From the girls hands, where they touched him, silver, green, and auburn light flowed into his body. The silver from Hermione and the auburn from Susan flowed up his arms and over into his torso as the green from Daphne moved down his chest. After nearly a minute three brightly glowing spots had formed, just over his heart, slowly swirling and turning.

He moved around and saw a similar effect on Miss Granger. The gold spot that he had seen years before, the spot he now knew to belong to Harry Potter, had been joined by a spot of green and a spot of auburn. He knew if he looked at the other two girls that he would see the same. All four souls had mingled between their bodies, linking them all indelibly.

"Albus," Minerva hissed in his ear. "What is happening?"

"Something absolutely incredible, Minerva. Something beyond any magic we know."

"Are they safe?"

He chuckled quietly. "Oh, yes. I imagine these four will be ones to watch in the years to come. They are going to change things around here."

" _Holy shi-"_

" _Harry Potter, language,"_ Hermione cut him off before he could finish.

" _What was that?"_

" _You, Mister Potter, are a nexus, if you will. A point around which great things will be happening. You have a destiny ahead of you. Something wonderful, and terrible, all at once. If you wish to survive it, and not just survive, but thrive, you will need these girls by your side. All four of you have just completed the initial stage of a full blown soul bond. For years now, as I said, the girls have had a part of your soul. Now you have a part of theirs, and they each have a part of the others as well. This has never happened before, not in all of human history, so I believe I will be expecting great things from the four of you."_

" _That's what Olivander said. He expected great things from me."_

" _Well, the old man wasn't lying. Let's hurry up and get you sorted so that we can move on. Miss Bones, you would do well in Hufflepuff, but you have plenty of courage in you as well, Gryffindor wouldn't be a bad fit at all. Miss Granger, you've got the mind for Ravenclaw but the courage to stand up for your beliefs so Gryffindor would fit you as well. Mister Potter and Miss Greengrass, I can see that both of you would do quite well in Slytherin but there is a fire in you, Mister Potter. I don't think I've felt something like that in quite some time._

" _So I will leave it to the four of you to decide. You must be in the same house, so pick one all four of you can live with."_

" _Not Slytherin,"_ Daphne said, quickly. _"I don't want to be anywhere near that ponce Malfoy."_

" _Agreed,_ " the other three said as one.

" _I'll go wherever you guys decide,"_ Susan said. _"I think we have a lot to figure out and the hats right, we need to be in the same house to give us all time together."_

" _I'm not sure I've really got the mind for Ravenclaw."_

" _Don't sell yourself short Harry, I can already tell you're no dummy."_

" _Sounds like you've decided?"_ the hat asked and after a moment they agreed.

" _Alright, I'll call it out. When I do, Mister Potter, if you could step down, I would like to talk with the ladies for a moment longer."_

" _Umm… okay."_

" _All right… better be-_ GRYFFINDOR!"

The last word was said in a shout heard throughout the Great Hall and the Gryffindor table erupted into thunderous applause. Most of them didn't have the foggiest notion what the hell had just happened but all they knew was that Harry Potter was in their house.

Harry slipped out from under the hat and straightened up only to reach out to stop Professor McGonagall before she could take the hat.

"Sorry Professor," he said. "The hat wanted to talk to them for a moment longer."

She didn't look happy about it but she nodded and stepped back. Less than a minute passed before the girls lifted the hat off their heads and Hermione handed it to the Professor. All three hopped off the stool and together, the four of them made their way over to their new house table where a gap had opened up large enough for them to sit.

Harry sat with Hermione and Susan on either side of him with Daphne taking the spot on Susan's other side as they ignored the looks their house mates were giving them and turned to watch the rest of the sorting.

"Well talk tonight, okay Harry?" Hermione whispered in his ear and he nodded. Under the table she took his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze before turning her attention back to the front of the room. Harry noticed that she didn't let go, and he didn't try to take his hand from hers either.

The rest of the sorting continued without any further trouble or surprises and, in no time at all the feast appeared on the plates before them. Conversation was slow to start after the surprising sorting they'd just witnessed but eventually it did as the students filled their belly's and talked to those nearest them.

Harry had never seen so much food in one place, and the thought that he could finally eat his fill and that no one would take his food from him nearly made him giddy.

"Harry," Hermione whispered in his ear, "slow down. If you eat too much you'll get sick. Don't worry, there's going to be plenty for every meal."

He frowned, the niggling feeling at the back of his mind that she seemed to know more than she could possibly know, but he realized her advice was good. He'd never once had a decent meal in his life and if he tried to stuff himself, as he immediately wanted to, it probably wouldn't end well.

He loaded his plate with potatoes, chicken and some greens and ate slowly and carefully. He savored the flavors that erupted across his tongue and had to fight the urge to wolf down his food. The comforting presence of Susan's hand rubbing his back calmed him and he managed to eat until he was full but not fit to bursting.

He ignored the deserts when they appeared, not having much of a sweet tooth and feeling entirely too full to chance testing the limits of his stomach. Instead he simply observed, listening to his new housemates as they talked.

Eventually, even the deserts disappeared, and the plates were once again sparklingly clean.

The Headmaster rose and made his announcements and Harry stared at the old man when he mentioned the third floor corridor. He turned, looking to the tall redhead sitting on Hermione's other side.

"Is he a bit loony?" he asked.

"Everyone says Dumbledores a little crazy. But it's strange, he usually gives us a reason when something's out of bounds." The redhead shrugged and after they all sang the Hogwarts song, each at their own pace and to a different tune, he stood and started calling for the first years to follow him to their dorm.

Harry and the three girls with him were almost immediately waylaid by Professor McGonagall.

"Mister Potter, Miss Granger, Miss Greengrass, and Miss Bones. The headmaster would like to see you please, in his office. If you'll just follow me?"

The four of them exchanged a look and Harry shrugged before finally motioning for the professor to lead the way. They were silent as they made their way through the dimly lit halls of the great old castle. Harry found his head spinning left and right the entire way trying to take in everything he saw.

Before he knew it they had reached a large statue of a gargoyle.

"Chocolate Frogs," Professor McGonagall said and the statue slid to the side, revealing a spinning spiral staircase leading up. They stepped on and in moments found themselves in a short hall way ending at a heavy, dark wooden door. The Professor raised her hand to knock but before she could a voice echoed from the other side.

"Please, come in Minerva."

The door was opened and they stepped into a large, round office, filled to the brim with all manner of unusual artifacts. Hermione found her eyes drawn to the shelves of books, fingers itching to discover what lay hidden between their covers while Harry found the many spinning, twirling, and whistling silver artifacts that dotted tables and shelves of particular interest. Susan and Daphne simply looked around, taking in everything they could and filing it away.

"Ah, Mister Potter and company, so to speak."

"Sir, I would prefer if you didn't refer to us that way."

Albus froze, his expression dumbfounded as he eyed the young boy before him.

"I apologize, Mister Potter. Could you explain why, so that I may avoid any insult in the future?"

"'Mister Potter and Company,'" Harry quoted. "You address me by name but the three girls standing with me are relegated to 'and company'? Do they suddenly cease to have names simply because they're standing with me? Am I somehow more important than them?"

"No, of course not," Dumbledore nodded, one hand stroking his beard thoughtfully. "And you are very much correct young man. So, Miss Granger, Miss Bones, and Miss Greengrass, you have my sincerest apologies for any possible slight I may have made against you." He bowed toward them each from his spot sitting behind his truly massive wooden desk and the girls muttered some acknowledgement.

He picked up his wand and gave it a wave, causing four simple wooden chairs with light cushions to appear in a line in front of his desk. "Please, be seated and we may talk for a moment. I understand it is very late and you must all be tired but I think you can agree that something most unusual happened tonight. Would you be willing, or able, to shed any light on the subject?"

The four of them sat. Harry, feeling like he was still the least informed out of the lot of them glanced at Hermione. She seemed to realize the rest were waiting for her to speak so she shifted slightly in her seat while she thought about what to say.

"Well, Sir," she said. "When we," she gestured to herself and the girls, "sat to be sorted the hat told us that we were missing a piece, or something to that effect. So we needed to wait."

"And were you surprised to hear that?"

"Well, yes and no," she said while the other girls nodded their heads in agreement.

"Can you clarify?"

"I was surprised that the hat seemed unwilling to sort me, but once it mentioned why it seemed to make sense."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and popped a candy into his mouth as he observed the four of them for several long moments.

"Do you remember me, Miss Granger?" he asked, finally, and Hermione nodded.

"Yes, you came to my home about six years ago and explained the bond to my parents. You even showed them the piece of Harry's soul where I held it."

The boy in question turned wide eyes toward her. Her left hand was held against her chest, right over her heart. Just where he felt the thud the first time he'd looked into each of the three girls eyes and when he'd touched their skin for the first time.

"That is correct. And when I explained the-"

"Professor," Susan spoke up, cutting the aged wizard off. Behind them Minerva started, flinching as a first year student cut off Albus Dumbledore, something she didn't think had ever happened in her memory. "The hat spoke to us without Harry because…" she trailed off, glancing briefly at him before turning her eyes back to the Headmaster. "Well, we're in a delicate place, here. We've all only just met. And I don't know about Daphne and Hermione but for years I've known about the bond and I thought it was just me and whichever boy I was connected to. I didn't have the slightest clue that there would be two other girls involved here.

"And Harry, well, he didn't know anything about the bond at all, or what it meant. I can only imagine how confused he must be. Right now, I think that what's happening with us is something that the four of us need to work out for ourselves. The hat said that we aren't in any danger, we have time to let our relationships build. Friends, or whatever we may end up as, but that's up to us and I think we would be most comfortable leaving it at that."

Dumbledore considered that, his eyes moving from one student to the next slowly as he mulled the situation over.

"Well spoken, Miss Bones," he said, finally. "Yes, I can agree that this is a unique, and very personal situation so I and the staff will of course respect your privacy in this. We will make an announcement at breakfast tomorrow morning to let the students know that some very old magic occurred last night that we do not fully understand and that it would be best if they, perhaps, didn't pester the four of you with questions you may not be willing or able to answer. Is that agreeable to you all?"

They nodded and he smiled, his eyes twinkling brightly.

"Now, there _is_ one other matter of some importance that I feel I must discuss with you." Dumbledores voice had become more serious and the four of them sat up straighter. "I was informed earlier about an incident that may have happened on the train between Mister Potter and the young Mister Malfoy?"

"Yes, Sir," Harry said, his tone even. "He was insulting my friends and I took affront to that. I don't like bullies and refuse to suffer their abuse without defending myself or the target of their bullying. When he went for his wand I took action to defend myself and my friends."

"An admirable sentiment, young man. But I do feel that putting your wand to his throat may have been taking things a step or three too far, wouldn't you agree?" They ignored the startled gasp from Professor McGonagall, keeping their attention on the Headmaster.

"I do agree, Sir. I even said as much to Hermione after the fact. Perhaps I should have chosen a different course of action but I do not regret, nor do I apologize for stepping in when I did."

Professor Dumbledore studied Harry intently, his gaze sharp and was impressed when the young man met his eyes without flinching. Based on what he could guess of the abuse the boy had obviously suffered, now that he knew of his connection to Hermione, he might have expected Harry to be more timid in the face of authority.

"Since no one was injured," he said, finally, "perhaps we can see this as a lesson and if I have your assurances that you will try significantly harder to seek out a teacher or defuse any possible conflicts without the drawing of wands I think we can let this incident be and call it settled. Would you agree."

"You have my word, Sir. I will do my best to not draw my wand on another student again if I can help it. But I cannot promise not to step in if I see any bullying going on. I simply won't be able to ignore that."

"Understandable, though please exercise some critical thinking, if you would Mister Potter. And I would hope that you would feel confident in informing a teacher if you come across such things in the future."

Harry simply nodded and once again, a cheerful smile split the Headmasters face as his eyes twinkled merrily at them.

"Jolly good. Very well then. It is quite late now so off to bed with you. Minerva, if you could please escort your newest lions to their dorm? Thank you."

As soon as the door closed behind them Albus stood and strode over to the fireplace. Grabbing a pinch of powder from a jar on the mantle he threw it into the flames and called out, "Arabella Figg's residence." Judging from what he remembered, Miss Granger had been covered in scars and since Harry Potter was obviously her bonded soul mate… Albus was determined to find out just how such treatment of the savior of the wizarding world had managed to slip past the watcher he'd put in place to keep the boy safe


	4. Midnight Conversation

**Authors Note: So, here we are again... just the three of us.**

 **Rotten Writer here again with chapter four of Soul Scars. Little more information, little look into some of the characters and how's Harry handling suddenly finding out he's bonded for the rest of his life to three attractive young witches? How's his first week at Hogwarts going to go?**

 **You'll find out.**

 **In the meantime I had a question for you lovely guys and gals out there. Eventually, Harry IS getting away from the Dursleys. I'm slightly stuck on which family to place him with. At the moment it's a toss up between Amelia Bones taking over his guardianship, or Augusta Longbottom. I see pros and cones to both. So give me your votes in the reviews and I'll tally them up before the end of the first year, that's when we'll know for sure where he's gonna go.**

 **Disclaimer: I owns nothing, I be married.**

Soul Scars

by,

Rtnwriter

At a touch past midnight, the common room was empty. Everyone else had long since found their beds except for three young girls and one boy. The girls were all sitting side by side on a small sofa, staring at the boy as he paced back and forth in front of the fire, his head down, right hand up by his jaw.

Harry stroked the scar behind his jaw with one finger, the action helping to soothe the whirlwind his mind had become after the unusual sorting they'd just experienced. Every time he turned, he saw them out of the corner of his eye, watching him expectantly. He had to say, he felt a rush of gratitude for them at that moment. They didn't push or pester him. Hell, he'd been pacing for nearly half an hour now and the three of them just sat there, patiently watching him, letting him work through things on his own.

Finally, he stopped, and threw himself into a plush armchair that he'd pulled over so it was close to the couch.

"Okay, what was all that about?" he demanded.

The girls exchanged a look between them and Hermione cleared her throat a moment later as some silent communication seemed to pass between them.

"Do you understand what the hat told us, Harry?" she asked, almost timidly.

He frowned, and then his scowl deepened as all three of them seemed to flinch, just slightly.

Were they afraid of him? He didn't like that idea. Harry Potter was intimately familiar with being afraid and he did not want anyone to be afraid of him unless there was a damn good reason for it. As far as he knew, he hadn't done anything that would make them fear him.

"You- you're not afraid of me, are you?"

A noticeable tension drained out of all three girls and Hermione leaned forward, placing one of her hands on his knee. "We're not afraid of you, Harry. We couldn't possibly be afraid of _you_ , this bond we have sort of makes sure of it. But… well… we are a bit worried about how you're handling this. I can't imagine this is easy. I mean, we have all had years to get used to this idea that there was someone out there that was basically meant for us."

"Of course, this situation is a little more complicated than we'd thought," Susan said with a snort and the three of them exchanged a wry grin.

"You've just been thrown into this, though," Daphne said, her soft voice washing over them all. "No one could fault you for going off your nut a bit with all this."

He nodded and placed his hand on Hermione's where it still rested on his knee, giving it a soft squeeze before letting go and sitting back in the chair. Hermione sat back as well, taking her hand off of him and he immediately felt a sense of loss as she moved away.

"What I want to know is, why you didn't just tell me about this... whatever it is? It certainly doesn't look very good. Feels like you had ulterior motives in trying to get to know me. So, this whole friendship we had starting here was begun with a lie?" He didn't seem exceptionally angry, but he definitely wasn't happy either, and Susan and Hermione winced.

"We weren't lying," Hermione started, nervously. "I wasn't lying. I really did and do want to be friends, Harry. Yes, I was expecting to find the other side of this bond I learned about years ago, but I didn't know it was _you_. I was just trying to figure out who it was at first. Then I found you, right away, and then… what was I supposed to do? Just walk up and say, 'look, I know we've literally just met and you don't know anything about me, but we're soul mates. Just thought you should know,'?"

He considered that for a moment before glancing at Susan, who nodded.

"I was in pretty much the same boat. How do you really bring up something like that to a complete stranger? You were raised in the muggle world too. At least to people raised in our world we've heard of soul mates and soul bonds. It's rare, but not completely unheard of. To someone not raised in our world… it'd sound ridiculous, wouldn't it?"

"Okay," he said, conceding their point after a few moments and placed his right elbow into his left hand again, letting his finger brush that scar behind his jaw. "Let's take this one at a time, then. Hermione, could you tell me how you found out about all this?"

Hermione shifted in her seat, looking less than thrilled by the idea but she took a deep breath and spoke. "I think I was four, maybe five. Something happened, something… not great." She shrugged at the arched brow Harry gave her. "It's hard to describe without jumping into some things the hat told us we should keep quiet about for now."

"Okay, wait there." He held up a hand to stop her. "About that. There's information regarding this… bond, this situation we're in that the hat told all three of you to keep from me?"

They winced again but nodded and he frowned again.

"I _really_ don't like it when people lie to me."

Hermione cringed at that and exchanged another look with the girls sitting on either side of her.

"Harry," Susan tried. "Did you know that we can feel you?"

He blinked, surprised for a moment before he cocked his head slightly to the side, regarding her questioningly.

She lifted her right hand and tapped her fingers against her chest, right over her heart. "In here," she said. "We can feel you. We can feel your emotions. Your joy, and fear, and anger. When it's strong, we can feel it. We have for years. At least I have, I can only imagine it was the same for them."

Harry's eyes widened and all three of them winced again when a shock of pure terror shot through their bodies and they suddenly lunged forward before he could leap to his feet and flee. Hermione landed on her knees in front of him, her arms holding his legs down, while Susan and Daphne wrapped themselves around his right and left arms respectively.

"No, Harry," Hermione practically shouted. "Please, don't run, just listen." He struggled briefly, but one malnourished eleven-year-old boy was never going to get the best of three healthy young girls. "Please, just listen to us," she begged and slowly, ever so slowly, he began to calm.

"Okay," he said after several minutes. "You can let go of me now, I promise I'll listen. But I'd like a good explanation why you've been spying on me." Now he was getting angry. If people knew what was happening to him why the hell didn't they do anything? How much did they actually know?

Slowly, hesitantly, they released him and moved back to sit on the sofa where Susan started talking again.

"Anyway," she said, "we can feel you. So we know, somewhat. I mean, we don't _know._ Obviously, we weren't there and we didn't know who you were or where you were or we would have gotten you out of there. But we know, Harry… that you've suffered a lot over the years. And dear Merlin, please," she murmured, tears stinging at her eyes as self-loathing and shame flooded her, "please don't blame yourself. We know that your home life was awful. We know it was terrible, for you. But the point I'm trying to make is that we don't know what actually happened. We don't know the details. And we wouldn't ask you to just come out and tell us. So there are some things, we just can't say yet, just like you couldn't just sit here and list off how things were where you were raised. Does that make sense? We're not lying by keeping things from you in regards to this. There are just some things we're not ready to talk about, yet."

He thought about it for a minute while they watched him, breath held in anticipation, until he finally nodded.

"I guess I can understand that," he mumbled. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to talk about what he experienced at the Dursely's, not without a very compelling reason. He glanced at Hermione and nodded for her to continue.

"So, something happened that got some muggle authorities attention when I was young. Anyway, they came to our house, my and my parents, and they wanted to take me away from them. I didn't want to go and I ended up doing the biggest bout of accidental magic I'd ever done." She chuckled quietly for a moment. "Tore the sitting room apart and blew out every window on the ground floor. An Auror showed up." Harry gave her a confused look and Susan spoke up.

"Magical Law Enforcement," she said and he nodded.

"Yeah, he showed up and my parents didn't understand what was happening. We didn't know I was a witch, yet. So he stunned the bobbies that were there and got us all sitting down and started explaining things. During that explanation he noticed something that made him think I had a soul bond, so he called Professor Dumbledore and he came to our house.

"He explained the bond. He even did this spell, so they could all see my soul and they saw the bit of you, right here." He hand touched her chest and he nodded again, thinking of the tugging and thud that he'd felt in his own chest with the girls. "The Headmaster explained it to them, that I was holding a part of someone else's soul and that when I ever met that person, I'd just know. I'd be able to recognize him. For the last few years I've just been getting used to the idea. I mean, it is kind of every girls fantasy. That there's someone out there that's just perfect for them."

"I'm not perfect," he muttered, breaking into her monologue. "I'm just Harry."

"But you're not," Susan said.

He didn't answer, staring down at his lap.

"Harry," she whispered, gently. "Look at me."

He shook his head.

"Please, just look at me."

Reluctantly, he raised his head, piercing green eyes meeting vibrant blue.

"You're broken, Harry," she whispered. "It's not your fault. But you are. And we," she gestured between herself and the two girls beside her, "we can help you. Between us, we can help you get better. We can help you get stronger, if you'll let us. You haven't had a lot of love in your life and we can help with that."

"What the hell do I know about love?" he snapped, suddenly feeling that anger that had been buried so deep down that it rarely showed its head. "What the hell do I know?" He looked at them now, his eyes moving from one girl to the next. "You're… dammit you're all so beautiful and…" _I'm just a freak,_ he thought, but didn't voice the words. "Susan, I can already tell you're warm and funny and you're just a damn good person. Hermione, you're obviously smarter than the rest of us but you've got this determination I can just see, I can feel it." Without thinking his hand came to his chest and Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat but he'd already moved on. "And Daphne… we've spent the least time together but there's something about you. This core of solid steel. You're strong and lovely… and I think you're broken too."

Hermione and Susan turned, their eyes wide, to look at the third number in their midst.

"Not like you, Harry. But I have my own demons. We all do. And none of us are asking for a fairy tale romance here, hell we're only eleven. We know we're too young for that kind of thing but this bond… it will make sure that we're close. We're in a position to understand each other the way no one else ever could. We can sense each others feelings and if you'll let us, we can all four be the absolute best of friends first. We have plenty of time to decide what or if anything else happens."

"So you don't have a choice in the matter," he snarled, bitterly. "You're bonded to me against your will so you'll be friends with the poor freak."

"That's enough!"

He jumped at the sharp rebuke and turned wide eyes to Hermione.

"Harry James Potter… oooohhhhhhh this is why we wanted to spend some time just being friends before bringing the rest of this mess into it," she groaned and rubbed a hand over her face. "Look. You haven't gotten to know us but you've already pegged a few things pretty accurately. We've spent years, now, getting to know you to a degree. We've felt your emotions and I think we know you a bit better than you think we do.

"Yes, none of asked for this bond but it's not something that was done to us. You didn't do this to us. It's almost literally like the universe saying 'these people would do well together,' but we don't _have_ to be friends. We don't _have_ to even talk to you. But we want to. Well, I want to I can't speak for Susan and Daphne." Both girls mentioned nodded their heads in complete agreement with their bushy haired counterpart.

"Besides, you're kind of stuck with us, Harry. Not because we're being forced to be close to you, but because we want to be. You literally have a part of our souls. If we're all so well suited for each other that our _souls_ are compatible… then we must all be worth getting to know better. I'll understand if it takes time to process. I'll understand if it takes time for you to come to grips with everything. I'm not expecting you to just decide 'oh everything is fine and dandy let's all be the best of friends right away'. But you might as well get used to the idea that I, for one, _want_ to be your friend. I want to see where life takes us and from everything I've seen and felt today, and from the few things you've said, do you really want to turn away people that _want_ to be your friend?"

It took a while, several minutes, where Harry just stared at them, his eyes moving back and forth from one to another before, finally, he shook his head, slowly.

"My turn then?" Susan asked and the others nodded. "I think it started earlier than Hermione or we understood what it meant earlier, at least. I was two or three when my Auntie noticed. Probably the same something that Auror noticed, with her."

"And you're not going to tell me what it is they noticed, are you?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Susan shook her head. "Honestly, I don't completely agree with the reasoning for keeping it secret. But I can understand that this is all somewhat overwhelming and maybe it'd be best to leave that bit for now. Let us all get a little more used to each other."

Harry sighed and pushed his glasses up, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to stave off a headache. "Your Aunt was the woman we saw on the platform?"

"Yes, Amelia Bones. She just recently became Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement. She's in charge of the Aurors. And…" she hesitated until Harry motioned for her to continue. "She asked me to write to her about you, Harry. We've been looking for you for years now, ever since she realized we had a bond and I could tell her some of what I was feeling, or what you were feeling. The fear and the pain… the hunger."

He paled at that one and the three of them almost made to dive at him again but he held a hand up, stopping them short. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths before he opened them again.

"Why?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

"She wants to get you out of there, Harry," Susan practically pleaded. "I'm sorry if you feel betrayed, or like I've been spying on you or something. All we knew is that someone connected to me was in pain. And we just wanted to make things better. My Aunt wanted to find you, whoever you were, and get you away from the situation that had you so scared and hurting so much, and just so damn hungry." Susan didn't even bother to hold back the tears. She just couldn't do it anymore. She was a true Hufflepuff at heart. Steadfast and loyal and the thought of someone she cared about being in pain hurt her like nothing else. "We don't want you to go back there. We don't want you to have anything to do with it, ever again. If I can write to her, let her know what's going on, she can look into what she can do, legally, to make sure you never have to go back there again."

She felt a hand on her cheek and gasped, eyes shooting open. She hadn't even realized she'd closed them. The brilliant, almost glowing green of Harry's eyes filled her vision and dimly she felt his thumb running across her cheek, wiping away her tears.

"Okay," he whispered so only she could hear him. "Write to your Aunt. Just… don't cry, anymore." _I'm not worth your tears,_ he thought.

She couldn't help the beaming smile that split her face and before she even thought about it she launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him fiercely whispering thanks over and over into his ear.

He stiffened completely when she crashed into him. His muscles grew taught, arms held out from his sides. He didn't know what to do. This was the first time in his entire life that he could ever remember someone hugging him and he just didn't know what to do about it. Slowly, awkwardly he started to close his arms around her but before he could she had moved back to sitting on the sofa beside Hermione and he quickly gathered himself before rising up off his knees and returning to his chair.

"I guess that means it's my turn?" All eyes turned to Daphne and she sighed. "My story isn't too different from Susan's. My father noticed the same thing I imagine brought this to the attention of the other adults in question here and he was… less than pleased."

"Why?"

"Because of my family."

All three of them simply looked at her and she sighed again, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, hands clasped together in front of her.

"My family is pureblood. Has been for centuries. At first, father was cautiously thrilled, he figured I was bonded to some pure blood heir and set about trying to find out who my bonded was. I'm sure he wanted to arrange a betrothal contract. Eventually he worked his way through all of the known families and realized that I was bonded either to a half-blood or a muggle-born, and he wasn't exactly thrilled by that thought."

For a moment Daphne was taken aback by the anger she felt. She had thought that she had long ago gotten over the rage and unfairness of the situation and had moved on. Until she looked up and saw three hard faces regarding her carefully. Her eyes widened when she realized that it wasn't her anger she was feeling, but Harry's, Susan's, and Hermione's.

She gave them a weak smile, which did nothing to calm any of them. "It's all right," she said. "Well… no, it isn't. But it will be. I will be fine, I've got the three of you now, right?"

"Damn straight."

"Hermione, language," Harry said in a teasing voice as the girl blushed fiercely at what she'd said.

"Well, it's true," she defended herself. "We're all in this together. All four of us."

Harry and Susan nodded, each in complete agreement and Daphne smiled again, a real, happy smile for the first time in she couldn't remember how long.

"Thank you," she said and the other three could feel how strongly she meant it, which went a great way toward calming their anger. "Anyway, my father is… complicated. He isn't a cruel man, or a horrible father but… well, he's not very emotive either, and he expects very strict obedience. I know he loves me and my mother and my sister but he doesn't show it well, or often.

"After coming to the conclusion that whoever I was bonded to was not a pureblood that could help increase our Houses wealth or social status he decided to wait, see who it was I was actually bonded to and he would move from there. That's fairly standard for the Greengrass family, actually. We have a long history of being relatively neutral in all things, only acting once it was obvious which side was the winning side. That includes in politics, business, and during the war. The Greengrass family didn't side with You-Know-Who, but they didn't actively support the light, either."

She winced and gave Harry an apologetic look. "And I'll have to write to him too. He really wants to know who my bonded is but I fear he won't take this information well."

"So sure he's going to hate me?"

Daphne shook her head. "Exactly the opposite. My father has always been more concerned with politics and power than he was with family. And my being bonded to the Boy-Who-Lived… he'll see opportunity in that."

"Opportunity?"

She made a face. "Yes. My father is all about making alliances and in the wizarding world betrothal contracts are still used by some of the older pureblood families. He would see a chance to link our family to the famous Boy-Who-Lived as an opportunity worth taking."

Harry blinked. "Wouldn't that be seen as taking a side against Voldemort by his followers that are still out there?"

"With him gone, Father might see it as a chance worth taking."

"So, where does that put us, right now?" Harry asked after several silent minutes.

"Right now?" Hermione glanced at the girls to either side of her. "Right now we're friends. At least, I hope you consider us friends. We're going to go to school and deal with homework and tests and everything else that comes with it. And, hopefully, over time, you'll open up to us, and we can open up to you, and we just see where things take us."

Susan and Daphne nodded and Harry considered that for a few moments longer before nodding as well.

"Okay, I think I can get behind that." He leaned back in his chair and stretched, eyes squeezing shut with both arms reaching far over his head. The sleeves of his shirt fell and the girls stared as a few scars came into view, glimmering in the firelight before be dropped his arms again. He didn't notice their reactions.

"I'm exhausted," he said. "This… this has been a lot to take in. I think I'm going to go to bed." He hesitated for a second. "Did you all want to meet here in the morning? We can head down to breakfast together?"

The nodded. "That sounds good, Harry," Hermione said and he stood, giving them a small smile before he made his way to the stairs and up to the first year boys dorm.

As soon as he was gone Daphne and Susan spun in their seats until they were facing Hermione.

"The scars?" Daphne asked. "Is that how you two knew?"

Without saying anything Susan and Hermione drew back their left sleeves. Daphne did the same and all three looked at the identical scars marring their skin.

"I can't believe how strong he is. To survive all this and not be a complete and utter wreck?" Susan shook her head in wonder. "It's amazing. He's far more well adjusted than I thought he would be."

"I don't think he really is," Hermione disagreed. "I think he's just gotten really good at hiding it."

"Do we really want to keep hiding this?" Susan asked. "I mean, he's made it very clear he doesn't like people keeping things from him and this does directly affect him, and us."

"Except he's keeping things from us too. And your argument was solid, Susan. He wouldn't just come out and tell us all about what's happened to him at home. I'm sure he thinks he's ugly, deformed because of his scars, how do you think he'd feel if he found out we shared them? I'm pretty sure he'd blame himself. No. I don't like it much either but I think it's still for the best that we don't let him know about the scars. At least not yet."

"If I ever get my hands on the fuckers that did this to him," Daphne suddenly burst out, her pale face flushed with anger but she stamped down on it as hard as she could.

"I know," Susan muttered. "I can't imagine what kind of monster would do something like this to a child."

"Oh my god. You two don't know, do you?"

Daphne and Susan shared a look across Hermione before turning their eyes back to the girl between them. "Know what?" Daphne asked, a sense of dread growing in the pit of her stomach.

"God, I wanted to die when I saw this one," Hermione whispered, tracing the scar with the fingertips of her right hand. "Nobody did this one to him."

"What do you mean," Susan asked.

"Harry did this one himself. He did it to himself."

"What? Why would he do that?"

Hermione tried to blink back the tears, instead sending them spilling over to drip down her cheeks. "Whatever was happening to him where he lived. Whatever those monsters were doing to him. He must have thought this was his only way out."

"Merlins beard, Hermione would you please just tell us? Is this a muggle thing or what?" Daphne demanded.

"Look at the scar." Hermione traced her finger near her wrist. "Across the wrist, then up, along the arm." She looked up, both girls staring into her cinnamon eyes. "This scar. This was when it got to be too much. With this one, Harry was trying to kill himself to escape."

#####

After probably the most restful nights sleep that Harry could remember having, despite how short it was, he woke at seven the next morning and climbed out of the huge four poster bed to get ready for the day. Long since practiced at hiding, he avoided the other boys in his dorm and made his way into the showers.

He didn't look at the scars. He just went about cleaning himself, ignoring the stinging pain from the still unhealed wounds on his back, and dried as quickly as he could after turning off the water. Dressing just as quickly he didn't even try to deal with his hair, having given it up as a lost cause years before. He pulled his robes on over his school uniform, thrilled to be wearing new clothes that actually fit him for the first time in his life, and made his way downstairs.

He found Neville sitting in an armchair near the portrait hole but none of the girls were present yet so he went over to talk to his fellow first year.

"All right there, Nev?" he asked.

"Doing good, Harry." Neville looked up from his Herbology textbook and smiled at the raven haired boy. "Quite a light show you guys put on last night."

"Light show?"

"You didn't know? Oh, you guys were under the hat so you couldn't see. When you were all touching you started glowing. It was really beautiful, to be honest."

"Really?"

Neville nodded. "Oh yeah. Never seen anything like it before. Do you know what happened?" Harry hesitated for a second and Neville seemed to deflate a bit. "That's okay, if you don't want to tell me," he said. "It's none of my business."

"Woah, hold up Nev. Weren't you the one that told me Potters and Longbottoms stand together?" Neville nodded. "Well, I don't mind you knowing, not really. I'm still trying to process it all myself to be honest. You'd have to promise to keep it a secret, though, it's rather personal don't we don't want everyone knowing if we can help it, but it's not just my story to tell, right? There's three other people that were involved so I think I'd rather get their input before I went blabbing about what happened last night. Think you can be patient for a bit until I can talk to Hermione, Daphne, and Susan?"

Neville smiled and nodded. "That's fine Harry. And really, if they don't want me to know, that's cool too. It is your guy's business after all."

Harry smiled, relieved that Neville understood, and clapped the other boy on the shoulder. It looked like being friends was a lot more complicated than he thought it'd be. "You're a pal, Nev. I appreciate that." He dropped into a nearby chair and they spent a few minutes chatting about Herbology, a subject that Neville seemed to already have more than a passing understanding of before the girls join them, coming down from their dorm and honing in on Harry in no time.

"Morning, girls," Harry started to say before they stopped in front of him. He let out a startled squawk when Hermione grabbed the front of his robes in both hands and yanked him to his feet. Before he new it his vision was obscured by a mass of bushy brown hair and his nose was assaulted by the scents of vanilla and parchment as her arms were wrapped tightly around him in a rib creaking hug. He stiffened up on instinct but before he had a chance to react any more than that she had released him and he found his sight covered again by a soft cloud of vibrant red strands as Susan immediately replaced Hermione, her arms wrapping snugly around his body. He caught honeysuckle and… some kind of oil?

He did his best to hide the wince when her hand landed on one of the cuts on his back but they didn't seem to notice as suddenly, Susan stepped away and Daphne replaced her. The hug from Daphne was much softer, but her body was pressed tighter against him, if at all possible. Her straight blond strands didn't blind him, but her scents were even stronger. Pine and fresh strawberries.

When she was done, she stepped away, joining the other girls and leaving Harry, and Neville, for that matter, looking like they'd both been slapped in the face with a live trout. The former was also beet red in addition to absolutely gobsmacked.

Hermione giggled for a second before turning to the other two. "I think we broke him," she said and they all burst out laughing while Harry finally came back to himself and glared at them. He couldn't really feel too angry with them, though, so he let out a huge sigh and shot a look at Neville.

"Want to join us for breakfas,t Nev?" he asked and the other boy nodded before closing his book and slipping it into his bag. He climbed to his feet, slung his bag over his shoulder and led the way out of the common room and into the hall.

"Are you three okay?" he asked, noticing that all three of them looked rather tired.

"We're fine, Harry," Hermione said. "Thank you for asking. We're just a little tired, didn't manage to get much sleep last night."

He fidgeted slightly before sighing. "It's not my fault is it?"

"Not entirely, Harry. We were just comparing notes on those things that we can't really say to you yet and we realized how much worse things were than we'd thought. But don't worry." She placed a hand on his shoulder and stopped in the middle of the hall, turning him to look at her. "Please, don't worry about us with this. We're coming to terms with it and we'll be here to help you through everything you'll let us help you with, okay?"

He struggled with the desire to tell them he didn't need their help. He'd spent years relying on no one but himself so trying to accept that someone else, anyone else, actually _wanted_ to help him was such an alien concept that he just didn't know what to do with it.

"You three are bonded to me, right?" he whispered, leaning closer so only she could hear him and once again vanilla filled his scences. She nodded, her hair tickling the side of his face and he leaned in even more. "There's no changing that?" She shook her head. "Then you're a part of me. And I'm a part of all of you. I haven't known you, any of you, for long, and I'm still not thrilled how this all came about but… there's no sense fighting something that can't be changed. So, don't think for a second I'll ever not worry about all three of you. You literally hold a part of my soul and you've trusted me with part of yours."

Hermione shivered as his breath brushed across her ear and Susan and Daphne could feel the same tremors running through their own bodies through the link that tied them all together.

"So we'll agree to worry about each other, then?" Hermione tried.

"I think I can live with that." Harry stepped back, smiling broadly at her and he turned and continued on his way, the girls following in his wake as he caught up to Neville.

"What was that about?' Daphne asked. Hermione quickly filled them in and the looks on the other girls faces had her cringing. "And he says he doesn't know anything about love. If you were older you'd have dragged that boy off to the nearest broom cupboard right then."

As Hermione attempted to imitate a tomato while spluttering and stammering denials Daphne and Susan both broke out into great peals of laughter. By the time they took their seats in the great hall, the girls had gotten themselves mostly under control, though Hermione's face was still a bit red and she flushed even harder when Harry sent her a questioning look.

She shook her head and he frowned for a moment. "Daphne and Susan were just poking some fun at my expense," she muttered. He arched a brow at her but shrugged before loading his plate and turning his attention back to Neville. Which reminded him. "Oh," he said, drawing their attention. "Neville asked about the sorting last night. Personally, I don't mind explaining it to him, later, when we can find somewhere quiet, but I'll leave it to you to decide if you mind him knowing what happened or not." They nodded and then all four of them got down to the serious business of eating breakfast.

"Easy, Harry," Hermione reminded him, leaning close to whisper to him when he started to load some rather heavy foods onto his plate. "Your stomach needs time to adjust, don't rush, okay?"

He flushed, shame running through him, but she simply laid her hand on his knee again and he nodded once before he settled in to eat.

As first weeks went, Harry couldn't really complain too much. Charms was easily one of his favorite classes and, if he hadn't been so embarrassed by the attention, he might have laughed when the diminutive Professor Flitwick fell off his stack of books after reading his name during roll. Defense Against the Dark Arts was less than inspiring with the stuttering Professor Quirell, plus the headache he found himself dealing with by the end of it. He'd brushed off the girls concern when they notice him rubbing his forehead after class.

It wasn't until Potions that Friday morning that he realized things weren't always going to be simple at Hogwarts.

The day had started out well enough. Harry received a letter from Hagrid that morning asking if he would come down to his cabin for some tea that afternoon, and after a quick discussion it was agreed they would all head down after lunch to visit him.

"Hagrid, he's that big man that led us in the boats, right?" Daphne asked as she gently stroked the soft feathers on Hedwig's chest while Susan gave her a piece of bacon.

"Yeah, he was the first person I ever met from the Wizarding world. Brought me my Hogwarts letter when Uncle Vernon was trying to keep them away from me and he bought me Hedwig too as a birthday present."

All three girls had quickly fallen in love with the gorgeous snowy owl that seemed to mother Harry as much as they wanted to, so, for that reason alone, they all decided, nearly in unison, that Hagrid was their new favorite person, after Harry.

"Here you go, girl," he said as he tied a quick response to Hagrid's letter to Hedwig's leg. Hedwig leapt up onto Harry's shoulder and rubbed her head against his cheek for a moment before nipping gently at his ear and a genuine smile split his face again. Hedwig launched herself into the air, spreading her broad wings and in moments she had disappeared out of an open window.

"All right, you lot." He stood and grabbed his book bag, slinging it over his shoulder with a look that encompassed all three girls and Neville. "Ready to get this over with?"

Together, they trooped down to the dungeons for probably the singularly most frustrating lesson that any of them had ever experienced.

Harry had just put his bag down at his seat, somewhere as close to having his back against a wall as he could find, when the door flew open with a loud bang. Harry jumped, nearly missing his chair when he went to sit down. Luckily he wasn't the only one that jumped at the mans' entrance, so he didn't draw much attention to himself with his own reaction, thank god.

"Harry Potter, our new celebrity."

Professor Snape was a sallow complexioned, bitter looking individual. His facial expressions seemed stuck between a sneer and a scowl of varying degrees and he seemed to take an immediate dislike of Harry from the first class.

"Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel with an infusion of wormwood?"

 _Don't react,_ he thought. Harry considered the question, hands pressed flat against the desk in front of him. He'd had little to do during his time after getting his letter than to read and he'd made sure to stock up ahead of time on extra texts for each subject. "I believe those ingredients are part of a powerful sleeping draught," he said as Hermione practically bounced in her seat next to him, her arm raised to answer the question. "The name escapes me, however, Sir."

"Clearly, fame isn't everything," Snap said with a sneer firmly in place while pointedly ignoring Hermione and her raised hand. "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Snape glared while Harry thought to himself, _don't react. He'll get bored if you don't react._ "Under our current conditions? I would recommend the student pantry, Professor. Otherwise one can be found in the stomach of a goat and is a go to solution as an antidote for most poisons."

Harry's arms were beginning to tremble as he pressed his hands harder to the desk.

Snape glared at him, still choosing to ignore Hermione's hand raised beside Harry.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

That one caused Harry to consider for a moment as Hermione's hand shot into the air again, almost clipping his ear on the way by. "There isn't much of one," he said, finally. "If I remember correctly they're different names for the same plant, also known as aconite." _Don't react. Don't react. Don't react. Don't react._

Snape glared at Harry for a moment and he thought he saw something glimmering in the depths of the older mans obsidian eyes.

Harry flinched.

"For your information, Potter, powdered root of asphodel and an infusion of wormwood are key ingredients in the Draught of Living Death." He paused and turned his glare on the rest of the class. "Well?" he snapped. "Why aren't you all writing this down?" There was a sudden rummaging for parchment and quills and over the noise Snape said, "And that will be a point from Gryffindor, Potter, for your cheek."

Things didn't improve at all during the rest of class for the Gryffindor students and by the end of it at least one cauldron had been melted and Snape was screaming at Harry for the mistake Neville made in brewing his potion.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Neville muttered, miserably, as Harry was helping him toward the hospital wing.

"What for, Nev?"

"For getting you in trouble."

"Why? Did you do it on purpose?"

"What? No, of course not!"

"Then you don't have anything to be sorry for. Accidents happens. Especially when you've got a great greasy git like Snape breathing down your neck, I'm surprised more people didn't mess up."

They were silent for a few more minutes. "You're a strange guy, ya know that, Harry?"

Harry suppressed a smirk and nodded. "So I've been told, Nev. So I've been told."

#####

How had they missed it? How had no one noticed? Why hadn't he said anything to a teacher at his school? Or had he? From all accounts Vernon Dursley was a well respected pillar of the community. Much like Lucius Malfoy he somehow managed to commit unspeakable acts of evil but the public could find no fault with him.

Dumbledore wasn't able to even summon a small smirk at the thought of how incensed the Head of House Malfoy would be to be compared to a common muggle. He sat behind his desk, fingers threaded together in front of his face as he thought over and over of the information he had received from Mrs. Figg the night before.

In all the years she'd been keeping an eye on young Mister Potter she claimed to never once have noticed anything out of sorts. Further research showed that no hospital had any record of Harry Potter ever being seen, and there were no records with child services of any complaints ever being made.

Was the fear generated by that overbearing walrus of a man truly so all encompassing?

The aged wizard shook himself and glanced at the time. Nearly time for dinner in the Great Hall. He had many a great many decisions to make, and he would need to tread carefully. If it became known that Harry Potter had been abused by his muggle relatives, then the blood-supremacist faction would have far more fertile ground to sow their seeds of bigotry and hatred. If it came out that the guardianship of Harry Potter was in question there would be dozens, hundreds of families lining up to take him in and a great many of them would probably see to it that the boy was either never heard from again or was indoctrinated in their pureblood ways.

It was an uncertain future that loomed ahead of them, but if there was one thing that Albus Dumbledore knew for sure, there was absolutely no way in hell that Mister Potter was ever going to darken the door of Number 4 Privet Drive, ever again. But to do so, to make it legal and to ensure that Harry lived with family that would help him, and not further hinder him, was going to take the cunning of a Slytherin and the sheer bullheaded bravery of a Gryffindor. And more than a healthy dose of luck as well.

To do so, he would need allies.

Decision made, he, once again, made his way to the fireplace and threw in a pinch of Floo powder, calling out, "Amelia Bones," before he knealt and stuck his head in the flames.

It was time to plan.


	5. Flying Lessons

**Authors Note: Guten tag! Rotten Writer, once again at your service. So I'm posting this chapter a little earlier than my originally planned Tuesday Evening since this Tuesday I'll be spending half my day in a five hour tattoo session. Might not get a chance or time to post, so here it is.**

 **Originally this Chapter 05 was the shortest of all chapters yet, and not a lot really happened. It just kind of felt like filler, to me. So I combined it with Chapter 06 so you've now got the longest chapter to date in this story.**

 **One point I want to make is that a reviewer commented on the maturity of these eleven-year-old kids. My thought was Harry is mature beyond his years due to his living situation, despite his issues. He's had no choice but to grow up fast. The girls are of a similar theme. Sure that they would be needed and relied on by someone damaged, they grew up quick. Also I can neither confirm nor deny allegations that their bond may be** _ **encouraging**_ **them to be a little more mature in their thinking and such.**

 **Anyways, on with the show!**

Soul Scars

By,

Rtnwriter

Neville was out of the hospital wing with more than enough time to make it to lunch. He slipped into a seat across from Harry and quickly filled his plate as he joined in the conversation. They would be heading down to visit Hagrid after they ate.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, as they ate.

"Hmmm?"

"We talked it over, and we don't mind Neville knowing what happened at the sorting, just so long as he knows it's not something we want spread around. We don't mind friends knowing the basics but… this is… it's private. The school's only just stopped staring at us all the time. I don't think you want them finding out what it all means and starting even more rumors."

He growled, thinking of all the whispering, staring and pointing they'd already endured. Why couldn't he ever just fade into the background and avoid peoples attention? Ever since he first stepped foot back in the wizarding world he'd felt like a bug under a microscope. There was always someone staring, pointing, or whispering wherever he went. He hated the attention, but he hated more that the girls were subjected to it just by association with him.

"Yeah, I can understand that. After we talk to Hagrid maybe we can find an empty class room and fill him in?" She nodded and gave him a small smile. They talked while they ate. Daphne, it turned out, had a talent for transfiguration and was explaining some of the finer points of their last lesson to Hermione who was nodding along as she scribbled out some notes. Susan and Neville were discussing Herbology, while Harry just picked at his food and observed his friend and his bonded interacting.

It felt good, being in the company of friends. But something was bothering him, bad enough that the girls picked up on it. All three faltered in mid conversation to turn to him, a concerned look in their eyes. Neville stuttered to a stop in the middle of explaining something to Susan when he realized that all three girls were staring intently at the last Potter and he hadn't the foggiest what it was that had gotten their attention.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, as usual, the spokesperson for his girls.

 _My girls?_ He thought. _When did I start thinking of them like that?_

He shook his head, both to dispel his wandering thoughts, and in response to Hermione's query.

"This isn't right," he decided.

"What isn't?"

"Susan? When was the last time you talked to Hannah? Or spent any time with her?"

Susan blinked at the sudden question and a stab of guilt shot through her as the answer immediately came to her. "Well, not since the train, really," she admitted.

"Daphne, same for you and your friend Tracey that you told us about?"

Daphne nodded, silently.

"That's not right. They're your friends, why aren't you spending time with them, too?"

Susan and Daphne shifted slightly under his scrutiny and his eyes narrowed as an idea began to form. "You've been focusing on spending time with me, so you haven't had time to spend with them." It wasn't a question but they nodded anyway. "We have plenty of time to spend together. We're in the same house and in all the same classes." He dropped his knife and fork and pushed himself to his feet, waving the girls down when they started to stand as well. "I'll be right back," he said, giving them a small smile.

Without waiting for any possible response he stepped over the bench and made his way to the Hufflepuff table. It didn't take him long to find the blond he was looking for and he tapped her on the shoulder, leaning down speak to her quietly for a moment after she turned to look at him. Susan could see the emotions running across her old friends face. Confusion, at first. Then surprise. Finally settling into a curious interest. After a minute she nodded and he smiled before he walked away, this time heading straight for the Slytherin table.

The girls and Neville stood at that, watching him carefully, ready to rush to his aid, should it become necessary.

 _Now,_ he thought. _If I were a friend of Daphne's, where would I be?_

His eyes scanned up and down the length of the table, ignoring the looks he was getting from the Slytherins and from the nearby occupants of the Ravenclaw table. Finally, he spotted who he thought must be Tracey. She was sitting at the far end of the table, apart from the rest of her housemates with her head down over her plate as she ate. His feet carried him past the majority of Slytherin house as more and more eyes started to follow him.

"Miss Davis?" he asked from a spot a few feet away and to her side. He hadn't wanted to come up behind her as he had with Hannah. As far as he knew, that could have been a dangerous thing to do to a Slytherin. She turned, proving he'd correctly identified his target, and eyed him carefully.

"What'd you want, Potter?" she snapped. "Not happy with stealing my best friend you have to come over here and rub it in my face, too, that you won't let her talk to me?"

He blinked, somewhat surprised by the blatant hostility in her words and tone but it only served to reinforce his resolve that this was a mistake he needed to correct.

"Exactly the opposite, actually. I've just found out that Daphne has been avoiding spending time with you in order to spend time with me. I don't like that. She's talked about you a lot and it's clear she thinks very highly of you and considers you her closest friend." He shrugged. "I don't know of anyone that has so many friends they can afford to just let one slip away, especially not a best friend. So, I'm here to invite you to join us at our table, if you'd like to have lunch with your friend. She misses you."

Tracey didn't look convinced, but he could see that he had at least gotten her attention. "Hogwarts students aren't allowed to eat at other tables outside of their house."

"Not true, actually. I looked it up last night. The Hogwarts charter states that students must dine with their own house during special occasions such as the opening and leaving feast, or if there were a ball held or something to that effect. Otherwise, during the school year, there is no rule requiring students to eat with their house mates and it is, in fact, encouraged that students spend time with others outside their house. Personally, I don't see a reason to limit the number of friends I can have to only one quarter of the schools population, do you?

"That being said, the invitation stands. You're welcome to join us whenever you wish. If you would rather not at this time, that's fine as well, but your friend misses you, and I'm sure you miss her. Otherwise, as soon as we're finished eating lunch we're all going to head down to have tea with Hagrid, the Groundskeeper. You're more than welcome to join us then, if you'd like."

He stood there, hands clasped behind his back as he watched her, doing his best to ignore the whispers that started to spread outward across the great hall.

Tracey eyed him, as if he were a puzzle she was trying to solve. Eventually he saw the slightest hint of a smile curve her lips. "You're interrupting my meal, Potter," she said. "Why don't you head back to your table. I _was_ planning on going for a walk on the grounds but now I'm not so sure if you're going to be out there."

"Sorry, for interrupting you, then," he said and gave a slight bow before he turned and made his way back to the Gryffindor table. Hannah had already moved tables and was sitting next to Neville and across from Susan. He slid into his empty space, Hermione on his right and Susan on his left.

"I would have warned you that wasn't going to work if you'd told me what you were going to do," Daphne said. "But, thank you, for trying."

"Huh? What didn't work?"

"Tracey won't come eat with us."

"Well of course not." He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and speared a piece of chicken from his plate, chewing thoughtfully for a moment. "She's in Slytherin. There's no way she could accept such an invitation in the middle of the Great Hall, not with Malfoy and his cronies sitting at the table. They would have made her life hell as soon as they got back to their dorms. But, the invitation has been made. Now she can give it a few days before accepting and make it seem like she's using my invitation as a means to get closer to me or to Neville or Susan."

Hannah, Neville, Susan, and Hermione all blinked, looking at him like he'd just sprouted a second head. Daphne looked like she was thinking through the implications of his words, and by the slow smile she was wearing, she was starting to see his angle.

"Why you three?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowed as she tried to follow his logic.

"Well, Daphne is already friends with her. There's nothing more Tracey could do from a political or power standpoint by getting close to her. Hermione, your family doesn't have any political clout, at the moment. I'm sure you'll end up Minister of Magic one day the way you beat the pants off of all of us in class." He ignored the flush that spread up Hermione's cheeks and made his way down the rest of his list.

"Hannah, from what I understand the Abbot's are a rather small house, not wielding a great deal of political power there, but still it's an ancient house line, right?" he glanced at Neville who nodded. "So she might want to make some inroads into being your friend to see what doors that might open for her. Possible, but one of the least likely options.

"Then there's Susan, Neville and me. Susan's Aunt is the Head of the DMLE, and Susan is the last of her family line. That's a precarious, but potentially powerful position to be in. When Susan can take her seat on the Wizengemont it would behoove Tracey to be in a position to possibly influence her good friend Susan in regards to various laws or appointments. Same with Neville, as House Longbottom has quite the reputation from what Neville tells me. And then there's me. The whole Boy-Who-Lived tripe, plus the last of a Most Ancient and Noble House, to anyone with any political leanings I must look like a Christmas goose, just ripe for the plucking."

He returned to his lunch, aware, and somewhat enjoying the completely dumbfounded looks on his friends faces.

"Not a bad idea," Daphne admitted, "but Tracey is a half-blood and she doesn't have any political leanings at all. She would never use someone like that."

Harry smirked at her. "Do her house mates know that?"

There was a heavy silence and across from him the smile growing on Nevilles face looked like it was going to split his entire head in half. Suddenly, he burst out laughing, slapping the table repeatedly with one hand. "Blimey, Harry, that's brilliant," he gasped when he could finally speak. "You just gave her a valid reason to spend time with us lowly Gryffindors, all while saving face in her own house."

Susan and Hermione were still shocked, but Daphne could only think that the smug smirk that had made its way onto Harry's lips was doing funny things to her insides.

"Harry," Hannah said, her voice awed. "That was downright devious."

"Thank you," he said. "I've been paying attention to Neville here. He's been filling me in on all the house politics most nights in the common room. Since I'll have to take over as Head of House one day I figured it was important that I understood how things worked, at least a bit."

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to find Daphne standing behind him. As soon as he was facing her she practically threw herself into his arms.

He stiffened up, again, surprised by the sudden contact, but she ignored it and just held onto him until, slowly, his arms coiled around her and he returned the hug for the first time. It was awkward and stiff, but it was a start. "Thank you, Harry," she whispered in his ear and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek before she pulled away.

He was positive he had just flushed a brilliant red and his hand came up to the spot where she'd kissed him without any conscious thought on his part. "A-anytime," he said and she gave him a small smile. He turned back to finish his lunch, completely ignorant of the knowing smirks passing between the girls every time his fingers came up to brush against his cheek.

#####

"Harry," Neville said, "look at this."

Harry turned from watching Daphne and Tracey chattering away at the speed of thought, a bemused smile on his face, to see what Neville wanted to show him. The smile that had curved his bondeds lips when Tracey met them on the path to Hagrid's hut and the resulting hug and second kiss on his cheek had been an eye opener for Harry. Daphne was always so quiet and reserved, the true quintessential pureblood princess. He was only just starting to realize that her calm facade was exactly that. A mask she put on and presented to the world. Underneath that quiet veneer she could be just as outgoing and bubbly as any other eleven-year-old girl, and Tracey was the key that opened up that part of her.

"What am I looki- never mind, I see it."

GRINGOTTS BREAK IN!-

Read the headline on the front page of the Daily Prophet that had been sitting on the huge table in the center of Hagrid's hut. Neville was sitting on his right with Hermione and Susan on his left while Daphne and Tracey had sequestered themselves a little further down, heads together as they spoke quietly. Hannah leaned over Neville causing the boy to flush as she looked at the paper in Harry's hand.

"Someone actually broke into Gringotts?" she asked, shock clearly lacing her voice. "I'm surprised the goblins would even admit to something like that. Their reputation for security has always been the best in the world."

"It says here that the vault they broke into had been emptied out just the day before." Harry took note of the vault number and something about it tickled at his memory. "Hey, Hagrid?" he asked. "Isn't that the vault that you visited on my birthday?"

Hagrid glanced at the paper before his face paled and he gave them a nervous grin. "So, 'ow've you lot been enjoyin' Hogwarts?" he asked, ignoring Harry's question entirely as he came over with a plate of rock cakes in one hand and a large pot of tea in the other. He set them both down on the table and took his seat in the massive chair that had obviously been made specifically for him, even then it still creaked ominously under his weight.

His behavior was confusing, Harry felt, but he pushed it aside and focused on his friends. They talked for a while and enjoyed their tea while pretending to nibble on rock cakes before making their excuses and began heading back to the castle.

"Susan? Daphne?" Harry said as they walked. "Did you want to invite Tracey and Hannah along to tell them about the bond when we talk to Neville?"

The girls gave him a long look. "What?" he asked, worried that he'd made a mistake by offering to let them tell their friends.

"Nothing, really, Harry," Susan said. "It's just… you gave us time to decide if we trusted Neville and here you are, after having one conversation with Tracey and only spending one afternoon with Hannah just offering to let us fill them in. You don't even know them."

He nodded but the answer seemed obvious to him. "Well, you two trust them. So I'll trust them with this if you do. You certainly know them better than I do."

Both girls leaned in and gave him a brief hug, ignoring how he still stiffened in their arms at the contact. They had decided days previously that he had simply never known any physical contact that wasn't painful and didn't know what to do when confronted with affection. Eventually, he would learn that he didn't have to fear them touching him. They would just have to keep wearing down his defenses.

"Well, they kind of already know, to a point. They were our best friends growing up," Susan pointed out as they let go of him and continued walking. "So they've known there was someone out there, but they didn't know it was you until we did, and we still haven't told them what else happened during the sorting either. So I would love to invite them along as long as you and Hermione are both okay with it as well."

"I already asked Hermione about it on our way down to Hagrid's, and it's fine with me." He turned around and started walking backwards as he motioned to Hannah, Tracey, and Neville who were falling behind a little bit. "Come on you three. We're gonna find somewhere quiet for a chat."

#####

"So, what's this all about?" Tracey asked some minutes later once they were all ensconced in an unused classroom on the fourth floor.

"We figured you guys could use an explanation for the light show that Neville tells me we put on during the sorting," Harry said.

"I kind of already know about it," Hannah cut in and Tracey nodded beside her. Neville glanced at the girls but didn't say anything and quickly turned his attention back to Harry who was leaning against what would have been the professors desk if the classroom was still in use.

"Not everything, Trace," Daphne cut in. "There's a little more that's happened since we last spoke."

"So, what was it?"

"It was a soul bond, Nev." Harry looked at the girls standing on either side of him before returning his attention to the trio sitting in the student seats. "According to the hat, when Voldemort-" the three of them as well as Susan and Daphne flinched but Harry pressed on "killed my parents a decade ago and then turned his wand on me it fractured my soul. Apparently, the killing curse tore my soul into three pieces-"

"Four, Harry," Hermione interrupted.

"I thought he said three?"

"He said it tore three pieces loose, but you still have some of your own soul, so four total."

He shrugged. "Makes sense. Okay, so the curse tore three parts of my soul from my body. Because of the dark magic tainting me from the curse those pieces couldn't return, or merge back with me, or whatever. So instead they went out looking for souls that could house them and protect them. It looks like these three had souls that matched mine well enough they were able to protect the pieces for me."

"So… what, did they give the pieces back during the sorting?" Neville asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No. I don't think it would have been possible but I don't really know how this all works. I haven't been able to find anything written about this whole bond idea that wasn't almost entirely guesswork since it's so rare for it to happen. Instead of giving back the pieces of Harry's soul, we gave him a piece of our own."

"And we gave each other matching pieces too," Susan spoke up. "The hat said that this bond with the four of us, it's never happened before. Ever. The only soul bonds ever mentioned in any stories or legends always have just two people involved, so for four of us to be tied together like this… it's never been done, so we really don't know what's going to happen in the long run."

Hannah's eyes were as wide as saucers. "And you guys aren't scared? I mean, you have no idea what could be happening to you right now."

Harry and the girls all shrugged. "There's nothing that we could do about it even if something was going on. Aside from that, I just feel like it's all okay." He frowned, unable to really explain it any better than that. "I don't know how else to put it, really. Honestly, I'm not thrilled to have another choice in my life taken from me... but I think we'll be fine, our friendship is just going to be a little different than others."

"You know," Hermione muttered thoughtfully, "that might actually be why there's so little written about these bonds." She noticed her bonded staring at her in confusion so she elaborated, "well, we can't even describe it. We can't put into words how we feel about it or how we're connected to each other. Since only people that have experienced it could understand, I imagine it would be really difficult and deeply personal to try to write a book about it."

They nodded and turned their attention back to their friends as they processed this information for several minutes until finally, Neville spoke up, "is what happened at lunch because of this bond?"

Harry blinked and glanced at the girls, who all looked as confused as he felt.

"That depends, I guess. What happened at lunch?"

"All three of you stopped what you were doing, a couple in mid sentence, and you turned to stare at Harry. It was almost eerie, to be honest."

"Oh, yeah," Hermione muttered. "Well the bond does a few things from what we've been able to tell. One is that we can sense each other's emotions. We could feel that something was bothering him."

"The something being that I hadn't seen Daphne or Susan spend any time with you two," Harry added, nodding to Tracey and Hannah. "I didn't like that."

"I'm still deciphering the other girls emotions, honestly," Susan admitted. "We've been connected to Harry for a lot longer than we have to each other, so I recognize his feelings pretty quickly. But sometimes I feel something and I'm not sure if it's me feeling it or Daphne or Hermione."

"Have you considered occlumency?" Tracey offered.

Susan frowned. "I never studied it very seriously. I'm not very good but it might help."

Hermione was bouncing in place. "What is occlumency?" she demanded.

"Take a breath, Hermione," Daphne muttered, "before you combust." She ignored the pout sent her way. "Occlumency is a mental discipline designed to shield and protect your mind from leglimencers, people with the ability to pull memories from your mind. A lot of pureblood families instruct their children in at least the basics in order to protect family secrets."

"There are seriously people that can read our minds?" Harry asked, a disgusted expression on his face. That thought did _not_ sit well with him. The very idea felt like such a violation that he shuddered in disgust.

"It's not exactly mind reading, but close."

"How can we learn?" he growled, "I don't like the idea of someone rummaging around in my mind."

"I'll write to Aunty," Susan offered. "She can send us a few copies of the books we used."

"So what else is there?" Hannah asked and the four bonded shrugged.

"We can sense each others emotions and feel when one of us is hurt," Harry said. "There's something else, but I'm being intentionally left in the dark." His tone at the end was a bit bitter and Hermione huffed in exasperation.

"Harry, we explained that already."

"I know! I know, okay? And I do understand but… it still bugs me a little. I can't help that."

No one said anything for a few minutes until Neville stepped forward and cleared his throat.

"Harry, I want to thank you for sharing this with me. All of you," he added, looking to each girl in turn. "It really is none of my business, but it means a lot that you would all trust me with this kind of information and you have my word I won't breathe a word to anyone."

Harry shoved aside his irritation. "Like I've already said, Nev, you said it on the train, where a Longbottom goes, a Potter will stand beside him. Who am I to deny centuries of tradition?" They shared a grin and the girls all rolled their eyes.

"Come on boys," Hermione said as she started toward the door, "it's going to be dinner time in a couple hours and we should probably get started on some of our homework. I don't know about you but I'd like to be able to relax a bit this weekend."

They all gathered their things and headed out into the hall and toward the library.

"Hey Nev?"

"Yeah, Harry?"

"I think we should try to make some more friends."

"Why's that, Harry?"

"Well, at the moment our pool of friends is five girls."

"So?"

"We need some blokes to even things out. Right now we're out numbered!"

Argus Filch was later heard ranting about disruptive brats as two, laughing wizards ran through the halls of Hogwarts with five, slightly irate witches hot on their tails.

#####

"This is going to be wicked," Harry gushed as they made their way out of the castle and across the grounds that Saturday after breakfast.

"Right," Daphne said in a sarcastic drawl, "because making a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy is just what I want to be doing with my Saturday morning."

Harry gave her a curious look. "How can you be so sure you'll make a fool of yourself."

"I've flown a broomstick before, Potter," she said. "Trust me. It isn't one of my better skills."

"Well, just do your best, all anyone can ask of you, really. Right?" She gave him a tight lipped smile and a nod and he turned his attention to Hermione who was walking on his other side muttering to herself all the tips and bits of advice she'd gathered from other students and from any book she could get her hands on over the last week.

"Hermione, you need to take a breath. You're just getting yourself worked up."

"I'm sorry, I'm just not a big fan of heights and I want to do well."

"It's not a test, we're not getting graded here. It's just a handy skill and they want everyone to at least know the basics."

"Why aren't you nervous, Harry?" Susan asked from Hermione's other side. "I'd think that this would be as scary to you as it is to Hermione. Daphne and I at least grew up around brooms."

Harry got a far away look on his face and muttered something that none of them caught.

"What was that?" Hermione prodded gently, her mind successfully distracted from her own worries for a moment.

"I've always wished I could fly," he repeated, louder so they could hear him. "It always seemed like, if I could fly, maybe I could escape."

The girls were silent for a moment and then Harry felt a small hand slip into his and squeeze, gently. "I'm sure you'll be an amazing flyer, Harry," Hermione murmured so that only he could hear her.

He shot her a grin. "I also used to dream occasionally about a flying motorcycle. Always thought that just sounded like an awesome idea."

"Used to?"

He shrugged, his attention mostly focused on the rows of brooms laid out on the grass waiting for them. "I don't have good dreams anymore," he said, absently.

She frowned but didn't say anything else as the rest of their class huddled in close, listening to Madam Hooch's instructions.

"Hey Neville, still got your Remembrall?" Ron Weasley called as they all stood beside their brooms.

"Yeah, thanks, Ron."

"Still can't believe that git Malfoy tried to cause so much trouble over it," Harry muttered. He'd been ready to tackle the blond ponce to the floor if Hermione hadn't grabbed ahold of the back of his robes. Luckily, Professor McGonagall had shown up just after that and defused the situation.

Flying went reasonably well, up to a point. The broom shot up into his hand the moment he'd given it the command, 'up!'. Looking around he noticed that Hermione was having a bit more trouble. Susan and Daphne both had their brooms in hand though Daphne looked like she was holding a live snake instead of a broom.

"Hermione, it's a broom. It isn't an animal or something and it's not going to bite you. You're in charge of it, not the other way around. So just hold your hand out and issue a command, and believe that it's going to be obeyed. You expect it to obey."

She gave him a sidelong look before looking back at the broom. After taking a deep breath she said, sharply, "Up!" and the broom shot right off of the grass and into her hand with a solid thwack. She turned to him, giving him the biggest smile he'd yet seen her produce and he smiled back, thrilled for her.

"Alright," Madam Hooch called. "Mount up! Right leg over the broom like so and grip it like so. Little further back toward you, Miss Granger, it'll be easier to control. Mister Malfoy your grip is all wrong."

"What? I've been doing it this way for years!"

"Well, then you've been doing it wrong for years."

A few of the Gryffindors sniggered as Malfoy attempted to bluster and bully his way through, as usual, and only ended up losing Slytherin house points before having to change his grip to the way Madam Hooch told him or risk being grounded for the rest of the lesson.

"All right," she called, blowing a quick blast on her whistle to get their attention. "When I say, you are to push off gently, rise up five feet, hover for a moment and then settle back to the ground. Ready? One… Two… hey, you get back down here!"

Neville, nervous as always had pushed off too early, and too hard. For a moment Harry had a clear view of Nevilles face, pale with terror and eyes wide as he'd ever seen them as his broom shot up easily twenty feet. Neville struggled to bring the broom under control, jerking the handle up and down and from side to side in an attempt to wrangle it under his command.

In the end, inevitably so, there was a loud crack and audible thud when Neville hit the ground. Harry dropped his broom and broke into a run, reaching the whimpering young Longbottom just before Madam Hooch did.

"All right, Nev?" he asked, kneeling down next to his friend. "Little much there, mate. No fair showing off like that before the rest of us get a chance."

Neville chuckled slightly, holding his right wrist carefully with his left. "Well, I figure leave them with a lasting impression, right?"

"Broken wrist," Madam Hooch tutted with a clicking of her tongue after she quickly examined Neville. "Come on young man, let's get you to the hospital wing." She turned and addressed the rest of the class. "I will be back shortly," she said. "I expect the rest of you to keep your feet firmly on the ground or losing house points will be the very least of your worries."

Just before she lead Neville off she turned and gave Harry an appraising look. "Ten points to Gryffindor, Mister Potter, for attending a fallen classmate."

"That was a nice thing you did there, Potter," Daphne said in a quiet murmur when he walked back to the rest of them. He smiled but only shrugged while they waited for Madam Hooch to return.

"Did you see his face? I don't know what Dumbledore is thinking letting squibs like him attend this school," Malfoy sneered. Harry groaned mentally and closed his eyes. _I really don't want to deal with this today,_ he thought.

Malloy bent over and picked up something off the grass. "Looks like Longbottom dropped his little toy," he said, tossing the Remembrall from one hand to another.

"Give it here, Malfoy," Harry snapped. He _really_ didn't like bullies. "That doesn't belong to you."

"You know what, Potter? I don't think I will." Smirking, Draco mounted his broom and hovered a few feet off the ground. "I think I'll go leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find, like on top of the Astronomy tower?" With that he shot off into the air and Harry held out his hand. Without a word the broom he'd been using before shot off the ground and smacked into his hand.

"Harry, no!" Hermione cried out. "You'll get in so much trouble."

"I can't just let a bully be, Hermione. If he isn't shown that he can't get away with doing whatever he wants then he'll just get worse and worse as time goes on."

"I'm with you, Harry." Susan had stepped up beside him, her own broom in hand and a scowl fixed on her pretty face. He shot her a grin, mounted his broom and pushed off, hard.

It was so simple. Effortless. He didn't know how, but Harry just knew, he _knew_ just how to control the broom. He could feel the magic coursing through the grain of the wood in his hands and he pushed with his own magic, boosting the power of the broom under him as he shot into the air like a miniature rocket.

He came to a stop just in front of Malfoy who suddenly seemed less than eager to be sitting astride a broom fifty feet in the air.

"Not quite so brave without your hired muscle, are you Malfoy?" Harry shouted. "Now give me that Remembrall, it belongs to Neville."

Malfoy swallowed nervously, his eyes flicking back and forth for a moment and out of the corner of his eye Harry could see Susan come to a stop, hovering about ten feet away on his left, watching the both of them.

"And what'll you do if I don't Potter?" Malfoy demanded.

"I'll knock you off that broom!" Harry leaned forward and the broom leapt under him, powering toward the nervous Draco who pulled up sharply on his own broom, just barely rising enough so that Harry passed underneath him. Dimly he thought he heard a scream of terror that sounded a lot like Hermione echo up from the ground far below but he had already spun his broom one hundred and eighty degrees so that he was facing Draco again.

"Catch Potter!" Draco suddenly shouted and pulled his arm back and threw the tiny glass orb as far and as hard as he could. The moment the orb left his hand he pushed his broom down in a dive toward the ground but Harry was already off.

He twisted and pushed the broom for all it was worth, rocketing through the air until he suddenly flipped upside down and pulled up on the broom, going into a corkscrew dive so he wouldn't lose any momentum. That time, he knew for sure the scream was Hermione as he dove vertically, straight for the ground, eyes fixed on the tiny glimmer of sunlight reflecting off the glass ball.

Twenty feet from the ground.

Fifteen feet.

Ten feet.

Finally, five feet above the grass, he pulled up as hard as he could on the broom handle and his right hand shot out like a striking viper, his fingers closing around the Remembrall as he shot back toward the sky.

He heard another scream and looked up just in time to see Susan slip from her broom out into thin air.

#####

"Never seen anything like it in all my years as a Professor at this school!" McGonagall was ranting, arms flailing as she gesticulated wildly. She was pacing back and forth in front of the black board in an unused classroom. Harry was sitting at one of the student desks, Susan held protectively in his arms where she sat on his lap, trembling in fear. Hermione and Daphne each stood behind him at either shoulder and a bemused Fifth Year student, briefly introduced as Oliver Wood, was watching the entire proceedings with an expression that clearly said he was certain his head of house had gone round the twist.

"Professor, what are you saying?"

"Wood," McGonagall said, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "I have found you a new Seeker!"

Wood perked up, his interest caught by that and he glanced at the four other students in the room.

"Really? Uh… which one, Professor?"

"Oh, Mister Potter here, my apologies Mister Wood. I saw it with my own eyes. He went into a vertical corkscrew dive from fifty feet and pulled up five feet off the ground just in time to catch a… what was it?"

"A Remembrall, Professor," Hermione offered. "Neville received it in the post this morning, from his Gran."

"Yes, a Remembrall. Caught it one handed, just snatched it out of the air, easy as you please. _Then,_ then he shot back into the air and he also caught Miss Bones who had just fallen from her broom. Twenty feet from the ground he scooped her up and landed them both without even a tumble."

Oliver was hardly listening at that point. "He's got the build for it," he said, studying Harry carefully. "He's small so he'll be quick. Done much flying Potter?"

Harry shook his head. "Never been on a broom before today," he admitted.

McGonagall and Woods mouths dropped open. "Are you telling me, you pulled off a stunt like that and it was your _first time on a broom?"_ The Professor practically shrieked. Harry nodded.

"I will speak to Professor Dumbledore myself about relaxing the rule regarding first years playing Quiditch. Wood, you get him trained up and I'll see about ordering a broom. He'll need something with power, a Nimbus 2000 I think."

"Are you okay, Susan?" Harry asked, ignoring his head of house as she and the other student continued to chatter back and forth at each other.

"I'll live, Harry." She clung tightly to him, tremors still running through her body as she thought of how close she'd come. "I've never been so scared in my life," she whispered.

"Hey." Harry tilted her head up with a finger under her chin. "I'd never let anything happen to you if there was anything I could do to stop it. Understand? I take care of my friends, and you girls are the absolute best friends I've ever had."

"When did you get so protective of your friends?" she asked and he gave her a small smile.

"The minute I made my first friends. September first of this year."

Behind him he felt Hermione move more than he saw her and before he had a chance to stop her she put her hand on his right shoulder and gave what she meant to be a comforting squeeze.

He flinched, hard, almost sending Susan tumbling off of his lap to the floor as he wrenched his shoulder from Hermione's grip and bit the inside of his cheek to try and smother the pained groan that escaped him despite his best efforts. He tasted blood.

"Mister Potter?"

He groaned again, mentally that time, at the harsh tone in his head of House's voice and squinted his eyes open, well aware that he had a pained expression on his face that he could do nothing to smooth out. Sweat had broken out on his forehead and his shoulder was throbbing madly in time with each beat of his heart.

"I'm fine, Professor," he tried, reasonably certain she wasn't going to buy it.

"Dammit, Harry," Daphne snapped. "You are _not_ 'fine', what the hell did you do to your shoulder?"

He couldn't do everything at once. He couldn't force away the pain and push down on the link he had learned to recognize that connected him to the girls. He didn't want them to feel his pain. Didn't want to worry them. He didn't have so many friends, he thought, that he could afford to drive them bonkers worrying about him. Eventually they'd up and drop him just to get away from the constant worry.

"Mister Potter," Professor McGonagall barked when he didn't say anything for a solid minute.

"I might have… slightly strained my shoulder when I caught Susan," he finally admitted when he realized that he had _four_ women giving him a disapproving glare and somewhere at the back of his mind he prayed that the three girls in his life didn't take lessons from McGonagall on intimidation. They could already be scary, but if they added her repertoire of frowns and glares then he'd really be in trouble.

"Strained your…" Susan tried to jump off his lap but he wrapped his arm securely around her waist, refusing to let her move despite the pain it caused in his shoulder. His breath started coming in short pants as the pain got worse and worse with her thrashing. "Harry! Let go of me. You're hurting yourself! Why didn't you say anything?"

He gave her a weak grin. "And pass up the chance to hold a pretty girl in my arms? I might be thick sometimes, but I'm not a total moron."

Susan flushed so brilliantly he was pretty sure her face started to match her hair color but before he could distract them any further the Professor gave a disapproving sniff.

"Be that as it may, Mister Potter. I think it's to the hospital wing with you."

"And that's exactly where I won't be going." He nudged Susan slightly, attempting to get her to stand but she suddenly had no intention of leaving his lap since her presence was effectively preventing him from making a run for it.

Dammit.

"And why not, may I ask, Mister Potter?"

"I'm fine. Just a little ache. Some food and some sleep and I'll be right as rain by morning."

"Professor? Can we have a moment with Harry, please?" Daphne asked politely. McGonagall eyed them for a moment before giving Daphne a short nod and she started for the door.

"Come along, Wood," she called back over her shoulder. "We have work to do and Mister Potter won't be in any condition to train today so we can get started on other things while we wait for him."

When the door closed behind them Harry heaved out a sigh. "Thanks Daphne. I really don't want to go to the hospital wing."

"Oh you're going, Potter. Make no mistake about that. I just wanted to say something to you and I didn't want to have to do so in front of an audience."

He looked at Susan, still perched on his lap, and Hermione where she stood anxiously nearby. "This isn't an audience?" he asked and Daphne snorted in a most unladylike manner.

"They're a part of us just as much as we are a part of them. Listen carefully, Potter. We can feel how much pain you're in. We're not feeling it as sharply as you are, but it's there, and we know it. No idea how you managed to hide it until Hermione touched you, which is a different conversation that we _will_ be having." He winced at that. "Madam Pomfrey needs to examine your shoulder and if you're worried about what she'll find, there is still a healer/patient confidentiality. She can't tell anyone what she finds without your express permission. Her oaths as a healer expressly forbid her from doing so."

"Like it'd be the first time someone ever broke an oath," he muttered.

"Not these Oaths," she said and he could literally hear the capital 'o' in the way she said the word. "I forget you grew up in the muggle world, but a Wizard or Witches Oath is one sworn on the wizard or witches very life or magic. If she were to betray her Oath she would either lose all her magic or she'd be dead before she could even hit the ground. So you can be sure that she won't give up any information that you don't want someone else to know without your explicit permission to do so."

She gave him a look up and down, or as much as she could see of him with Susan still occupying his lap. When Daphne spoke next her tone was somewhat hesitant, "Harry, how much do you weigh?"

"What? What's that have to do with anything?"

"Just humor me please? You can't be even five stone, I'm guessing?"

Harry's head fell forward, pressing against Susans upper back between her shoulder blades and he muttered something under his breath.

"Harrrryyyyy…" Daphne dragged out the sound of his name in a threatening manner and he sighed and sat back up.

"About four stone," He said, clearly, defiantly, holding Dapnes ice blue gaze with his own rich green.

"And for an eleven-year-old boy you _should_ be at least five and a half to six stone."

"Right, we've determined I didn't get the proper nutrition growing up. You've all already told me you could feel how hungry I was. So? My growth is stunted. Are you happy? What the hell does that have to do with anything?" He wasn't quite shouting by the end but his instinctive defense mechanisms had kicked in and his anger was growing.

"Ask Madam Pomfrey about some potions."

He blinked.

Daphne held his gaze.

He blinked again.

"What?"

"Eloquent as ever, Potter," she said with a smirk and he stuck his tongue out at her which had Hermione giggling a little. "You think you're the first wizard in the world to not get enough to eat? Ever hear of people that have such fast metabolisms they simply have trouble putting on weight to get them to a healthy level? There are nutrient potions that she could give you, a whole regimen of them, that could help you get up to a healthier weight, even help stimulate any growth you might have missed out on. You could be half a head taller and a stone heavier by Christmas with the right potions."

He considered that and couldn't even pretend that it wasn't an appealing thought.

"You've got to ask her about them though. You're a minor so she can't offer you treatments without the permission of your guardian, beyond the immediate and specific treatment of injuries. If you ask her first though, then she can see about treatment. So. Willing to go to the hospital wing now?"

He just nodded dumbly and Daphne gestured for Susan to let him up. She did, even though she tried to hide a slight pout. She'd been rather comfortable sitting on Harry's lap. He climbed to his feet and headed for the door. When he had a little trouble getting his book bag up onto his left shoulder Susan wordlessly took it from him. They started down the hall and behind him Hermione wordlessly held up her hand, facing Daphne who quietly lifted her own and the two girls shared a gentle high five for one minor victory on their road to ensuring Harry Potter got the healing and care he so richly deserved.

"Hey," he asked as they walked, "what's a Seeker?"

#####

"Robes and shirt off, Mister Potter," Madam Pomfrey ordered. "Honestly, I don't know why people still insist on using brooms, death traps I'm telling you. Absolute death traps. Miss Bones, are you in need of a calming draught after your ordeal?"

The four Gryffindors were somewhat bemused as the portly Mediwitch bustled about her domain, a force of nature in a pointed witches cap. She stopped, staring intently at Susan for a few moments before she realized the Mediwitch was waiting for an answer and she jumped. "Oh," she said. "No, Madam Pomfrey, thank you. I'm feeling much calmer, Harry was very good at reassuring me after he got me back on the ground."

"Very well," she said after staring Susan down for a moment longer. "You three may leave." She turned back to a small wheeled table where she was setting up lines of potions and all three girls felt a sudden rush of anxious terror.

"Um… Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione ventured, blanching slightly when she turned to look at them. "We'd actually prefer to stay, if you don't mind."

"Mister Potter's condition is between himself and his healer. You don't want to spend an afternoon in the hospital wing when you could be spending time with your friends."

"Did Professor Dumbledore not inform you of our status?" Daphne asked, sighing when the witch simply gave them a blank look. Daphne gestured between Harry and the three girls with one arm. "We're all part of a soul bond, Madam," she said. "If Harry would like us to leave, we'll do so, but we're more than just friends, our presence could be beneficial."

"They can stay," Harry spoke up, quietly. He was sitting on one of the beds, eyes fixed on his beat up trainers where they poked out from beneath his robes.

Madam Pomfrey huffed but said nothing else about them leaving. "I don't believe I've ever met a bonded set before. After Mister Potter has recovered from this I'll need to see all four of you back in here so I can take some scans. I want to see if there's anything unusual in the scans because of the bond." Daphne quietly agreed and the mediwitch turned her attention back to Harry.

"Robes and shirt, Mister Potter. I will be back momentarily." With a few flicks and swishes of her wand a set of privacy screens erected themselves around the bed, cutting Harry off from view and three simple, straight backed chairs marched their way across the pristine floor and lined up for the girls to sit.

She bustled off, muttering to herself all the while, while the girls sat, placing their and Harry's bags down next to the chairs. On the other said they heard a low groan and the shuffling of cloth. They sat quietly, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to return when there was a quiet, resigned sigh from the other side of the screens. Anxious indecision, worry, even a touch of fear. Those were the emotions they could feel across their bond and they exchanged a look, wondering what could be bothering Harry.

"Harry?" Hermione called. "Is everything all right?"

He was silent for a moment before he sighed again. "No. Not really. I… I'm sorry, I could use some help?"

They blinked. Asking for help was good. "Is there one of us you'd be more comfortable with helping right now?" Hermione asked. There was silence for a time. "You won't hurt our feelings picking one of us, Harry. We're not competing with each other or anything we're all your friends and we just want to help, okay?"

"Susan, then, please."

When Susan came around the screens Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed still, his robes pooled behind him and he was attempting to tug on the cuff of his left sleeve with his teeth, trying to pull it far enough for him to get his arm out. His right arm was hanging limply at his side.

Without a word, and ignoring the shamed flush that stained Harrys cheeks and neck, she carefully helped him get his left arm out of his sleeve, lifted the shirt over his head and gently tugged the garment down his right arm. She stamped down every instinct to gasp at the sight of the scars that covered his torso. She was used to the sight of them, having seen them in the mirror so many times before. What she wasn't used to, was the emaciated look of him.

His sternum and every single rib stood out sharply against skin the looked like it was stretched across his skeleton. His collar bones protruded, leaving deep hollows and his upper arms couldn't have been much bigger around than her wrist. She blinked back the tears he didn't see because he kept his head turned resolutely away from her. He also, she noticed, kept the inside of his left forearm pressed against his side so she couldn't see it.

Without a word she took the shirt and folded it, setting it on a chair nearby, followed by his robes and his tie. "Need anything else, Harry?" she asked gently, trying to convey without words, that she didn't think any less of him.

"No. Thank you, Susan, I'm good from here."

She nodded and turned to walk away when he suddenly spoke in a quiet voice, stopping her.

"Thank you," he said again in a low tone and she nodded, knowing exactly what he meant.

 _Thank you, for not making a big deal out of this._

She returned to Daphne and Hermione to find that the seating arrangement had changed. Most times Hermione stood in the middle between her and Daphne and that's how it'd been when she went behind the screens. When she returned, though, Hermione had moved over, leaving the middle seat for her, and the moment she sat down she felt the girls move closer to her, their arms going around her as they offered what comfort they could.

"All right, Mister Potter," Pomfrey said as she bustled her way back to them and around the privacy screens. "Let's see what kind of damage you've done to yo-"

Hermione, Daphne, and Susan exchanged a look when Madam Pomfrey suddenly fell silent and they could only imagine the look on the matronly woman's face as she got her first good look at the Boy-Who-Lived.

True to her level of professionalism though, she recovered quickly and they heard her muttering a few spells from behind the screen.

"Dislocated shoulder, strained tendons and ligaments, and it looks like some torn muscle tissue as well. I am sorry to tell you Mister Potter, but you simply do not, yet, have the muscle mass to be catching young women out of the air."

"Well, I couldn't just let her fall," Harry said and from his voice they could tell he was gritting his teeth. He let out a pained chuckle. "Only met her on the first, but somehow she and those two with her seem to have wormed their way into my life and I really don't want to imagine what it'd be like without any of them in it."

Madam Pomfrey hummed quietly while all three girls blushed brilliantly, secretly glad that Harry couldn't see them. "Well I'm going to have to pop that shoulder back into place, and I'm sorry to say that it won't be a pleasant experience."

"That's all right, Madam. It wouldn't be the first time."

There was a pause and they didn't have any trouble picturing the disapproving look she must have been giving him.

"All right, Mister Potter. Deep breath, if you will, and hold it…" A moment later she muttered a sharp word and the three of them paled considerably as there was a loud, sickening sounding pop that echoed through the empty hospital wing and Harry let out a pained grunt, but no more than that. "Down the hatch Mister Potter," Madam Pomfrey said. "Muscle relaxant and tissue knitting potion. Pain reliever. And something to help repair the damage to those tendons and ligaments. I've got a bruise salve for you here, too, that you'll need to speed up the healing. I would recommend that you either return here each night before bed for the next week or you can ask one of your young ladies to help you apply it."

"I can do it myself," he muttered and she tutted for a moment but made no further comment.

"Get your shirt back on and then I want you to wear this sling for the rest of the day and don't use your right arm for anything if you can help it. You should be okay to move it tomorrow for most day to day things but nothing strenuous until the bruises are healed, am I understood?"

"Is Quidditch training strenuous?"

"Absolutely it is, Mister Potter, and if I do not get your word right this moment that you will not be attending any Quidditch practices until after the bruises are healed I'll confine you to the hospital wing effective immediately! I will not have you undoing the work I've just done to put you back together by playing that ridiculous game!"

"I was just asking, Madam, I promise. I've never seen a Quidditch match so I really don't know what it's like. If you say it's too much, I'll take your word for it."

She huffed but said nothing and a moment later he spoke again, "I promise, I won't be doing any Quidditch practice until the bruises heal. But I can still go and watch, right? As long as I don't participate?"

"That would be acceptable, Mister Potter. Now, shirt, sling, and don't let me see you back here again this term, if at all possible."

"Harry?" Daphne called out. "Potions."

"Oh right, thank you Daphne. Madam Pomfrey, I've been informed that there may be some potions that you could provide for me to try and put on some weight?"

"There are," she said, drawing out the words. "Are you requesting such a treatment regimen, Mister Potter?"

"I believe I am."

"All right. I'll need you to lie back for a moment, please. I need to run a few more diagnostic spells to get a look at you and determine exactly what course of potions will be needed."

While Madam Pomfrey was casting spells Daphne leaned closer and whispered in Susan's ear, "thank you."

"For what?" she whispered back.

"I'm glad you didn't get hurt, and I'm sorry that Harry did, but if you hadn't fallen off your broom I'm not sure how we were going to talk Harry into coming in here to ask about those potions."

Susan giggled. "Happy to help, but next time, you can fall off the broom." There was no heat to her words and a small smile played around her lips, mirrored by the one on Daphnes face.

Half an hour later Harry was dressed, again with Susan's help, and Daphne had a wooden box tucked under one arm with a three month supply of potions shrunken down and each clearly labeled to be drunk with each meal. They thanked Madam Pomfrey and were on their way out of the door when the Mediwitch reached out and stopped Hermione with a hand on her shoulder.

She turned to look into the older woman eyes, unsurprised to see barely masked rage and sympathy glittering in her gaze.

"Madam Pomfrey?"

"He's not going to put that bruise salve on, is he?" she asked, though it really sounded more like a statement than a question.

Hermione shrugged one shoulder. "I can't say for sure, really. But I doubt it. We practically had to force him just to come see you. He wanted to just sleep the injury off."

The Mediwitch huffed again, and went back behind the privacy screens, coming back a moment later with a second jar of the salve which she placed in Hermione's hands.

"Instructions are on the label. Please, take care of that fool of a young man?" she asked. "You say you're bonded so I think we both know that he appears to have been fending for himself for far too long. He's going to need someone to help him, but he's obviously too stubborn and too used to being self reliant to even know that he needs the help."

"You have my word," Hermione said, clutching the jar tightly. "We have every intention of helping him as much as we can."

"And don't forget, I want all four of you in here soon for an exam."

"Of course Madam Pomfrey. Thank you."

She nodded and sent Hermione scurrying to catch up with her bonded.

Poppy watched as they left then turned back to her office. Sitting at her desk she pulled out a piece of parchment, inked her quill, and began to write.

 _Department of Child Services in conjunction with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement._

 _Healer Poppy Pomfrey of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, reporting:_

 _Per my Healers Oath, I am writing to report the discovery of a child showing signs of severe, long term, physical abuse…._


	6. Or Worse, Expelled

**Authors Note: Rotten Writer, here again boys and girls.**

 **So... as a little Thank You, guys, for all the great responses to this story, I've decided to give you a short and quick little update a bit early this week. As of writing this note this story is sitting with 104 Reviews; 292 Favorites; and 543 Followers.**

 **I'm blown away. Seriously.**

 **You guys are awesome and I'm doing my best to keep bringing you updates every Tuesday.**

 **So, here's a little fun and some warm fuzzies for you guys, Enjoy.**

Soul Scars

by,

Rtnwriter

"How exactly did I get dragged into this, again?" Harry asked, biting back the urge to sigh out of pure exasperation.

"He called you out! How could you not want to take the little ponce down?"

"Well, maybe since I dislocated my shoulder a few hours ago and I'm not supposed to do anything strenuous for the next week? Oh, and there are three girls that would absolutely kill me if they found out I let you talk me into this."

"But Harry, you can't just turn down a wizards duel. Not with Malfoy. Think of the opportunity to knock him on his arse."

"Yeah, I did that on the train ride from Kings Cross, no problems. And I didn't have to duel him to do it, Weasely."

"It's Ron, Harry. Come on, we're friends aren't we?"

"You've barely said ten words to me until today."

"Well, friendships have to start somewhere."

"Like jumping in and accepting this duel on my behalf without asking me or having even spoken to me before hand?" Harry glared at the lanky red head as they reached the bottom of the dorm room stairs and started for the portrait hole. It was a half hour to midnight, and Harry was still trying to puzzle out just why he was going along with this.

"Er- sorry about that. I didn't think."

"Obviously." Harry finally gave in and heaved out a huge sigh. "Look I'm really not sure this is a great idea. I agree with you, in principal. It would be losing face and just encouraging Malfoy to cause more trouble to not show up for the duel. But I'm still not really sure about this." He reached out and pushed the portrait open and they clambered outside. They hadn't made it ten feet when a voice spoke up behind them.

"Harry James Potter, I know you're not going to meet Malfoy for that stupid duel."

"Told you," Harry muttered to Ron and turned slowly to face an obviously irate Hermione Granger. She was wearing a pink bathrobe and had her arms crossed over her chest, a disapproving glare leveled directly at him. "You heard Madam Pomfrey," she snapped. "Do you want to do yourself more damage? And if you two go sneaking around in the middle of the night you're going to get caught, and you're going to lose points for Gryffindor."

"Nobody asked you to stick your nose in it, Granger," Ron snapped. "Just go back to the common room and leave us alone."

"Hey!" Harry rounded on Ron. "I won't put up with that kind of shite from Malfoy and I really won't put up with it from you, Weasely. You say you want to be my friend? Well, you dont talk like that to my other friends, get me?" The look on his face told Ron that Harry was serious and he nodded dumbly, stammering an apology. "Don't tell me," Harry snapped and flung out his good arm to point toward Hermione, "I'm not the one you were just a total arse to. Tell her."

"Sorry, Hermione," he muttered.

She gave a disdainful sniff but didn't say anything else. Harry noticed though, that when her eyes turned to him her gaze was considerably softer.

Until he opened his mouth again and said, "that all being said, I do have to go, Hermione. You should get back to bed, no reason for you to lose anymore sleep."

 _And there's that angry glare again, h_ e thought as her eyes hardened.

"I have to, Hermione," he cut her off before she could get going. "You know how I feel about bullies."

She glared at him for a few moments longer while Ron fidgeted in place and kept glancing at his watch. Finally she let out an explosive sigh and nodded. "Fine," she muttered. "But I'm coming with you."

Before either of them could say anything she brushed past them and continued on her way down the corridor, heading in the direction of the trophy room. Ron and Harry hastened to catch up with her, neither of them wanting to risk saying anything that might set her off so they simply walked along in silence.

"What's that?" Hermione said a minute later, pointing to a dark lump almost hidden in a small alcove twenty feet from them.

Harry shrugged his good shoulder and carefully approached the alcove, giving the lump a nudge with the toe of his trainer when he was close enough. He jumped back when it suddenly burst into motion, unfolding itself into a person that scrambled to their feet, wand in hand.

"Neville?" Hermione exclaimed. "What are you doing out here?"

"Sweet Merlin, it's you guys. Thank you, I've been stuck out here for hours. I couldn't remember the password to the common room and the Fat Lady wouldn't let me in." He looked around nervously before he leaned in toward Harry. "The Bloody Baron has been by here twice tonight. Bloke gives me the creeps, lemme tell you."

"It's pig snout, Neville."

He groaned and thumped the heel of one hand against his forehead. "Thanks, Hermione. I can't believe I couldn't remember that."

"No worries, Nev. Look, we gotta get moving, we'll catch you later."

Neville looked back and forth between the three of them. "Duel with Malfoy?" he asked after a minute and Harry nodded. "I'm coming with. Where a Potter goes, a Longbottom stands beside him," he said when Harry opened his mouth to protest. "You're not leaving me behind."

#####

It was just shy of one in the morning, and the Gryffindor common room had been quiet for hours. The tables used for study where empty. As were the couches, sofas, and armchairs where student's would lounge or relax in the evenings or during a free period.

The quiet was broken abruptly as the portrait hole swung open and four bedraggled and sweaty students stumbled into the room, clambering through the portrait hole, breath coming fast and hard as if they'd just run a marathon. They threw themselves into several of the armchairs near the fire, shaking and panting. It was a while before any of them said anything, indeed, Harry felt that Neville might not speak again judging by the look of him.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" Ron said finally. "If there's any dog in the world that needs exercise, that one does."

"You don't use your eyes, do you," Hermione snapped. "Didn't any of you see what it was standing on?"

Harry considered that for a moment. Looking back at the very fresh memory of the massive three headed dog they had just fled from down the third floor corridor. The room had been large, of course, to accommodate the dog. But it had been bare of any kind of decoration or ornamentation. So what was she- "A trap door," he breathed after a minute. He could see the square outline of the door with a metal pull ring to use as a handle underneath one of the dog's massive paws in his minds eye. "It's guarding something."

"What could something like that be guarding in a school?" Neville asked. He had a pensive look on his face, bottom lip pinched between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand as he thought.

"What was it that Hagrid said? No place safer or more secure in the world than Gringotts, except for Hogwarts." Harry grinned at them. "I think we just found where the package that Hagrid took from vault seven hundred and thirteen was moved to."

"Well there's nothing we can do about it tonight," Ron said and climbed to his feet. He stretched, long arms reaching high toward the ceiling before dropping back to his side and he gave a huge yawn. "I'm knackered, heading to bed."

"You act as if it was our fault you were out late, Ronald," Hermione snapped waspishly. He didn't respond, already half way across the room and heading for the stairs.

"I'm heading up too," Neville said. "Thanks," he added, "for trusting me to come along."

"No worries Nev," Harry waved him away. "You're a good guy Neville. I'll always be proud to have you at my side." Neville nodded and moments later Harry and Hermione were alone in the common room.

The fire had burned down to mostly embers, casting a dim red glow over their corner of the room.

"Did you put the bruise salve on your shoulder?" she asked suddenly.

He winced and hesitantly shook his head.

"Robes and shirt," she demanded and headed for the stairs. When she got back, jar of bruise salve in hand, he was still fighting with his shirt. He didn't say anything when she moved closer and started helping him, and the lighting made it difficult to tell, but she was fairly sure he was blushing again.

"No shame, Harry," she whispered. He didn't react at all and just let her help with his shirt. In moments she had him stripped to his waist and she took the lid off the jar, taking a small amount of the salve on her fingers which she rubbed between her hands.

He sucked in a sharp breath when her hands touched him, back straightening sharply.

"Sorry."

He shook his head. "Didn't hurt," he muttered.

They fell silent again after that as she carefully rubbed the salve into his skin. His shoulder and part of his chest and upper back where a mass of deep purple bruises so dark they hid the fact that his entire right shoulder was one massive burn scar. She'd wanted to know how that one had happened for a long time but she was willing to wait until he was able to tell them about them.

After several minutes the salve warmed considerably under her hands, a sign the label on the jar had told her meant that the magic was absorbing into his skin and she was done. For some reason though, she didn't want to stop touching him so she just kept going, letting her fingers trace the rough bumps, dips, ridges, and valleys of the many, many scars that marked him.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, suddenly.

"For what?" she asked, her fingers ceasing in their movement across his skin.

"For being stubborn. For not listening. You were right, we shouldn't have gone."

"True. It would've been so easy to get caught, Harry." He nodded. "And with that dog." She paused and let out a huge sigh, tension seeming to drain out of her body before her hands started moving again. "We could've been killed," she said. "Or worse, expelled."

He tilted his head back so he could look up at her standing behind him. "Expelled is worse than killed?" he asked, a small smirk twitching around his mouth.

"What happens if you get expelled, Harry?"

He shrugged his good shoulder. "I'm kicked out of school, right?"

"And where would you go?"

"I guess I'd have to go back to the-" His mouth snapped shut, teeth clicking audibly together as all the blood drained from his face.

"Ssshhhhhh," she soothed. "Didn't happen, so don't worry about it now. And I'm sorry to bring it up, I really am. I just wanted to make sure you understood, Harry. It's much better if you stay here."

She glanced at the time and winced but patted his good shoulder and stepped back, screwing the lid tightly onto the jar. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, her lips soft against the scar above his eye, hair falling forward until both of their faces were hidden by a curtain of brown curls.

"Goodnight, Harry," she whispered.

Before he could react she straightened and disappeared up the stairs to the first year girls dorm.

"Goodnight, Hermione," he whispered to an empty room. He returned his eyes to the embers in the fireplace, his mind racing, filled with thoughts of the three young women that had crashed so suddenly into his solitary life.

It would be hours yet, before he finally found his bed.


	7. Halloween

**Authors note: And the Rotten Witter returns with another update.**

 **==Okay, I feel like a tool, but I had a scene at the beginning of the next chapter That I realized made for an awkward time skip AND worked way better tagging it onto the end of this chapter. Originally it WAS a part of this chapter but I moved it cause I wasn't happy with it and was still tweaking the scene itself. I'm much happier with it now but it still didn't work for Chapter 08, so apologies all, but it's here now. ==**

 **So, without much further ado…**

 **Sorry: Disclaimer! I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it!**

 **On with the show! Here be, Chapter 07 of Soul Scars.**

Soul Scars

By,

Rtnwriter

Amelia Bones sighed and dropped into the chair behind her desk. The stack of parchment awaiting her attention had grown overnight, she was certain of it. She glared balefully at the offense of parchment stacked neatly into a small wooden box marked 'in box', then turned her attention to the entirely empty 'out box' sitting next to it. For some unfathomable reason the formidable stack of parchment completely failed to spontaneously combust under her heated gaze.

It just wasn't fair.

She took a long sip of her tea, fortifying herself for the hard slog she had ahead of her, and just as she reached for the first piece of parchment on the stack an absolutely gorgeous, snowy white owl swooped out of the owl chute and into her office. With the Ministry's location underground, windows didn't exactly work, even with magic, so long chutes leading up to the surface had been installed decades previously, but only for the individual Department Heads.

Amelia eyed the owl, not recognizing it and the owl, in turn alighted on the small perch she kept at the far edge of her desk, tilting its head to look at her with one large golden eye.

' _ **Brek'**_ The owl barked and held out a leg to show the small scroll tightly rolled up and affixed to its leg.

"Something for me?" Amelia asked and she could swear the owl actually rolled its eyes.

' _ **Brek-cek brek'**_

Yep, the bird was definitely questioning her level of intelligence.

"All right, no need to get testy," Amelia said with a small smile as she stood and untied the scroll. Reaching into her desk she pulled out a couple of owl treats and set them in the small dish attached to the stand. With a tap of her wand on a second dish it became filled with water and the owl gratefully dipped its beak to drink as Amelia returned to her seat and unrolled her letter.

"Hmmm…" she hummed as her eyes skimmed the page. About half way down she paused and glanced at the owl. "Hedwig?" she asked and the bird lifted her head and fixed her with a piercing stare as only an owl was capable of. "So, you're Mister Potters familiar, eh?"

' _ **Brek!'**_ Hedwig nodded, bobbing her head up and down several times before returning her attention to the owl treats.

With another smile turning her lips and an almost irresistible urge to laugh bubbling up inside her at the animals antics, she returned her attention to the letter from her beloved niece.

"Susan says school is going well," she said, talking idly to the bird as she read. "She's enjoying her classes, except for Potions." She snorted at that. "No surprise there. Severus Snape is as unpleasant an individual as one is likely to meet," she muttered and Hedwig cocked her head to one side, listening closely to the auburn haired witch. "She's making friends at least. But you'd know all about that wouldn't you?" she added with a glance toward the bird. "You see her more often than I do."

Hedwig cocked her head the other way, but made no other motion.

"Harry, Hermione, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, Neville Longbottom, my… she certainly is building quite the diverse group…" She took another sip of her tea as her eyes scanned further down the page. "Fell off her broom!' she practically shrieked a few moments later and sat up, gripping the parchment with both hands as her eyes scanned rapidly across her nieces neat handwriting.

"Merlins wrinkled left testicle," she sighed. "Next time you're going to tell your only living relative you fell off a broom, you might want to precede that with 'I was saved and am completely unharmed', Susan," she muttered darkly to herself when her heart rate finally started to slow.

' _ **Brek!'**_

"Even Hedwig agrees with me," she burst out, as if her niece could actually hear her complaining. "Oh, she's going to owe Mister Potter a life debt now." She paused and her eyes turned thoughtful. "Does a Soul Bond cancel out life debts?" After a time she shrugged and kept reading.

Toward the very end of the letter, practically the last two paragraphs was the most pertinent information that Amelia Bones needed.

"Okay, so Harry got hurt a little bit saving Susan's life," Amelia muttered. "Had to go to the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey saw the scars… Shit." She jumped out of her chair, letting the letter fall to her desk as the last few paragraphs echoed in her mind.

"Carol!" she yelled as she ripped open the door to the outer office, startling her assistant at her desk outside. "Carol send a message to Child Services, if they get any missives regarding Harry Potter I want them to come see me, immediately. Take no other action and speak of it to nobody am I understood?"

"Yes, Director Bones. No one will be in though, it is a Sunday, after all."

"Right, no one will see it until tomorrow. Send a departmental memo, then, to the department head. Mark it 'urgent' so it's the first thing they see when they come in. And unless there's a catastrophic emergency, hold all interruptions for the next hour or so, I have some letters to write."

… _he was amazing on a broom, Auntie and I know he saved my life. We practically had to force him to go see Madam Pomfrey since he seemed so worried about anyone finding out about his scars that he wanted to just sleep off a dislocated shoulder!_

 _Daphne reminded him that Madam Pomfrey couldn't betray his privacy by talking about it to anyone though because of her Oaths…._

#####

The morning after their first flying lesson was both difficult and awkward for one Harry Potter. Difficult because after staying up so late the night before, thinking about the gentle kiss Hermione had placed on the scar above his eye, he really didn't want to wake up early.

The three hyperactive witches in his life would have none of that, though. Before nine o'clock they had bounded into the boys dorm and roused him out of bed, ignoring any moaning and groaning that he just wanted to get a little more sleep.

"How are you so wide awake after being up late last night?" he groaned to Hermione who just shrugged.

"You get used to it when you find yourself staying up late reading every night but still have to get up for school the next morning."

The awkward portion of his morning came when he joined them downstairs and he found Daphne and Susan standing near his chair by the fire, arms crossed over their chests with nearly identical glares leveled in his direction.

Hermione, standing nearby, had a look on her face that seemed a cross between apologetic and smug superiority.

"Et tu, Hermione?"

She shrugged and he sighed and made his way over to sit in the chair, resigned to his fate.

"What were you thinking?" Daphne demanded, a hard edge to her eyes and voice. "A duel with Malfoy in the middle of the night when _you can't use your wand arm?_ "

He fidgeted nervously. "Yeah, I didn't really-"

"And why would you even go to a duel you didn't _need_ to go to?" Susan snapped. Her deep blue eyes had never been filled with the cold anger her saw in them now.

"But didn't I… I mean… wait, what? Didn't need to go?"

"We told you it was probably just a ruse to try and get you in trouble. He was already so annoyed that you hadn't gotten into trouble from what happened during the class that he was just looking for some way to get you. You're playing into his hands."

Harry flinched and tried to shrink in on himself as he took in the very displeased expressions on Daphne and Susan's faces as they hemmed him into the armchair.

Susan's expression softened and she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand. The action caught Harry's attention for some reason, tickling at the back of his mind as if he should recognize it. When she started talking, though, he was distracted from the thought and lost the thread before he had a chance to tug on it.

"You know that was a stupid thing to do, right?" she asked.

He sighed and nodded, pushing his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I know," he said in a resigned tone. "But if Malfoy _had_ been there, I'd have been giving him something to lord over me, and then he would have been worse than ever. I didn't have any way to know for sure that it wasn't a legitimate challenge."

"No, he wouldn't have had anything to lord over you. And you would have known, if you'd asked us about it, we could have explained that. In fact, I'm surprised that Weasley or Neville didn't know better."

"What were they supposed to know?" he demanded, feeling more than a little foolish. Worse, he really couldn't blame someone else for it either. He might have been pressured into going by way of the red headed menace, but it had been his own decision. He had screwed up and that annoyed him more than just about anything at that moment.

"There are some very strict rules in both challenging and accepting a wizards duel. Malfoy isn't the Head of his House and that wasn't an honor duel, in no way would it have satisfied any of the rules so you could easily have told him where to shove it and would have lost nothing," Daphne explained.

Harry sighed and let his head fall back, eyes closing. "Isn't there a book somewhere that lays all this crap out simply and succinctly that I could read? I'm tired of getting tripped up by all these rules and things that I don't understand."

Daphne snorted. "That would make it simple wouldn't it. The pureblood bigots in charge would never let such a book get into circulation though. Doing so would make it too easy for muggle born witches and wizards to fit into society that they think should be kept on the fringes, or expelled from wizarding society entirely."

"Most of this is passed down through word of mouth and tutors within the pureblood families," Susan added. "People like Malfoy get all this explained to them from a very young age. So again, I'm surprised that Neville didn't know about it. Weasley might make a bit of sense since even though his family is pureblood, they don't stick to many of the old traditions like a lot of other families still do."

Hermione was scowling and muttering darkly under her breath but the other three focused on the discussion at hand. Hermione's, well deserved outrage at the blatant bigotry of wizarding society could wait, for now.

"Lesson learned," Harry muttered. "I'll make sure I get some better advice in the future on anything like this. And I'll have to find out why Neville didn't know about it. He might need to have his Gran check into the effectiveness of his tutors."

"Let's go look for him." Susan took Harry's hands in hers and pulled him to his feet. "He might still be at breakfast and either way, I'm hungry." The four of them made their way down to the Great Hall. A quick scan of the table showed Neville sitting near the middle and they made their way over, quickly seating themselves around their friend.

"Hey Nev, mind if I ask a question?" Harry asked as they all started filling plates with food.

"What's up, Harry?"

"Ummm… not to sound like I'm accusing, cause I'm not, but didn't you know that the duel last night wasn't legitimate?"

Neville set down his fork and thought about that for a moment. "Well… maybe? I thought it might not have really fit some of the rules but honestly I haven't been instructed much on those things. The focus has been more on the various Houses, political ties, alliances, and business." He flushed and shrugged. "Basically, since my whole family has always been convinced I'm just above being a squib they've ensured that all my instruction was on how to avoid ever getting myself into a situation where I might be called out into an Honor Duel. They figure if that ever happened I'd be doomed."

Harry grumbled while the girls all gave Neville sympathetic looks. "We'll show them that they're wrong about you, Nev. You have my word on that."

#####

For the rest of the week he had left on his bruise salve treatment they fell into a routine. They attended classes, did their homework in the library with a growing group of friends, and at night, after the common room was empty, Hermione would collect the jar of salve and silently rub it into his bruises which healed at an amazing rate.

It was a private moment for them. Daphne and Susan knew, of course, Hermione told them, but never once did either offer to take care of the salve one night. They would have their own moments with Harry, and it wouldn't do to try to push him. Love and affection were alien concepts to Harry Potter. It would take time, and they were young. They could afford to be patient.

On the following Monday morning during breakfast, Hedwig swooped in and landed in front of Harry, a letter tied carefully to her leg.

"What do you have there, girl?" he asked.

' _ **Brek'**_ , she barked.

"Yes, a letter, obviously. Who from?"

' _ **Kek cek brrrrek'**_. She turned and bobbed her head in Susan's direction before tilting her head back toward Harry.

"Susan's Aunt?" he asked. "Madam Bones sent this?"

' _ **Kek'**_ she nipped gently at his fingers and launched herself off the table, swooping around to land on his shoulder where she nipped at his ear and rubbed her head against his cheek.

"Auntie sent you a letter, Harry?" Susan asked, sounding as confused as he felt.

"Apparently. Let's see what she has to say." He opened the letter and unfolded it, eyes skimming quickly over the parchment as he read. His friends watched as several emotions flitted across his face. Surprise, confusion, anger. After several minutes he wordlessly held the letter out to Susan, his face settling into a thoughtful expression as he considered the contents of the letter.

 _Mister H Potter_

 _My name is Amelia Bones. I'm sure you are aware of who I am, since you are bonded to my niece, Susan. She wrote to me to inform me of the accident that happened on Saturday during your flying lessons. I would like to take this moment to formally thank you for your actions in saving my nieces life. She is my only remaining family and means the world to me. I really don't know what I would do if anything serious ever happened to her._

 _Knowing you were raised in the muggle world I'm willing to guess that you have never heard of a Wizarding Life Debt. It is a magical debt that occurs when one witch or wizard saves the life of another witch or wizard. The strength of the debt depends directly on the amount of personal danger the person doing the saving, (in this case you) is placed in while saving the others life (in this case, Susan)._

 _I will leave it to Susan to explain the full implications of this Life Debt and move on at this point since something else occurred that I feel you may not be aware of and I do not want you finding out about it from others._

 _Susan mentioned that you were seen in the hospital wing, and that the girls managed to convince you to go by mentioning that Poppy would be bound by her Healers Oath to keep your treatment at the hands of your relatives a secret. Unfortunately, this is not true. I do not believe that they knew this when encouraging you to visit so I would implore you not to be upset with them._

 _Yes, under normal circumstances, the Healers Oath would prevent her from discussing any part of your health with anyone without your express permission. However, as you are a minor, she is required to inform the Department of Child Services and my offices the Department of Magical Law Enforcement whenever a minor is discovered with obvious signs of being abused._

 _The specifics are not detailed, but she did have to send us notice so that an investigation could be launched. I can understand if this information distresses you as I'm sure you do not want your private life aired in front of strangers, but please, do not blame them, and be assured that I will be personally handling as much of this situation as possible, and I will also be requiring separate oaths of silence from the investigators that I assign to your case._

 _I regret that this decision, this choice, has been taken from you, but all I can do from my end is try to keep it as quiet as possible to avoid drawing further attention to you._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Madam Amelia Bones_

 _Head of the DMLE_

Susan grew thoughtful when she reached the part about the life debt. She hadn't honestly considered the fact that she owed Harry a debt and for a moment, part of her worried what he might request, but she reminded herself that after the treatment he had suffered, it was unlikely that Harry would demand anything untoward from someone else.

She and Daphne however both paled as they read the rest of the letter, Daphne leaning close to look over Susan's shoulder.

"Daphne?" Harry asked, his voice suddenly as cold as any they'd ever heard.

"I-I-I swear H-Harry. I didn't know. I th-thought that… I didn't know."

"I don't like being lied to," he growled.

"I didn't. I swear I didn't Harry. I didn't know that she would or had to contact someone."

"So you didn't leave that out on purpose and use the potions to convince me to go to the hospital wing?"

She winced but spoke, carefully, "yes, I used the potions to convince you to go. But you can't say I was wrong. You _needed_ to get your shoulder looked at and the potions are going to help you."

"I didn't need to get my shoulder looked at," he disagreed.

"Harry, it was dislocated!"

"Wouldn't be the first time," he repeated the words he'd said to Madam Pomfrey. "I've had to pop that shoulder back into place more than one time by myself. I could have done it on my own and nobody would have found out!"

The sudden increase of muttering around them had Harry looking around at the students sitting nearby. None of them were particularly close as, at that hour, the early risers were long gone, and those that enjoyed a lie in hadn't come down yet. There were only a few students present and most of them were too far away to really hear anything but it was obvious that Harry was upset, and it was obvious who he seemed to be upset with.

He pushed himself abruptly to his feet, ignoring the startled bark from Hedwig where she still rested on his shoulder and stalked his way out of the Great Hall, the girls scrambling on his heels. Neville scrambled after them, at once not feeling it was his place to butt in, but also not willing to leave his friend in his current state without at least offering his support.

Within minutes they, once again, found themselves in one of the many unused classrooms, the girls sitting together in three of the student desks while Harry paced the length of the room, irritation rolling off of him in waves. Neville stood by the door and Hedwig had already flown off, presumably to rest.

"Harry," Hermione finally said after several minutes of silence passed by them where he seemed to get no calmer, "please, could you try to calm down a little bit? I understand you're upset. I haven't seen the letter so I'm not sure exactly _why_ but we won't manage anything productive if you're so worked up."

He nodded but said nothing and continued to pace, taking long, deep breaths in an effort to calm himself down.

"I didn't want anyone to know," he ground out, eventually. "It's my problem."

"Harry, it's not!" Susan blurted out, aghast at the very idea. "It's not your responsibility to deal with this situation. It's the adults around you that should have dealt with it. If you would just speak up about it-"

"I DID!" he suddenly roared, rounding on them as his eyes flashed and the air around him stirred with power. "Do you honestly think I'm so stupid that I never told anybody? That I never even tried to escape? I did tell them. I told my teachers at school. I got in trouble for lying about an 'upstanding member of the community' and they sent messages back to my relatives and the… the beating I got after that was one of the worst! My entire life I've been taught two things. I'm a worthless freak that deserves everything they did to me and that I was ALONE. No one was going to help me! No one was going to believe me! No one was going to do a god damned fucking thing about the hell I lived with every fucking day!

"It _is_ my problem and it should have been my decision when and how to speak to someone about it! The teachers never tried to help me. No one ever listened to me. No one ever believed me. So tell me, honestly, what possible reason do I have to expect anything to be any different here?"

None of the girls were capable of answering him. All three had burst into tears during his ranting tirade and were simply struggling to rein themselves in as much as possible.

When the answer came it was from a completely surprising direction.

"But, Harry, don't you see?" Neville asked. "It already _has_ been different."

Harry spun, directing his gaze to the shy, timid friend that he saw standing proud and strong before him. Neville Longbottom didn't even flinch at the angry glare that was leveled in his direction. His friend was in trouble, and Neville would be damned if he didn't do something about it.

"What do you mean?"

Neville frowned, organizing his thoughts as quickly as he could. "Look, I'll admit I'm coming into the tail end of this conversation. I obviously don't have all the information here so let me try to make a few guesses first, okay?"

Harry nodded curtly.

"From what I'm hearing, it seems like your home life is pretty horrible. Bad enough that when Madam Pomfrey looked you over because of your dislocated shoulder she found physical signs of how you were treated."

Harry nodded again.

"And as soon as she discovered it, she informed the appropriate authorities so that the situation could be investigated and dealt with. Isn't that completely opposite of what you say happened before? If Madam Pomfrey had simply ignored it, wouldn't that be just what you expect based on your experience? The fact that she didn't just shows that this _is_ different. There are people actually on your side here, Harry. You've never had help before, it sounds like, well you've got help now. Do I have to say the damn motto, _again_?"

At that Harry couldn't help a small smirk.

"Where a Potter goes…"

"A Longbottom stands beside him," Neville finished. "You've got options, now. I can't begin to understand what you've been through or how you're feeling. I _can_ understand not being asked. I can understand not having a choice or having your decisions taken from you by the people in charge of you. But in this case, can you honestly say that you'd likely ever have said anything? It kind of seems like you've spent a long time keeping everything bottled up to yourself. It might just be time to let someone else in."

The longer Neville talked, the calmer Harry became as his mind analyzed his friends words and he realized that he was right. Things _were_ different. Had he just gotten so used to fighting on his own that he couldn't recognize help when it was offered? He glanced at the girls, still silently crying and closed his eyes as a pang of guilt shot through him.

 _Shite,_ he thought.

"Nev?" he asked, quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Can you give us a minute?"

"Take all the time you need."

When the door closed Harry took a deep breath and a hesitant step toward the girls. His mouth opened and closed a few times as he struggled to find the words he needed in this situation. Crying girls was never a good thing and he just had no idea what to say or do to deal with it.

"I'm s-"

Before he could finish he was suddenly swarmed as all three girls suddenly surged to their feet and their arms enveloped him as they sobbed against him. Hermione had slammed into his chest like a bushy haired missile, while Susan stood on his right side and Daphne took his left. His arms were pinned to his sides and his eyes grew wide and a little wild as all three clung to him.

It was a close thing. All he could do not to struggle violently against the arms encircling him. _I'm safe,_ he told himself. _They're not going to hurt me. They're not trying to trap me. They care about me and aren't going to hurt me. They care about me and aren't going to hurt me._ It became a mantra that he repeated over and over in his head as he waited for them to pull themselves together.

Eventually, they pulled back wiping their tears and taking deep cleansing breaths.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione whispered after a moment. "W-we know you don't like being touched. We just… after what you said about how you tried to tell someone… I honestly think we needed a hug more than you did right then." She chuckled weakly.

"I don't understand," he admitted, feeling a little foolish and more than a bit confused.

Susan sighed and sat back down at the desk she'd so recently vacated. "We worry about you, Harry. We're scared to hear about what you've been through, and at the same time we want to know. We want to understand you and be here for you. But… that doesn't make it easy to hear. Does that make any sense?"

Harry mutely shook his head and Daphne started giggling, somewhat uncontrollably.

"Don't worry about it, Harry. I'm not sure we entirely understand it either. Backing up a bit though..." She suddenly seemed far more nervous and hesitant to speak and he caught on pretty quickly to what he thought she might be trying to say.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I got so upset about Madam Pomfrey telling about what she found. It was… it was a shock, to think you'd lied to me just to manipulate me into doing what you wanted. I get it," he added, holding up a hand to stop her when she opened her mouth to protest. "I understand that you didn't know. Just like Neville didn't know about the rules surrounding honor duels. We don't have all the answers in the world. We're not always going to have all the information we need and all we can do is make the best decisions we can based on the information we do have.

"Getting me to talk to Madam Pomfrey about the potions was a good decision." He made a face. "And yes, I have had to pop my own shoulder back into place from time to time but you're right. I shouldn't do it, and I shouldn't have _had_ to do it in the past. I'm just…" he trailed off and shrugged.

"Self reliant."

They turned to look at Hermione, who suddenly flushed when she realized she'd spoken aloud. She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. "You're self reliant, Harry. You're used to doing for yourself. You've never had anyone to help you or support you. I get it. I've always been rather self reliant myself. The difference is I always knew that I had that support of my parents when I needed it. That's what you need to learn now. You need to learn that you do have people that want to support you. We want to. And, it's going to be tough, and probably painful in the months ahead of us… but this is a good thing. Steps are being taken to get you out of that house now, right?"

Susan nodded. "If Aunty is launching an investigation, you can be sure they'll find anything there is and you won't be spending any time there this summer if she has anything at all to say about it."

"So there. Two adults that are trying to help you."

Harry frowned. "Two?"

"Madam Bones, and Madam Pomfrey."

He nodded, and somewhere, deep inside, he started to feel a glimmer of something he'd almost forgotten existed. The hope, that things for him might actually one day improve.

#####

The day after Madam Pomfrey pronounced his shoulder healed a long, thin package arrived at their breakfast table, carried in by six great horned owls and by that evening Wood had him out on the Quidditch pitch, explaining the game to him and sending him darting back and forth across the sky on his new Nimbus 2000, chasing golf balls that his captain would throw for him to catch.

Harry didn't miss a single one of them.

For a few days after the letter from Madam Bones, things were a bit tense between him and the girls, but they were slowly able to put it behind them and continue forward with their friendship.

It must have been because he was so busy suddenly, what with Quidditch practice three nights a week on top of all the homework the professors were handing out, but Harry could hardly believe it when he realized he'd already been at Hogwarts for two months. The castle felt more like a home to him than Privet Drive ever had and even his lessons were becoming more and more interesting, firing his imagination and sparking a long held thirst for knowledge to even greater levels.

On Halloween morning the castle woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Harry had already been awake for hours though. After the duel trap Malfoy had set Harry had seriously considered the rate at which he was learning in his classes, and found that here, he had an entire branch of study tailored to help him with a problem he'd had all his life.

Namely, the fact that in the years he'd spent at Privet Drive, he hadn't the strength, or the skills to protect himself. Defense Against the Dark Arts offered him something he had never had. Safety. Security. So every morning, he woke early, hours before any of his dorm mates and he dressed quickly and made his way to a nearby empty classroom where he worked on curses, hexes, jinxes, and anything else he could find in his textbooks or through his efforts perusing the Hogwarts Library.

He stared at the book that morning, going over the newest curse he'd decided to learn. He figured early on that knowing dozens upon dozens of spells was actually possibly as much of a hindrance as a strength. If he hesitated, trying to decide which spell to use, that could get him hurt, or killed. But if he learned maybe a couple dozen, and learned them well so that using them became instinct, he would be able to react faster and even apply more power to his spells with ones he was intimately familiar with.

"Incantation: Reducto," he read, finger tracing over the page. "Wand movement is a clockwise twist of the wrist followed by a sharp jab in the direction of the target." He took his wand in hand and practiced the movement several times until he felt he had it down, then he turned and faced the far wall where he'd marked out a target with a piece of chalk to help with his aim.

Taking a deep breath he raised his wand, reaching deep for the well of magic he could always feel inside him and pushed it out down his arm and into his wand. "Reducto!" he spat, twisting his wrist and jabbing his wand sharply toward the wall.

There was a crackling, sizzling sound, and a dim bolt of red light erupted from the tip of his wand but it fizzled and faded out before it reached the wall. He frowned and tried again, and again, and again.

Finally on his sixth attempt the curse struck the wall, half a foot off from the center of the target and gave off a loud bang as a perhaps two centimeter divot was blasted out of the stones of the wall.

He tried again several more times until he was confident he had the curse down. "Only thing to do now is practice that," he muttered. He sighed, feeling a bit tired after two hours of casting spells and checked the time from a clock on the wall.

"Crap," he muttered and quickly gathered his book, tucking his wand into his robes before he bolted out of the room and ran for the tower. The portrait swung open and he climbed as quietly as he could into the common room, hoping he could get to his dorm, shower, change, and grab his books before anyone else came down.

"Harry?"

 _Shite._

"Hey Daphne," he muttered. She was sitting in one of the armchairs near the entrance, a book open on her lap, looking perfect and pristine, not a hair out of place or a wrinkle in her robes. There was something about Daphne that he couldn't wrap his head around. Save for those few moments when the three of them were discussing some of the heavier implications behind this bond they had with him, she always seemed somewhat aloof. Apart from him. Susan and Hermione were warm and affectionate. But Daphne seemed as cold as her eye color, holding him at arms length.

"What were you doing out at this time?" she asked. Her query didn't have the intensity that the same question would have had coming from Hermione. Their bushy haired friend was like a bull dog with a bone when there was a bit of knowledge to discover and she attacked it with a tenacity that was, at times, frightening. With Daphne, though her thirst for knowledge was no less, there was a more casual feeling to her query's and questions.

"Just out. I was reading," he held up the defense book he'd taken from the library. "I just didn't feel like sitting in the tower earlier."

"Hmmm… good morning, by the way."

"Good morning."

"You might want to hurry up and get ready. Hermione and Susan'll be down soon."

He gave her a smile and scurried past, rushing up the stairs to his dorm.

"Was that Harry?" Daphne looked up from where she'd just returned her attention back to her book to find Susan and Hermione standing near her, already dressed for class with their book bags over their shoulders.

"Yes. He was out, reading."

"Reading? He couldn't read here?" Hermione seemed confused.

"I did not ask for details. He just said he hadn't felt like sitting in the tower and was out, reading." Daphne tapped a finger against her lips as her eyes went to the ceiling in thought. "I did wonder why he was reading a fourth year defense text, but it is none of my business what he chooses to read in his free time."

Ten minutes later Harry came hurrying down the stairs, his hair still wet and his robes only half on as he tried to find his left sleeve, steady his book bag on his right shoulder, all while avoiding crashing into anything or tripping over his robes in his hurry.

Daphne sighed and set aside her book as she stood and approached him. He looked up, just as he shrugged his robes on and found himself facing that ice blue gaze that chilled and warmed him all at once.

"Really, Potter," she muttered as she waved her wand around him. "For the last scion of a Most Ancient and Noble house you really must take more care in your appearance. Appearance is everything to wizards." With a few cast spells his hair was dry, his rumpled robes were free of wrinkles and a few specks of lint had been banished away. She eyed him critically. "Best I can do," she said with another sigh. "That hair of yours I don't think will ever be anything but organized chaos."

He grinned. "Never been able to do a thing with it," he agreed. "And trust me, I've tried. Thank you Daphne."

She nodded and without a further word turned and picked up her bag and her book and swept her way out of the portrait hole. Her exchanged a look with Hermione and Susan and they shrugged, equally bemused by their bonded behavior.

"She's a bit… intense, isn't she?" Harry ventured as they were walking through the halls, Daphne some fifteen feet ahead of them.

"It'd have to do with her family," supplied Susan. "The Greengrass family has always been a neutral family. But from what I've heard her father is incredibly strict. Always expects perfection of those around him and I'm sure he would expect no less from his eldest daughter and heir to the family."

Harry considered that, stroking the scar behind his jaw with his right hand. "So she's always had really high expectations to live up to?"

"That'd be my guess."

He shrugged. "Well, we'll have to teach her the value of cutting loose now and then, won't we?"

They grinned but no further discussion was had as they reached the Gryffindor table and settled in to eat. Harry thanked Daphne as she handed him his morning potion and he uncorked the vial, downing it with a shudder and a look of revulsion on his face.

"That is truly foul," he muttered and chugged down a goblet of pumpkin juice in a vain attempt to wash the taste from his mouth.

"But it'll be worth it," Hermione assured him. "You're already starting to fill out some Harry." There was a light blush on her cheeks as she spoke but Harry didn't notice.

"I know. I just wish they could make them taste a little better."

Conversation around the table revolved around their upcoming Charms lesson. Professor Flitwick had informed them they would be learning the levitation charm that afternoon and excitement was the word of the day.

When the morning post came in Harry didn't look up. It was still a rare occurrence if something came for him, but a second later he noticed Hedwig come down and land in front of the plate on his left.

"Hedwig?" he asked, confused that she hadn't come to him. Some mornings she did, just to visit.

"She's got a response from Auntie," Susan said and Harry nodded as he remembered that he'd let Susan borrow Hedwig to send a letter to her Aunt the day before. After relieving the owl of her burden Hedwig hopped over to stand by Harry's plate and he gently stroked her feathers for a moment before handing her a piece of bacon which she gobbled up, greedily. After a dip of her beak into his goblet she gave him a short barking hoot and took to the air, quickly winging her way out of the window high up near the ceiling on her way to the owlrey.

Susan suddenly squealed and launched herself at Harry, who predictably stiffened up when her arms wrapped around him.

"She said yes!" she cried, practically bouncing in her seat.

"Yes to what?" he asked, bemused by her excitement.

Susan let go, suddenly looking nervous. "I-i asked my Aunt if you could come stay with us for the Christmas holidays," she said. "I know you were just planning on staying here so I figured it couldn't hut to ask. I didn't want to mention though unless she said no."

"That's amazing. I would love to. I've never celebrated Christmas before, do I need to bring anything or do anything?" His eyes were looking somewhere far away as he tried to remember everything he could about Christmas so he didn't notice the angry looks that passed over the three girls faces when he said that.

"Just yourself and a few changes of clothes, Harry. No one is expecting anything of you."

"But people give gifts at Christmas, right? I can't not bring anything."

"We'll do some shopping before the holidays," Susan assured him. "Aunt Amelia already said she'd be happy to take us to Diagon Alley so we can pick up presents." She leaned back and looked across Harry at Hermione, who quickly tried to hide a dejected look that had stolen onto her face. "You're invited too, Hermione. And you, of course, Daphne. You know my Aunt knows about," she stopped and looked around before lowering her voice, "about the bond, and she wouldn't dream of keeping us all apart from each other."

On their way to class Hermione pulled Susan aside and muttered, "I think we need to talk, just us girls."

Susan nodded, not entirely certain, but holding a sneaking suspicion as to the nature of the discussion they were going to have.

#####

Harry watched carefully as Professor Flitwick demonstrated the wand movement and then again when Hermione showed him, paying careful attention to the spells pronunciation. When he turned his attention to the feather sitting in front of him while the rest of the class continued to chant the incantation, waving their wands wildly, he focused his gaze on the feather, swished and flicked and carefully intoned the words to the spell, "wingardium leviosa."

The feather seemed to shiver for a moment but that was all.

He tried again. "Wingardium leviosa," he said and this time the feather jumped a centimeter or two before falling back to his desk.

Feeling bold by his partial success he drew himself up, focused on the magic he could feel inside him and pulled at it as hard as he could, pushing it down the length of his arm and into his wand which was practically humming in his grip as it seemed to eagerly soak up the power he was feeding it.

He didn't notice the three girls surrounding him gasp in unison and turn their eyes to him as he moved his wand. "Wingardium leviosa," he said, clearly and calmly and with a bang the feather shot into the air, straight up so fast that it literally buried itself into the stones of the ceiling above them where it quivered for a few moments before falling still.

The entire class fell silent, every eye now fixed on him and he blushed and shrank in on himself as if he were trying to hide.

"Well," Professor Flitwick squeaked, his eyes as wide as anyone else in the room. "Yes, very good, Mister Potter. Er, perhaps just a _bit_ too much power though?"

Harry blushed as half the class started to chuckle lightly. "Sorry, Professor," he muttered.

"Quite all right, young man, quite all right." Professor Flitwick waved his wand and another feather appeared on the desk in front of Harry. "Impressive bit of magic there. Let's try it again, shall we, just put a little less oomph into it this time." He smiled brightly at Harry who returned the grin and nodded. "And five points to Gryffindor, I think, Mister Potter for that impressive display."

"You're pronouncing the spell wrong, Weasley," Daphne was saying from Susan's other side on Harry's left. "It's winGARdium make the _gar_ nice and long."

Ron growled in frustration, glaring at the feather on his desk that had still yet to move. "You do it then," he snapped, "if you're so bloody smart."

Daphne sniffed and lifted her wand. "Wingardium leviosa," she said carefully and her her feather floated slowly into the air until it was hovering nearly three meters off of the ground.

"Excellent work, Miss Greengrass," Flitwick called out. "Ten more points to Gryffindor, well done." Daphne smiled, letting her feather drop back to her desk while Ron just scowled at her.

It was when they were walking down the stairs toward the great hall after class that it happened. Ron was in front with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan while Harry and Hermione stood behind them with Daphne and Susan further back.

"Honestly, she's a nightmare!" Ron was saying. "You know her whole families dark. Been in Slytherin for generations, the lot of them. I don't know how she got into Gryffindor but she should just slither her way down to the snake pit with the rest of the trash."

Harry heard a stifled sob and something brushed against his shoulder as a blond haired figure ran past and down the stairs. "Daphne!" he called out but she ignored him and kept running.

"I think she heard you," Dean muttered and Ron spluttered a bit before he felt a heavy hand suddenly land on his shoulder. He turned, just in time to see a pair of angry green eyes before a fist slammed into his jaw, sending him tumbling down the last four stairs to the landing. Harry might have still been under weight and lacking in muscle, but the punch still hurt the bigger boy.

"What the hell is your problem, Weasley?" Harry snarled. "Daphne is a good person, who's never done anything to you. You don't know the first thing about her but you just want to make assumptions because of her family? You're an idiot and she was just trying to help you in class today but instead of accepting that you just ignore her and insult her!"

Harry had rarely felt such anger before. A red haze descended over his eyes and he could feel the anger and magic welling up from somewhere deep within him and he didn't even try to shove it down as he normally would.

They'd drawn a crowd by that point, all of whom were staring, open mouthed at Harry as his robes and hair started to flutter and billow about him in a breeze centered exactly on him. The air felt charged, and a low buzzing and crackling sound filled their ears as raw magic crackled through the air.

"Harry," Hermione said, gently setting a hand on his shoulder as Susan did the same on his other side. "Calm down, he's not worth it." The look of loathing she directed toward the youngest Weasley was in complete counterpoint to the calming words and tone that she directed at Harry.

It took several seconds, but eventually Harrys robes and hair stopped fluttering and settled back down as the heavy feeling in the air receded and he turned to look at Hermione. He turned to his other side to look at Susan who just nodded and they started down the stairs. When they passed Ron who was still lying on the ground, clutching his jaw, Harry spoke again. "You keep talking about wanting to be my friend, Weasley," he snarled. "But I won't be friends with someone like you. Get your head out of your arse and apologize to Daphne and maybe we'll see what happens. But until then, you stay away from me and you stay away from my friends."

#####

"Where is she?" Harry muttered from his place at the table. The Great Hall had been decorated for the Halloween feast and he would have marveled at the giant floating jack o' lanterns and the swarms of live bats flitting about if he wasn't so worried about Daphne.

No one had seen her since she'd run off after Ron insulted her and he was getting worried. It'd been hours now. His eyes remained firmly fixed on the doors leading into the Great Hall and he scowled when Ron came into view. The red head took one look at Harry's angry face and scurried to the farthest end of the table he could get to, putting as much distance as possible between him and Harry Potter.

"Are you looking for Greengrass?"

Harry turned to find Lavender Brown standing behind him and nodded.

"I heard from Parvati that she was in the girls loo on the second floor. She's been in their crying all afternoon."

Harry immediately started to stand but Susan and Hermione both grabbed his arms and yanked him back into his seat.

"Leave her be, Harry. Sometimes a girl just needs some space."

"But we can't just leave her alone. The feast is about to start."

"When she wants our help, she'll come to us. I want to go check on her too but it could be best if we just leave her alone for now."

He didn't like it but he figured they knew the mind of a young girl better than he would so he grudgingly kept his seat. The feast was well underway and Harry was barely picking at the food on his plate, the taste of his potion still fresh in his mouth and worry gnawing at his gut the longer Daphne remained missing.

"I don't like this," he blurted out, dropping his fork onto his plate.

"I don't either, Harry, believe me," Hermione said with a sigh. "If she's not here in ten more minutes we'll go looking for her, okay?"

He nodded and glanced at her watch.

Just then the doors to the Great Hall burst open with a crash and Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the room his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table and gasped, "Troll- in the dungeons- thought you ought to know."

Then he fell in a dead faint.

The Great Hall erupted in frightened screams and chatter which took the Headmaster letting of a cannon blast from his wand to get them to quiet down.

"Prefects," he rumbled. "Lead your Houses back to your dormitories immediately while the staff and I investigate this matter." He turned and swept from the hall, the entire staff table following behind him.

As Percy Weasley, their fifth year prefect called for them all to follow him back to the tower Harry turned to Susan.

"How could a Troll even get into the castle? I thought this was the safest place in the world."

"I don't know," Susan fretted. "They're supposed to be really stupid."

Harry, Susan, and Hermione followed the rest of the house at the back of the crowd out of the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall but instead of following them up the stairs to their left Harry immediately turned and started toward the stairs on the right.

"Harry? Where are you going?"

"Daphne!" he said, shortly. "She won't know about the troll. I'm not leaving her out here on her own." He ignored Susans quiet curse and Hermiones admonishment of 'language!' and simply hurried up the steps, taking them two at a time.

The three of them hustled down the corridor for the second floor loo when Harry suddenly heard a low shuffling sound and a loud grunt. The troll came into view a few seconds after the horrific stench that preceded it and he pushed himself against the hall, snatching Susan and Hermione with them.

"SShhhhh," he hissed when Susan opened her mouth to scream and she clapped a hand over her mouth, muffling the noise just in time.

The troll was huge, easily twelve feet tall and extremely ugly. Tree trunk sized legs covered in thick grey skin led up to a massive torso with arms so long the almost reached the things knees. It's head was smaller than he expected, slightly misshapen and thick drool dripped from it's chin. It wore little but a loincloth of some kind and in one hand it was dragging a massive club that look like it had just ripped a tree out of the ground and torn off the branches.

Directly at the end of the hall stood a tall set of double doors which the creature immediately stepped through.

Harry stared after it, eyes wide. "Is that- is that the girls loo?" he asked weakly.

Before either of them could say anything a piercing scream came from inside the room and Harry was already moving.

There were a couple of loud crashes from inside the room, followed by more screams and then he was blowing past the double doors.

In the space between seconds he took in the scene. Daphne was huddled in the corner of the room beneath the row of sinks. The bank of stalls on one side of the room had already been destroyed as well as three of the six sinks. The troll had just lifted its club to smash the next one in the line.

"GET DAPHNE!" he roared, and, wand in hand, leapt onto the trolls back without even checking to see if Susan and Hermione had obeyed him. He landed in the middle of the things back, fingers and trainers scrabbling for purchase, but somehow he clambered his way up and managed to wrap his arms around its neck.

The Troll suddenly reared back, bellowing in pain as Harry's wand jabbed it in the eye. It reached back with one hand, trying to grab him as it lurched around the bathroom. Harry hung on for dear life as he was tossed side to side, legs swinging wildly by the beasts lumbering movements.

Eventually it managed to grab the backs of his robes and yanked him around so that he hung upside down in its grip as it lifted him to eye level.

He jabbed his wand at it and bellowed, "Reducto!"

"Harry!" Hermione screamed. The spell shot from his wand and impacted against the Trolls shoulder but it simply erupted with a loud bang and a puff of smoke, leaving almost no damage.

"Harry, Troll's are incredibly resistant to magic. Spells won't get through that things skin!"

 _Shite,_ he thought as it lifted the club in its other hand and swung it. He swung his body into an awkward sort of situp, letting the club pass under him before falling back to dangle like a piece of bait on a hook. _Now what do I do?_

Twice more the creature swung its club and each time Harry dodged as best he could as the girls started grabbing chunks of masonry and pieces of pipe, throwing them at the back of the beasts head, shouting all the while. Nothing worked. The beast was not to be distracted from its intent of killing Harry and it roared so loudly he thought his ears were going to bleed.

There, hanging upside down in front of its face as its rancid breath washed over him Harry got an idea. He only prayed it would work before the thing killed him.

He pointed his wand, gathering in power as he had in class, pulling hard at that core of energy he'd learned to feel in his gut and shoved it down his arm, desperately willed it into his wand.

He twisted his wrist and jabbed with his wand and bellowed, " **REDUCTO!"**

The bright red curse that shot from his wand was easily half the size of a quaffel and it covered the distance between them in an instant, vanishing right into the Trolls mouth. Its jaw snapped shut and an instant later there was a muffled explosion as its head erupted, splattering blood, skin, bone, and brain matter all around the room.

The hand went limp and Harry fell, exhausted to the soaking wet floor. A moment later the troll toppled forward, landing with a resounding crash right on top of him and all he knew for several minutes was pain.

The next thing Harry knew, there were hands on him. Two hands under his arms dragging him across the floor as three different voices babbled his name repeatedly.

"Wha-"

"Oh my God, Harry! Are you ok?" Hermione.

"'Mione?" he mumbled.

"Yes, Harry it's me."

"Where's D-Daphne 'nd S'san?" he whispered. He felt like crap. His whole body hurt. His arms and legs felt like lead weights attached to his torso and he could barely force his eyes open. When he did everything was a blurred mess even though he could tell he was still wearing his glasses.

Ice blue eyes swam into focus, filled with tears and worry.

"D'nt cry," he mumbled. "You… kay?"

"I'm fine, Harry. Merlins beard, I'm fine. What were you thinking you idiot?"

"Couldn'… let i-it h-h-hurt you," he groaned and coughed as a stab of pain shot through his chest. He reached out and tapped her chest, right over her heart. "… S-s-soul…" Talking was getting hard, he decided.

"What in Morgana's name is going on in here?"

"Hi p'rfesr!" Harry called and weakly lifted one arm. Yeah, Harry remembered that he liked Professor McGonagall. She was strict, but fair and relatively nice.

"Mister Potter?!"

"Professor McGonagall-"

"- It was huge and rampaging and-"

"- He just jumped on it-"

"- Swinging its club around."

All three girls started babbling at the same time, each trying to explain what happened and Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Snape couldn't make heads or tails out of what they were saying.

"QUIET!" she bellowed and they instantly fell silent. "Miss Granger, could you please, calmly, explain what is going on here?"

"We were in the Great Hall at the feast and when we heard about the Troll we knew that Daphne wouldn't know about it so we came to get her. Well, Harry did, Susan and I just followed him to try and help, if we could."

"And why, exactly, was Miss Greengrass not at the feast?"

"Weasel," Harry muttered, darkly, though no one listened to him.

"Ron Weasley said some pretty mean things as we were leaving class earlier about Daphne and she heard him."

"I've been in here all afternoon, feeling sorry for myself," Daphne admitted in a quiet voice. Harry reached out blindly for her hand and a moment later felt someone grip his hand in theirs. He hoped it was Daphne.

"Then what happened?" Professor Flitwick asked.

"We had just gotten to the hall outside when we saw the Troll. Harry pulled me and Susan against the wall to hide and it walked in here. As soon as Harry figured out this was the loo where we heard Daphne was hiding he started running. He ran right in here and jumped on the trolls back."

"Idiot boy, what did he think he was going to do against a fully grown mountain Troll?" Snape snapped. Mentally, Harry chuckled. _Snape snapped,_ he thought. _That's funny._

"Well, he killed it, didn't he?" Susan shot back.

"How, exactly did he do that?" McGonagall asked. "For a first year student to kill a Troll like tha- great Merlin, its head is gone?!"

"No, it's actually all around us, Professor," Hermione corrected her, sounding rather disgusted. "It was holding him upside down by his robes and he shot off a spell. I don't know what but it was red and went right inside the Trolls mouth and, boom."

"Did you hear the spell Mister Potter used?"

"It sounded like he said 'Reducto,'"

"That is impossible, Miss Granger. The blasting curse is a fourth year spell. There is no way he cast it."

"Check his wand. Ask him when he's better, I don't care, but are you, the teachers in charge of our safety just going to leave him lying here on the floor?" Daphne suddenly snapped. "He's hurt, dammit. When the things head blew up it dropped him then the body fell on top of him. We'd just barely dragged him out from under it when you came in."

Whatever else happened, or was said, Harry couldn't say because it was at that point that blackness overtook him and he descended, blissfully, into oblivion.

#####

When next Harry was able to open his eyes it was with a pained groan and the realization that he was in the hospital wing. Again. Madam Pomfrey was going to kill him.

His mouth felt like the sahara desert in summer. His head was pounding. His limbs still felt weak and useless and sharp stabbing pains ran up and down his left leg and the left side of his chest. Something was wrapped around his left forearm that he couldn't identify.

"…Ter," he choked out.

"Harry? You're awake! Susan, run and grab Madam Pomfrey. Harry's awake."

"'Mione," he mumbled. "Wa-water."

Moments later he felt a straw against his lips and gratefully drank. Cool water flowed into his mouth, quelling the thirst and soothing his throat.

"Where're my g-glasses?"

"Here, Potter." Internally he winced. When he was hurt Daphne had spoken his name with warmth and affection in her voice. Now it looked like they were back to the cool indifferent Daphne. He accepted his glasses and clumsily managed to slip them onto his face with a bit of help.

Before she could pull away he took hold of her cool hand in his and squeezed it gently.

"I'm so glad you're okay," he whispered.

She bit her lip, icy gaze looking lost and confused, but she nodded and gently took her hand back. He felt a sudden sense of loss without it.

"Mister Potter!"

"Hey, Poppy," he greeted the mothering mediwitch. "I'm really sorry to drop in on you like this on such short notice, but I just couldn't keep away from you."

"You're going to be the death of me, Mister Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, a disapproving frown on her face despite the way her lips twitched as if she wanted to smile. Behind her he could hear at least one of the girls snickering quietly. "I thought I told you that I didn't want to see you in here again." She took out her wand and started casting diagnostic spells.

"Well, I'm half way through my potions regimen and I really wanted to show off how well they've been working. Not even recognizable from that skinny kid that came in here with a busted shoulder, eh?"

"If only you were as adept at avoiding trouble as you are skilled at understatement, perhaps you might not be lying here again. It is heartening to see how well the potions have been helping you, but I would recommend not letting a mountain Troll land on you the next time you find yourself with the irresistible urge to do battle with one."

He weakly attempted to snap the fingers on his right hand. "I knew I was forgetting something. Dodge after you fell the giant beast, good tip."

"Indeed. Well, it looks like the potions I managed to get into you have been doing their work just fine. You had six broken ribs, a fractured femur, bruised appendix and pancreas, and you were suffering from magical exhaustion."

"What's that last one on the grocery list?"

Someone behind the mediwitch snorted again and he did his best not to smile as Madam Pomfrey gave him another disapproving frown. "Just what it sounds like, Mister Potter. Magic is like a muscle. The more you use it, the stronger it is, but like any muscle you can overuse it and exhaust the reserves of power you have available."

"So I'm not going to be happy with life for a few days, is what you're saying?"

She snorted, doing her best to hold in a laugh. "No, Mister Potter, I dare say you will not. But," she added the last with a raised finger to emphasize her point, "you will recover just fine given some time and rest. I think I'll be keeping you here until tomorrow evening at the earliest but you should be well enough to attend dinner in the Great Hall. I don't want you taxing your magic for a few days though. Let it return on its own before you stress your core too much. Am I understood Mister Potter?"

He gave her a sloppy salute. Glancing down he frowned at his bare torso, only partially covered by a few bandages soaked in potion that were working on healing his fractured ribs.

"Who has been in to see me, Madam Pomfrey?" he asked and she patted his shoulder with a sympathetic look.

"Just myself and the young ladies here. Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster wanted to speak with you as soon as you were awake though." She leaned closer and whispered to him, "I have wrapped your left arm in bandages. I'm the only one that has seen that scar at the moment."

He nodded, gratefully, but still frowned at his current state of dress. "Would you happen to have something with long sleeves?" he asked.

"I'm afraid not, Mister Potter. I'm sorry."

Harry sighed and let his head fall back onto his pillow. "Might as well get this over with. Are they nearby?"

"I will send them a message right now." She turned to the girls standing nearby. "You three," she said, sharply. "You may stay, but you will give space when the Headmaster and Professor arrive and after they leave you have until curfew but you must not get Mister Potter wound up. He needs to rest. So I will kick you all out of here if I think you are being disruptive to that. Am I understood?"

All three girls nodded rapidly until she gave a little 'humph' and bustled off toward her office.

"Harry James Potter what were you _thinking?_ " Hermione growled at him. "Jumping on the Troll's back?"

"It was the first thing to come to mind. I'd have stabbed it in the eye if I'd had a knife on hand. Jabbing it with my wand seemed the next best thing."

Hermione looked like couldn't decide whether she wanted to strangle him or kiss him. Eventually she settled on giving him a gentle hug for several long seconds before she sat up and moved away, only to be replaced by Susan.

"Thank you for saving her," Susan whispered. "She's as much a part of us now as she is you and I don't think we could have survived losing her."

Harry didn't really know what to say to that, even though half of it was lost in the haze of panic that always gripped him whenever one of the girls hugged him.

Susan moved away and took her seat on Hermione's right while Daphne moved around and sat on Hermione's left. For a brief moment Daphne leaned forward and whispered quickly in Harry's ear. Hermione and Susan looked on, confusion evident in their expressions but said nothing. Daphne sat back, quickly enough, but neither she or Harry looked like they were going to share what she'd said.

A moment later the doors to the hospital wing opened and all three girls stiffened when a flash of emotion tore through them and faded so fast they hadn't had the opportunity to even place a name to it.

"Ah, Mister Potter, so good of you to rejoin the land of the living," Professor Dumbledore said as he and McGonagall rounded the privacy screens around Harry's bed. "I trust you are none the…" His voice trailed off and though she made no sound McGonagall's mouth dropped open in shock when they finally laid eyes on him.

Despite the good that Harry's potions had been doing for his body he was still far too thin, though you couldn't count each individual rib anymore and the hollows around his collar bones were far less pronounced. It was the scars that stood out so sharply against his skin that drew them up short.

"Mister Potter," McGonagall breathed. "Merlin, child, what… _who_ did this?" Shock had given way to anger and the last few words of her question were delivered in nearly a snarl.

"I would have thought it was pretty obvious, Professor," Harry said with a glance at his bandaged ribs. "There was this Troll, see? And like an idiot I went and charged in without thinking. Honestly, I think I got off pretty lightly compared to the Troll." Susan hid a grin behind her hand while Hermione looked scandalized that he would speak to a Professor in such an irreverent way.

"I did not mean your obvious injuries," McGonagall said with a disapproving glare on her face. "I meant those scars."

"I know what you meant Professor. However I fail to see how it is any business of yours. None of them happened here at Hogwarts and therefore have absolutely no bearing on my education." _Thank you Daphne,_ he thought.

McGonagall looked like she wanted to disagree, loudly, but Dumbledore cut her off.

"Quite, right, Harry. Quite right. We shall not pry, but please, know that you may come speak to us, or any other professor at this school at any time if you have questions or concerns and they need not be limited to strictly academic reasons."

Harry nodded but didn't say anything.

"Now, we have already heard the story from the lovely young ladies here, but would you be so kind as to give us you recollection of the events that occurred tonight?"

Harry did. He spent a few minutes talking, explaining what happened after charms earlier in the day and his reasoning that Daphne would need to be told about the Troll.

"Why did you not ask a prefect or a teacher?" McGonagall asked.

"All the teachers had left with the Headmaster and the prefects were busy. They had an entire house of students to deal with, I didn't think they'd be able or willing to react quickly." He shrugged and winced when it cause a twinge in his ribs. "Anyway, after dangling around like a piece of bait on a hook for a bit I managed to get off a spell and I think you saw the results. Worked better than I expected it to, honestly."

"What exactly did you do?"

"Well, as I understand it, their skin is armored and resistant to magic. But _inside_ might not be the same way. So when it was yelling at me I shot the spell into its open mouth."

Dumbledore and McGonagall both blinked, surprised by his answer. "That," the Headmaster said, slowly, "is actually a rather brilliant deduction. And well executed plan under rather stressful circumstances. I must say that I am rather impressed with your ingenuity. If I may ask, what spell did you use?"

"The Reducto curse, Professor."

"I find it interesting that you even knew such a spell, much less that you successfully cast it with such results."

"Why is that, Sir?" Harry asked.

"Well it _is_ a fourth year spell."

Harry shrugged. "I thought it'd be a good idea to read ahead," he muttered.

"Indeed, studying ahead is a good idea, Mister Potter. I am simply curious as to why that particular spell is in your repertoire."

Harry fidgeted nervously for a moment before sighing and muttering something under his breath that no one was able to hear.

"Mister Potter?" McGonagall asked.

"I'm not strong," he bit out. "I'm not strong and I'm always surrounded by people bigger and stronger than I am." He was absently rubbing several of the scars on his right arm as he spoke, his eyes far away. "I figured it was in my best interests to learn spells I could use to defend myself."

"Might I ask what other spells have been added to your arsenal, Mister Potter?"

Harry thought for a second before answering, "uhhh… incarcerous, stupefy, incendio, conflagranto, expeliarmus, bombarda, confringo, difindo, and I've been working on the summoning charm but haven't quite gotten that one down yet."

"At least half of those spells, if used against another person, could deal significant injury," Dumbledore said with a disappointed tone to his voice. "Possibly even death."

Harry snorted. "That was kind of the idea. I stuck mostly to spells that could deal out wide area or exorbitant individual damage whenever possible."

"This, I must say, concerns me."

"Why?"

"It is a potentially dark path you find yourself walking, Mister Potter." Dumbledore sighed and folded his hands in his lap. "Seeking revenge is never a good thing."

"Learning to defend myself isn't about revenge, Professor. I just know that in a fight, treating your opponent with kid gloves is an easy way to get killed. Best thing to do is drop them hard and fast so they can't get back up and attack you again."

"True, as much as it pains me to admit that. I believe we are missing the point here, though. I am not so much surprised by your studying ahead," he said, "more that you are _capable_ of casting that particular spell at your age.

"You see, there is a reason the curriculum is laid out the way it is. The reducto is a handy spell to have, and for an adult which or wizard uses surprisingly little power. For one your age, however, it usually takes quite a bit of power to cast. I am surprised to find you possess the power needed to cast it so well."

Harry simply shrugged again. He didn't really know what to say to that. The spell hadn't seemed all that difficult to him to be honest.

"Well I think we will leave you for tonight. Professor McGonagall wanted some adjustments to the house points for your actions in not seeking out a teacher or prefect, but I believe the injuries you have sustained should suffice as punishment." He stood and vanished his chair with a negligent wave of one hand. "Have a restful evening, Mister Potter."

With that, the two turned and left, leaving Harry, once again, at the tender mercies of the girls with him.

"You're an idiot, Potter," Daphne snapped without preamble. "I'm grateful you saved me, but you could have gotten yourself killed."

"Why do you do that?" he asked, too tired for his normal brain to mouth filter to function properly.

Daphne blinked, taken aback by his response.

"Do what?" she asked.

"You call me Potter. You don't say Harry except for a few times, and usually under stress. Only the teachers and people that hate me call me Potter."

The heel of Susans' hand made contact with her forehead as she cursed under her breath causing Harry and Hermione both to shift their focus in her direction.

She grinned, sheepishly, and shrugged. "I'm sorry," she said, "we keep forgetting how much you still have to learn about wizarding culture."

"Of course." Harry looked back at Daphne. "Potter, Hermione," she said, "in our culture it is considered rude to address someone by their first name unless that person has specifically invited you to do so."

Harry frowned as he thought that over.

"Wait, so you've been holding me at arms length because you thought I wanted you to?"

Daphne shrugged. "On the train, Susan says you asked her, Longbottom, Hermione, and Abbot to call you Harry. You never gave me that permission." She shifted nervously in her seat. "I thought you didn't like me as much. That you didn't want me to know you as Harry."

"Daphne," he started before pausing and thinking back through his memories. He couldn't remember if she'd ever said that he could use her first name so he shifted tack. "May I call you Daphne?" he asked and smiled when she nodded emphatically. "Daphne, this has obviously been a misunderstanding. In the muggle world, not by any real rule or anything, more often than not if someone uses your surname it's usually a sign that they're above you in some way like your boss or a teacher or something, or it's a sign of hostility. Bullies do that. Malfoy does it and he's a right berk. I always figure when people just use my last name that way they're hacked off at me about something or just don't like me."

She considered that information for a moment. "So we have each been looking at things from a completely opposite perspective here."

Harry nodded. "Please, Daphne. Call me Harry. I've been all this time thinking you didn't like me much cause you kept calling me Potter like Malfoy does."

Daphne gave him a small smile. "Looks like Susan and I will need to join Neville in giving you and Hermione more comprehensive lessons on wizarding culture. This is twice that a simple misunderstanding that could have been corrected has made life more difficult." He was grateful that she didn't come right out and mention the duel debacle, as he'd come to think of it.

"All right, ladies. Visiting hours are over," Madam Pomfrey said as she came around the privacy screens. "You can come visit Mister Potter again tomorrow morning. I assure you he will be perfectly safe under my care."

The girls all muttered a thank you to the mediwitch and each gave harry a careful hug before saying goodnight and making their way out of the hospital wing.

"You have some truly devoted friends with those three, Mister Potter," Madam Pomfrey pointed out as she was casting a few diagnostic spells over him.

"Not really sure how that happened. Something with this bond that I don't understand. Not that I really understand any of it, but they all seem to know more about it than I do and they seem to worry about me."

"They care about you."

"They don't know me."

"They don't need to. They're getting to know you and I can only imagine, from what I've seen of you thus far, they will only come to care more and more as time goes on."

He shrugged, his attention on the wall across from him. She handed him several potions to swallow, which he did, reluctantly.

"Rest well, Mister Potter. You will feel much better in the morning."

She gathered her materials together and started to walk away but a quiet call from Harry stopped her, "Madam Pomfrey?" he asked.

"Yes, Mister Potter?"

"Sorry for calling you Poppy, earlier. I've been told that's rude without permission, and you're the adult here, I shouldn't have done that."

"We'll let it slide, this time, Mister Potter."

"Madam Pomfrey?" he called again.

"Yes, Mister Potter?"

"Please, call me Harry?"

She smiled even though she knew he wouldn't be able to see her through the privacy screens.

"Goodnight, Harry."

"G'night, Madam Pomfrey."

#####

"I told you!" McGonagall practically screeched as the door to the headmasters office swung closed. "I told you they were the worst sort of muggles you could ever hope to find! But would you listen to me? NO! Albus bleed'n Dumbledore is always right about everything. No one else could possibly have a thought or any idea better than Albus Dumbledore."

Her rant wound down as she glared at the aged Wizard where he sat behind his desk.

"I had no idea," he muttered, hardly listening to his deputy. "When I met with Miss Granger and her parents, I didn't know who it was."

"What are you rambling about, Albus?" she snapped.

Albus Dumbledore blinked, as if coming out of a daze, and turned his tired blue eyes to look at Minerva.

"If you'll remember, on the first, when we spoke to the four of them I mentioned to Miss Granger that we had met before?"

"Yes, she commented that you explained the Soul Bond to her and her parents, as well as her being a witch."

"Well, it was the scars that got their attention to begin with. There was nothing to be done, though, without knowing _who_ she was bonded to, there was no way to save the boy from where he was living."

"The…" she trailed off as her mouth dropped open. They had held several conversations since September 1st, where she had grilled Dumbledore for all the information she could on this bond and what it meant for her cubs. "You mean the Soul Scar Phenomenon? It's real?"

"Indeed it is."

"And Miss Granger shares all of those scars we just saw on Mister Potter?"

He simply nodded. "I imagine that Miss Bones and Miss Greengrass also wear the same scars."

"Sweet Morgana save them," she whimpered as she sagged into one of the chairs in the large office. "Albus, it's your fault that boy was put through what he's suffered the last ten years," she snarled. "Mine too, for not fighting you harder the night you left him there. You _are_ getting him out of there, aren't you?"

"Absolutely, I am. I have already spoken with Madam Bones about looking into what we can do. Madam Pomfrey also wrote a letter to her and to the Department of Child Services after she discovered the scars when she was treating him for the dislocated shoulder he suffered during their first flying lesson. She informed me as we were leaving this evening."

"Shouldn't there have been some results by now? It's been over a month since that lesson."

"Normally, there would be, but Madam Bones wishes to pursue this investigation slowly and carefully. She doesn't want it to become public knowledge how he has been treated at the hands of his muggle relatives for fear of inciting the conservative bigots in our society. Also, once it becomes known that he is in need of a new guardian you know as well as I do that there is going to be a veritable feeding frenzy of families wishing to take him in."

"He should never have been there in the first place," she pointed out.

"And that, to my great shame, is entirely my failure. I was so positive that his Aunt, his mothers sister, would love and care for him as if he were her own. You know as well as I that Lily would have taken in her nephew without a moments hesitation had the situation been reversed."

Minerva smiled at that, something that frequently happened when she thought of the Potters. "True. But you have to remember that Lily was one of a kind and a truly compassionate individual. Not everyone in the world is as kind hearted as Lily Potter was."

"We are going to do everything we can to change his living arrangements, and ensure that he is with a family that will offer the correct care and support that he will need. My only concern is the extra reading Mister Potter has been doing…"

"What concern is there? Considering what he's obviously suffered through I find the measures he's been taking to learn ahead to be a simple matter of common sense being exercised for once, as it seems to be such a rare commodity in our society these days."

Albus didn't smile at the small joke, nor did the twinkle in his eye return as he sat, staring morosely at his desk. "It is the nature of the spells that he has chosen. So many spells capable of causing significant damage. I am reminded of another young orphan that was a student at this school, a long time ago. Since Mister Potter joined us here two months ago I have taken a long, hard look at many of my actions in the past and I am seeing some startling, and frankly, disturbing, parallels between these two students."

"And?"

"And, one of those students grew up to become known as Lord Voldemort." McGonagall flinched at the name and one hand flew to her mouth, her fingers trembling. "I don't intend to continue making the same mistakes that I made fifty years ago, Minerva."

"Will this investigation be completed any time in the near future?"

"Worry not, I have been assured that Mister Potter will not set foot at the home of his relatives ever again. Amelia is quietly making sure of that."

"Good." She took a deep breath and stood. She straightened her robes and turned for the door but paused, just before stepping through. "It's been commented many times already by other members of the staff how much Harry looks like his father," she said. "I see a lot of Lily in him, though. For both your sakes, I hope he hasn't inherited Lily Potter's temper."

"Why is that?" he wondered.

She turned slightly so she could look at him out of the corner of one eye. "Because one day, that boy is going to learn that it was you that left him to ten years of pain and suffering. And with the spells he's been learning, coupled with his mother's temper… I don't imagine it will be a good day to be Albus Dumbledore."

With that, she left the office and closed the door behind her without another word.

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, leaned back in his chair and contemplated the mistakes that had led him to fearing the wrath of an eleven-year-old boy, even as he knew he deserved whatever hatred may one day be directed at him.

#####

"You wanted to talk?"

Hermione looked to her right at Susan as the thee of them made their way to Gryffindor Tower with a blank look on her face.

"Right after breakfast, you said us girls needed to have a chat.

"Oh! Right." She paused and gathered her thoughts for a moment before diving in. "I think we need to try to understand a few things. And, honestly, I'm not sure how ready Harry would be for most of the discussion."

"There are any number of possible topics that would fall under that category, Hermione," Daphne said with an amused smirk twitching the corners of her lips. "You'll have to be a little more specific."

"Christmas Holidays."

"That's specific."

"Thought you'd appreciate that." Hermione couldn't prevent a smirk of her own but quickly turned her attention to a contrite Susan. "Don't even, Bones," she snapped, leveling a finger at the other girl. "No feeling bad for inviting Harry to spend the holidays with you. I had every intention of doing the same, I just hadn't written to my parents yet so you don't get to feel bad about it. Especially since Daphne and I are invited as well, it's not like you're trying to keep Harry to yourself."

Susan gave her a timid smile and nodded, accepting the rebuke in the manner it was intended.

"But that's part of the point here that I think we need to hash out between us. We all want to spend time with him. But we can't fight over him, and we can't treat him like property that we're sharing with each other either."

"What do you suggest we do then?"

Hermione wasn't entirely sure. She chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip as she considered the situation.

"Well one thing we can't do is keep score. No, 'Susan spent more time with him yesterday than I did', or anything like that. I know you two accepted me helping with the bruise salve when he hurt his shoulder and I appreciate that. That's the kind of thing we're going to have to keep up. Accepting that there will be times that one of us will be alone with him and understanding that we're not trying to steal him away or anything. Looks like we're going to have to just keep a really honest communication with each other and do our best not to treat Harry any differently."

"You realize we're going to fall in love with that boy one day," Daphne pointed out in a dry tone.

Hermione sighed and rubbed a hand across her face. "Yeah, pretty much doomed the second I laid eyes on him. And I'm sure he'll feel the same way, but he just doesn't _understand_ it. Yet. I bet he couldn't even identify most emotions by name. And how's he going to react when he realizes he could have all three of us?

"Hell, I'm not sure how _I_ feel about it. I've never considered sharing a boyfriend with someone else and with this bond our feelings are even murkier. I mean… I keep thinking I should be threatened by or jealous of the two of you, but I'm not." Daphne and Susan nodded, silently agreeing with her.

"I haven't felt the slightest bit of jealousy either," Susan admitted. "I feel just as close to the two of you as I do to Harry."

"What does that mean though?" Daphne asked. "Is it all because of the bond or what?"

"Hermione shrugged and leaned slightly to her left, bumping Daphne with her shoulder. "I haven't the foggiest," she admitted. "But it's a good thing, I guess, right? Less likelihood of us acting like jealous idiots around him?"

Daphne and Susan nodded again.

"Anyway, it doesn't really matter too much right now. Before we can figure out anything else, he needs to heal and that could take a while. I'm beginning to think that he might be even more damaged than I'd thought before." As she talked Hermione seemed to droop as a heavy sadness settled over her.

Susan stepped closer and wrapped one arm around Hermiones shoulder as they walked. "How do you mean," she asked.

Hermione sighed and subtly leaned against the other girl. "Well he obviously doesn't have much faith in or trust for adults or authority figures. Not saying he should just trust them blindly, but he's going to need some kind of parental figure to go to for advice and help sometimes."

"Hopefully he'll get that when they get him away from the Dursley's," Daphne pointed out.

"But it's his psychological state I'm most concerned about. His body can and will heal, sooner rather than later. But his mind is a different concern."

Daphne and Susan exchanged a look over Hermione's head. "How do you mean?" Daphne asked, purposely echoing Susan.

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip again, thinking over everything she'd observed about one Harry James Potter over the previous two months.

"Have you noticed how he watches people?"

Daphne and Susan looked confused for a moment before Daphne spoke, "I'll ask again, 'how do you mean?'"

"He watches people, all the time. When he's not reading or doing homework he's watching. His eyes are moving constantly, studying people. How they move, how they talk, how they interact with others. He's always one of the last ones to laugh at a joke, mostly because he's watching everyone else for cues on how he's supposed to act. At best, I'd imagine, Harry is an extremely high functioning sociopath. He feels everything, but he doesn't know what it is or what to do with it or really how to properly express it so he's faking it. Pretending he's just like everyone else."

"I don't know what a sociopath is," Susan started, "but I think I get it. He's going to need some serious healing before he's ready to consider his relationships with other people, much less us. But… isn't there something wrong about all this?" she asked. "I mean. It feels like we're manipulating him. Controlling him by making all these decisions about him behind his back. You remember what happened when he thought Daphne lied about Madam Pomfrey not talking about his scars."

All three shuddered briefly at that before Hermione and Daphne both nodded, sighing in near perfect unison. "I'm not thrilled about it either, Susan," Hermione admitted. "But we're simply not equipped to help him in the traditional sense. Normally he should be seeing a therapist and talking out his problems here. I think if we just give him time, and we bring up some ideas later to help him but we ask, offer options, make it clear we're not trying to manipulate him but just want to help-"

"Hermione." Susan stepped in front of her, arm sliding across the other girl until she could place both hands on her shoulders and stopped her in their walk. Hermione came to a stop and looked into the deeb blue gaze of her friend and bond mate. Susan could see fear and uncertainty floating in Hermione's cinnamon gaze, her face tense and pinched with worry.

"Hermione you're not his mother. You're not his healer. You're his friend, and one day you'll be more than that. But you need to stop looking at him as something to fix." She hesitated for a second, unsure if she should really say the next bit that immediately came to her mind. "You realize how much he hates how all those people look at him and see nothing but the Boy-Who-Lived, right? They don't actually see Harry."

Hermione nodded, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot but not looking away from the girl in front of her even as she felt Daphne come up to her side and place one arm over her shoulders.

"Well you're almost doing the same thing right now." Hermione opened her mouth to argue against that when Susan cut her off. "Not exactly the same, or to the same degree but you are, Hermione. You're not seeing Harry, the cute, sweet, protective boy that loves to fly and loses arguments with his owl. You're not seeing the boy that loves to read fantasy novels even when he lives surrounded by magic all the time. You're seeing a project. Something broken that needs to be fixed."

"Susan's right, Hermione. Stop focusing on what's hurting Harry and start focusing on what's healing him. Just _be_ with him. When you talk to him, don't look for things he's going to let slip, don't analyze the words he uses. Just have a conversation. Talk about a novel you've both read or a class project. Ask him how it feels to him to go flying. Hell, ask him to take you for a spin around the pitch. Just… focus on Harry. That will help him more than any plans or schedules or methods to try to get him to open up that you could come up with."

Hermione nodded slowly, her mind turning over the other girls words. "I've just… I spent so long working out how I was going to help him. I have dozens of books on psychology and PTSD and psychiatric methods to help abuse suffers recover and-"

"And that's the problem," Daphne cut in, gently. "It's not a bad thing, the way you research and try to understand everything but, Hermione, your world is all about facts and information. But you're also an emotional person and that logical, rational brain of yours is fighting with your emotions. For a while, just let go of all that and worry about just being here with him."

She nodded again and Susan could feel the tension slowly ease from her shoulders. She pulled Hermione into a quick hug and then stepped to her side, wrapping one arm around her waist even as Daphne kept her arm across Hermione's shoulders as the three of them silently made the rest of the journey to Gryffindor tower.

Once inside they headed for the dorm and climbed into their beds. Hermione glanced at the closed curtains around Lavender and Parvatis beds as she climbed into her own, idly thinking that they hadn't made much effort to get to know the other girls in their dorm.

She pushed the thought aside though and just closed the curtains around her own bed before she climbed under her blankets and laid her head on the pillow, sighing deeply as she tried to go to sleep.

Half an hour later, she was still awake, staring up at the darkened canopy of the bed above her when her curtains slid open slightly and she glanced over to find dim candle light glinting off of long, straight blond hair.

"Daphne?" she whispered. "What is it?"

Hermione waited as Daphne fidgeted nervously, shifting her weight from foot to foot for a moment, her face a study of nervous indecision even as those same emotions flooded across their bond. Hermione thought it was strange, but still a good thing, to be able to feel the emotion of the other girls in the bond with her. Somewhere at the back of her mind she worried about the possible implications but consciously she hadn't given it much thought.

"What's wrong?" she asked, finally.

"I can't sleep," Daphne admitted, sounding almost forlorn. "I-I keep seeing the Troll and… Harry, lying on the floor just… broken."

Hermione nodded and slid back a bit in her bed, pulling open the covers in invitation.

Daphne hesitated for a moment longer, but eventually she climbed into the bed, pulling the curtains shut behind her as she slid under the blankets and moved closer to the other girl. She pressed her face into Hermione's shoulder and her arm came up, clutching at her bond mate, almost desperately as fear and a sense of loss flowed through their bond.

Within a minute the curtains opened again, and without a word, Susan slid into the bed behind Daphne. She laid down, one arm coming up to wrap around the blonds waist and the three girls settled in, Hermione and Susan doing their best to comfort the distraught member of their group.

Within minutes, drawn and tired from the long and emotional day, the three of them drifted off, taking comfort in each others presence.


	8. Floo Debacle

**Authors Note: Two guys walk into a bar, the third one ducked.**

 **Rotten Writer, here again ladies and gentlemen, with the eighth installment of Soul Scars. Don't really have any major announcements this time around except for a couple minor things.**

 **Number one: I'm American. Born and raised in Southern California. I have been trying to use metric system measurements for things and British idioms as much as possible but I don't always manage it and apologize if that's jarring to anyone.**

 **Numer two: I am also NOT an expert in child psychology, psychology, or any other sort of field related to. I am doing my best to not have Harry just 'get over' his years of abuse and instead working on a slow progression where he gets the help and support he needs. Again, if I'm missing the mark I apologize, but I'm doing my best and only hope any mistakes can be forgiven and don't interfere with your enjoyment of the story as a whole.**

 **We're coming into the second half of the story now, things are going to be picking up and in no time we should be wrapping up with Year One. Year Two is already in progress as well and I'm really looking forward to advancing the story and building a little more on my version of the wizarding world.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing of value. Please do not sue me. I'm just playing in the sandbox as so many before me have done.**

 **On with the show!**

Soul Scars

By,

Rtnwriter

Chapter 08

The Christmas break was fast approaching and the students were finding it to be more and more difficult to focus on their studies with the holidays right around the corner. Even the professors found themselves distracted and it became more and more of a chore to get the students to focus in class. By the second week in December the Great Hall was festooned in holiday decorations, with a dozen massive Christmas trees placed throughout the space, decorated in glittering ornaments and, what seemed like, miles worth of tinsel.

It'd been a busy number of weeks, Harry reflected, as he sat in the library one day with his friends. The day after the Troll Incident, as it had come to be called, the girls had noticed Snape walking with a pronounced limp. They told Harry about it when they came to visit him in the hospital wing after lunch which led Susan to mention that she'd seen the disagreeable potions master heading toward the third floor on their way to rescue Daphne.

The general consensus was that Snape had been bitten by the dog guarding the trap door. Hermione, Neville, and Harry then had to quietly fill Susan and Daphne in on what they'd found the night of the almost duel.

"So we know there's a big dog, it's guarding something, and Snape is limping after being seen heading in that direction on Halloween night," Susan had said, laying out the information they had available to them.

It wasn't much to go on, but in late November they finally caught a break. It was the day of the first Quidditch game of the season, after Harry was nearly thrown from a cursed broom and still somehow managed to catch the snitch. They were visiting with Hagrid when Hermione and Susan started ranting about Snape cursing his broom. One thing led to another and they blurted out that they knew about the dog.

Next thing, they had a name, and a direction for their search.

Nicholas Flamel.

"Harry?" Susan's voice brought him back from his musings and he realized that everyone at the table was staring at him. Hermione, Susan, Daphne, Neville, Hannah, and Tracey were all giving him a concerned look and he flushed brightly for a moment.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Did someone ask me something?"

"I did," Hermione said. "Where were you?"

"Sorry, just thinking about everything that's happened since we got here. It's been a crazy year so far."

Hermione offered him a small smile. "That it has. But anyway, have you had any luck?"

He frowned at that. "No, and it's really bugging me. I _know_ that I've seen that name, somewhere. I just can't remember _where_." He closed the book he was flipping through before his mind had started to wander and shoved it away from him, letting his head drop onto the table. "Is there any possibility that we're looking at this wrong?" he asked, his voice muffled.

"How so, Potter?" Tracey asked.

"Well, are we positive this guy Flamel is a wizard?"

Everyone around the table collectively blinked and simply stared at him.

"What?"

"Well… Dumbledore's like, stupid old, right?" Half the table grinned at his description. "I mean he's over a century. Do we really think that in all that time he's only ever interacted with witches and wizards? What if this Flamel guy is a muggle?"

They considered that for a moment before most of them started shaking their heads.

"That sounds pretty unlikely, Harry," Hermione said and he sighed.

"Yeah, I know. It was just a thought. We've been through hundreds of books here and haven't even caught a glimpse of the name." He shrugged. "I don't know, I guess I'm just getting frustrated with the whole thing."

"Why don't we take a break?" Susan suggested. Hermione tried to argue but everyone else was more than ready for a break. "We haven't made any progress in weeks, Hermione," Susan pointed out. "And we leave for the holidays tomorrow. It's not likely we're going to stumble upon Nicholas Flamel today, at the eleventh hour. And even if we do, what good is it going to do? We're leaving. We won't be here to wonder about whatever it is that Fluffy is guarding or who Flamel is."

Hermione still didn't look convinced so Susan sighed and tried a different tack.

"Look, you got permission to spend part of the holidays at my house, right?"

Hermione nodded. Susan's owl, Archimedes, had returned the week before with the letter. "Yes. They want me to come home for at least the first few days, spend some time with them. But then they said I could come over."

"Well, Bones Manor includes a rather large Library. If you want you can look through our books, see if we have anything, _but_ ," she added, holding up a finger to forestall Hermione who looked like all her Christmases had suddenly come early, "we will _not_ be spending the entire holiday in the library. Get me? We're going to enjoy the holidays and have fun, understood."

Hermione looked crestfallen but nodded assent, her bottom lip stuck out in an adorable pout that had the rest of the table, including Harry, chuckling at her.

"Come on," Harry said, jumping enthusiastically to his feet. "Let's head outside. There's something I've heard about that I always wanted to try. It looked like fun."

"What's that Harry?" Neville asked as they packed away their bags and joined the exuberant young man. He was practically bouncing in place as he waited for the rest of them, a wide grin on his face.

When he answered Neville's question, his grin nearly split his face in half. "A snowball fight." He took off out of the library, calling back for them to hurry up and the group exchanged looks. Hermione, Susan, Daphne, and Neville had a look of sadness on their faces while Hannah, and Tracey simply seemed confused.

"He's never been in a snowball fight?" Neville asked.

"Harry's home life is…" Hermione trailed off, trying to determine how best to hedge around the topic.

"Hannah and I are somewhat aware of things," Tracey said, her confusion replaced by a sudden and somber understanding.

Hermione blinked, her mouth dropping open. "What? How?" she blurted out causing Madam Pince to shush her, rather loudly.

"We've been friends with Susan and Daphne, respectively, for years," Hannah pointed out. "We heard what they felt and the signs that told them they were bonded to someone. So I imagine we're about as informed as say… your parents are at the moment," she added. "Them being away from you for so many months they would have known as much as you knew as you were growing up before coming to school and that's where we are right now."

"And we have no intention of bringing it up to him or bothering him about it," Tracey said, jumping back into the conversation. "That's between you four and none of our business. We won't pry or even let him know we're aware of some of it if it'd make him uncomfortable or anything."

Neville looked back and forth between Harry's three bond mates and the two girls on the other side of the table. He and Harry had talked a bit more since the day he blew up at them and accidentally gave Neville a look into his painful life. He still didn't know much, but it was enough that he worried for his friend and was determined to be there for the bespectacled boy for as long as it was possible for him to do so.

"It seems like Harry has missed out, somehow, on a lot of things that most kids take for granted," Hermione pointed out, bringing their attention back to Neville's original question, "and I'd really rather not say more than that. It's his story to tell, when and if he ever decides to, so please, try not to pester him about it, okay?"

The glares that Susan and Daphne were giving the other three of their number immediately had all of them raising their hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Wasn't going to," Neville hastened to assure them. "It just struck me as odd that he'd somehow managed to avoid ever being in a snowball fight. That's practically a right of passage, idn't it?." The next moment his grin was fit to rival Harry's. "Come on, let's give Harry the snowball fight to end all snowball fights."

And that was exactly what they did. Together, the group of seven trooped out onto the grounds and began an epic snowball war. By the end, more students had been dragged in, and before they went inside in search of hot chocolate and warm fires the battle had swelled to include over forty students with forts built using magic and even the Weasley twins had gotten involved when they charmed a few snowballs to follow various students around, pelting them repeatedly until they surrendered.

#####

Harry Potter was excited. Excited didn't begin to cover it, to be fair. He was elated, overjoyed, thrilled, and absolutely terrified. He was sitting on the Hogwarts express, leaving school to spend the Christmas holidays with his friends. And he was absolutely positive that he was, somehow, going to do something to screw it up.

What if he ruined Christmas? What if he made a mistake? Would his friends abandon him? Would they leave him like everyone else important in his life had?

He suddenly felt a hand touch his and started slightly. Turning to his right he looked at Hermione who was sitting next to him on the bench seat. She was reading a book and without looking up had reached over and placed her hand over his where it rested on his thigh.

"It'll be fine, Harry," she murmured, quietly, still not looking up from her book. "Try to relax, please." He nodded and turned his hand over so he could squeeze hers lightly. He turned back to look at Neville sitting across from him the next moment and didn't notice the small smile that turned Hermione's lips when he didn't take his hand back and just continued to hold hers.

On his left sat Susan, and Daphne occupied the space to her other side. Susan had long since fallen asleep, slumped against his left shoulder, something that at once sent him into panic driven tension, and also just felt so right and comfortable that it was sending his emotions on a metaphorical roller coaster. Daphne just smiled fondly at the sleeping girl and with a sense of pain at the boy who just didn't know how to handle the emotions rushing through him.

Luckily Neville had kept Harry occupied with quiet discussion on a range of topics from Herbology, to Quidditch. Tracey and Hannah simply watched the four of them, occasionally contributing to conversation when they felt they had something worth adding, but mostly they were studying the interaction between their four bonded friends.

Despite the years that Tracey and Hannah had been hearing about their friends being bonded to someone, it had still been a shock to find just who that bond was with. And then with everything else that was going on, the only conclusion they could reach is that life was going to be very interesting in the presence of the four friends sitting across from them in their compartment.

#####

They exited the train, each carrying a bag filled with what they would need for their break from school. Trunks were left at the school since they really didn't need to haul everything out, considering they would just be returning in a few short weeks. Harry's body was practically humming with excitement. He still couldn't quite believe that he was actually going to celebrate Christmas! And with friends, too. That alone made this the best Christmas of his short life thus far.

Despite how excited he was, there was something bothering him. He glanced at the bushy haired girl to his right where she walked along beside him at a hurried clip, her eyes constantly scanning the crowd of students and parents.

He glanced to his left. On the other side of Susan, who walked next to him, was Daphne, still flowing along calmly and serenely. Gradually his steps slowed, hand coming up to worry at the scar behind his jaw.

Soon enough, the girls had pulled ahead of him until, almost as one, they stopped and to look back at him where had had come to a halt.

"Harry? What is it?"

He looked up into a worried, cinnamon colored gaze. "I'm really going to miss you, Hermione, and you too, Daphne."

"It will only be for a couple of days, Harry," Hermione said gently, "but I'm going to miss you too."

"You won't be able to miss me, Harry," Daphne added. "I'm going with you and Susan, straight to the Boneyard."

They shared a quiet chuckle at Susan's nickname for Bones Manor for a moment before Hermione returned her attention to Harry. "Day after tomorrow I'll be there," she assured him.

"I know it's just…" Harry trailed off fidgeting slightly and looking nervous.

"What is it?"

"I just… I don't think I've ever actually missed anyone before. I don't like it," he admitted, his brow furrowed in frustration.

"No one does, Harry, but I promise I'll be over to visit before you know it. Susan says her aunt is trying to arrange for me to be able to travel back and forth from my house at a moments notice, too." She gave him a comforting smile and he, hesitantly, returned it. "Now, come on. We need to find my parents and Susan's aunt." Hermione reached out and took hold of Harry's hand, gently pulling it away from his jaw before she tugged him along with her.

Harry spotted them first, his eyes picking out the vibrant red of Amelia Bones' hair through a group of cloaked witches and wizards as they walked in front of the quartet of students.

"Hey, Susan, isn't that your aunt?" he asked, pointing to the woman in question.

"Auntie!" Susan called and waved. Amelia looked up, catching sight of them and waved back though only a tiny smile curved her lips.

"Oh!" Hermione blurted out, noticing the couple standing next to Madam Bones. "She's with my parents."

As the students approached Dan caught sight of them and pointed them out just as Susan called out for her aunt. Easily, his eyes found his daughter and an enormous weight seemed to lift from his shoulders at the sight of her. She was smiling, brightly, broadly, something they hadn't seen her do to such a degree in years and she was leading a kid with tousled black hair by the hand as she approached.

 _Where's that Potter kid?_ he wondered just before his daughter slammed into him and he laughed, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her off the ground into a huge hug.

"I've missed you, Princess," he murmured quietly to her.

"I've missed you too, Daddy." He set her down while Susan was greeting her aunt and Hermione turned to hug her mother while Dan eyed the other two students with his daughter.

The blond haired beauty was completely unknown to him, but the kid standing next to her… something niggled at the back of Dan's mind. Something about the kid was familiar but he couldn't quite place it.

"Dan Granger," he said, holding out one hand to the boy, "Hermione's father, obviously. How do you do?"

Harry stared at the outstretched hand for a moment, confusion evident on his face before he slowly reached out and took hold of the offered hand. "Harry Potter," he said, "it's nice to see you again, Doctor Granger."

Dan, Emma and Amelia all felt their jaws drop slightly at the sight of him. This kid was the same little boy they'd seen only a few months earlier? He was by no means a large child, but he had easily shot up a good four inches and looked to be at least a stone heavier than the kid they remembered when they dropped their children off at the beginning of the school year. He appeared a touch broader in the chest and across the shoulders and while it wasn't a truly dramatic transformation, it had been just enough to completely fool the adults present.

"Wow, clean living is doing you good, young man," Dan blurted out, his eyes wide. "That's quite a transformation, I didn't even recognize you."

"That'd be the potions we got him to ask the school healer about," Hermione said, proudly, until she saw Daphne looking at her with a single arched brow. "I mean, Daphne got him to ask," she admitted, sheepishly and Susan giggled at her friend. They chatted for a few moments longer before the Grangers turned to their daughter.

"We should get going, pumpkin," Dan said, ignoring the flush that bloomed in his daughters cheeks at the nickname.

"Daaaaadddd," she whined. "Don't call me that!"

"Say good bye to your friends, Hermione," Emma told her, trying and failing to hide a grin.

Hermione glared at her for a moment. "Traitor," she grumbled but quickly hugged Harry, Susan, and Daphne and told them she'd see them in just a few days before she and her parents stepped through the barrier and disappeared.

"Well," Amelia said as she turned to the three children remaining with her, "I think we should probably be on our way as well, don't you think?" she said in as friendly a tone as she could manage. She had the distinct feeling that it was likely to be a difficult holiday at times, and there was no reason to let her worries color her interactions with the children.

Amelia and Susan led Harry and Daphne to the far end of the platform where the largest fireplace that Harry had ever seen stood. "Now," Amelia said, turning to Harry, "ever traveled by Floo, Harry?"

He shook his head. "What's a Floo?"

Amelia chuckled. "I'll take that as a 'no' then. It's a method of traveling using fireplaces."

Harry eyed her, skeptically, for a moment and she laughed again.

"I'm completely serious, young man. Here's how it works." She pointed to an earthenware pot on the fireplace mantle, which she pulled down and opened to show him the light green powder inside.

"You take a small handful of this, throw it on the floor of the fireplace and then step inside and call out your destination. You have to speak clearly so you get the right place and be careful stepping out, it's a bit of a bumpy ride." She held the pot out to Susan. "Susan? Why don't you go first, hon? That way, Harry can see how it's done. Then Daphne so you two can steady him on the other side and I'll be right behind you."

"Of course, Auntie." Susan grabbed a handful of the powder and, striding toward the fireplace, called out, clearly, "The Boneyard!" just as she threw the powder into the bottom of the fireplace.

The powder hit and there was a loud FWOOSH and a giant fire bloom into existence just as Susan stepped into it.

Harry's reaction was startling, to say the least.

As Susan stepped into the green colored flames a jolt of terror ripped through him and he darted forward. "NO!" he roared, and reached for her.

"Mister Potter!"

"Harry, stop!"

His trainer caught on the edge of the grate, power welling up inside him as he reached for her, desperate to pull her from the flames, and he tumbled forward into her. Amelia pulled her hand back as Harry and Susan vanished and the charms on her monocle told her quickly what was about to happen.

The air around the Floo point crackled ominously and she grabbed Daphne, scooping her up into her arms and ran back down the platform away from the fireplace just as the whole thing exploded.

#####

"Welcome home, Neville."

Neville looked up at his Gran, her expression still set in her usual stern expression. "It's good to be home, Gran," he said and stepped forward after brushing the soot from his shoulders to wrap his gran in a quick hug. Augusta Longbottom was never extremely comfortable with overt expressions of affection. Which was not to say that she didn't love her grandson, she was just a far more reserved individual in her actions than most. As such the hug was brief, and Neville dropped his hands before extending his arm to her for her to take. She hooked her right arm through his elbow and the two made their way from the Floo Access at Longbottom Manor to the drawing room.

Once seated Flopsy, the Longbottom family house elf supplied refreshments before popping away and Neville waited patiently while he poured tea for his grandmother and served her. She took a long sip of her tea, humming quietly in appreciation before she settled back in the ancient wing backed chair that she preferred and studied her grandson where he sat across from her in a plush armchair with the Longbottom crest carefully stitched into the fabric.

"Your letters have been somewhat less than informative, recently," she said, not with accusation in her tone but curiosity. "Has it been such a boring year at Hogwarts that there is nothing to talk about to your old grandmother?"

Neville sighed. "Exactly the opposite, in fact, Gran," he admitted, attempting to put his thoughts in order. "As I mentioned, I met Harry on the train and told him about the old alliances between House Potter and House Longbottom. He was completely ignorant of his House and status in wizarding society since he was raised by his mother's muggle sister."

"And have you been doing your part to educate him?"

"I have. In fact, he used some of what I taught him to give a Slytherin friend of one of his… of a friend in our house the opportunity to be able to come sit with us at the Gryffindor table without losing face amongst the snakes or endangering herself in the process."

She arched a brow, both at what he'd said and at what he hadn't said. "How did he manage to do that?" asked, curious despite herself.

He grinned, still finding the entire situation amusing. "Well, in our group of friends at the time it was Harry and I, Daphne Greengrass, Susan Bones, and a muggleborn girl, Hermione Granger. The friend he was helping was Daphne. Her friend Tracey was sorted into Slytherin while Daphne ended up in Gryffindor with the rest of us. When Harry realized that Daphne wasn't spending any time with her friend, both because she was trying to spend time with him, and because of the different houses, he decided that he could not abide that and set out to change it." He took another sip of his tea, pausing to catch his breath for a moment.

"He walked right over to the Slytherin table in the middle of lunch and invited her to come sit with us at the Gryffindor table to spend time with Daphne."

Augusta snorted. "I imagine that didn't go over exceptionally well."

Neville grinned. "That's what we thought, at first, to be honest. She turned him down and he apologized for interrupting her and came back to sit. It wasn't until Daphne thanked him for trying but that she knew Tracey would never come sit with us when he surprised us all. I can't remember the exact words, but what it basically amounted to was he said that he never expected her to accept the invitation right away. But he made it, publicly, and so she could give it a few days and let her house know that when she does start sitting with us it was just using the invitation as a means to try and ingratiate herself toward either Harry, Susan, or myself."

Both brows rose that time. "That _is_ rather clever," she admitted. "That is a credit to your ability to teach, Neville, well done."

He flushed slightly at the praise but thanked her in a clear, confident tone, rather than the usual stuttering and mumbling she had long come to expect from him. There was a confidence in her grandson that hadn't been there when he first left for school, and it filled her with joy to see him breaking out of his shell, even if she didn't express it often.

They talked for some time and as he told her everything that happened during the year she began to notice a pattern in his speech. A number of names became commonplace on his tongue. Hermione, Daphne, Susan, and to a lesser degree, Tracey and Hannah Abbot. The first three he would occasionally stumble over his words as he spoke, as if stopping himself from saying something.

"Tell me about Granger, Greengrass, and Bones," she said, abruptly, interrupting him as he was explaining something that happened during one of his Herbology classes.

He blinked, stuttering to a stop and considered the request for a moment. "Well, Hermione is muggleborn and a force of nature when it comes to school work. I'm pretty sure she's memorized all our course books and probably read her way through a significant portion of the library at this point. She's almost frighteningly intelligent and if she wasn't also extremely brave I would wonder why she wasn't placed in Ravenclaw.

"Daphne is absolutely gorgeous, everyone says that, but she's also scary smart and a lot more cunning than Hermione is. She should have been in Slytherin but she's fit in very well in Gryffindor with a few minor exceptions. Some of the other members of the house don't like her because of her family but she sticks close to Harry and me and everything is going well. Susan is, again, absolutely beautiful and should have been in Hufflepuff. She's extremely warm and friendly and likes and is liked by pretty much everyone. She'll go toe to toe against Malfoy without batting an eye, too."

"It sounds like you like these girls," she noted and he smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, there isn't a lot not to like. They're all three very nice girls and we've all become really good friends, them and Harry. Harry has several times thrown the old motto in my face when I start getting down on myself. He's quite firm about standing up for people and he's been gathering even more fame around the school completely unrelated to the whole Boy-Who-Lived garbage." The disgust in his tone was obvious and she found herself shocked to hear it from her grandson.

"The Boy-Who-Lived is an important-"

"Fantasy," he cut her off and her eyes widened in shock. He had never once cut her off before. "The Boy-Who-Lived, doesn't exist," he bit out. "Ever since I met Harry and got to know him I've seen how people treat him, and that's his peers, people that should see him as just another kid. They stare at him and point and whisper when he walks by and only a few of the things they talk about him for are things that he actually did. It drives him completely crazy and he hates it. What everyone's heard about the Boy-Who-Lived is complete fantasy. There are only a few people that know Harry and I'm proud to be one of them."

She leaned forward and stared intently at her grandson, studying him carefully. Normally when she did that he became quite flustered and looked away from her within seconds but this time he met her gaze steadily and refused to look away, even if she could still see that he was nervous. It was an incredible improvement over the child she'd seen to the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of September.

"You've changed, Neville," she said. "You're finally starting to show the great wizard I always knew was lurking in there."

He blushed but didn't look away. "It helps having good friends that won't let me crawl back into my shell," he admitted.

"Well, I have to say that they've been exceptionally good for you. I'm proud of you." She stood and pulled her grandson up and into a hug. Despite his pleased shock, he returned it fiercely, almost crushing her against him and a minute later she pulled back and placed her hands on his shoulders, giving him a fond smile.

"I think that's enough for now. We'll talk more at dinner. Why don't you go check on your greenhouse?"

"I'll do that, thank you Gran." Neville gave her a broad smile and hurried from the room, already going over a list of what he'd need to work on in his greenhouse while his grandmother watched him.

"Granger, Greengrass, Bones," she muttered. "I'll have to remember those names. I might need to contact the Head of House for one of those girls about a marriage contract in a few years…"

#####

They spun and twisted, colors and gaps showing offices, homes, and any number of other locations flying past them as they tumbled through… something. Harry couldn't begin to describe it. All he knew was the feeling of Susan in his arms and a distinct lack of burning pain, but before he could register the oddity of that realization, it ended.

There was a thunderous crack in the Floo room at Bones Manor. Green fire erupted from the fireplace and with a blast like a cannon shot, Susan and Harry were violently ejected from the fireplace at high speed. They flew through the air, easily clearing three meters off the ground and Susan opened her mouth to scream as Harry twisted, turning them in mid air so that he was under her. He clenched his eyes shut, bracing for what he knew would be an incredibly painful landing.

He wasn't entirely wrong. The landing certainly did hurt as all the air was forcefully ejected from his lungs when Susan landed on top of him but the surface under his back wasn't hard floor, as he'd expected. It took him a moment to get his bearings, but it appeared that they had landed on a large, overstuffed sofa some eight meters from the fireplace. His entire body shook violently as he fought to draw breath into his bruised lungs but through it all his arms remained clasped tightly around Susan's body, refusing to let her pull away from him when she tried to sit up.

For her part, Susan wasn't as scared as she felt she might have been. Something strange was always happening around Harry Potter, and she knew that she was as safe as could be when she was with him. She could feel him trembling against her, her head tucked almost forcefully under his chin by the grip he had on her body. She became aware of a strange rumbling hum that she could hear vibrating in his chest from where her ear was pressed against him but she couldn't make out whatever words he was muttering.

A few moments later there was a second loud crack and Harry jumped. Somehow, he slipped out from under her and was standing so fast that she couldn't figure out how he moved. By the time she sat up he had positioned himself in front of her, his wand in hand as he stared down her aunt and Daphne, who had just arrived in the room behind them. Judging by the sound, Susan guessed that they had Apparated.

Immediately, Amelia shooed Daphne several steps away from her, eyeing the wand trained on her.

"Harry?" Daphne called, quietly. The boys eyes were wide, wild with terror and his hands shook violently but he still managed to keep his wand pointed in Amelia Bones' direction. "Harry, it's okay," she said.

"No it's not! It's not okay!" he snapped.

"It is, Harry. I promise, everything is fine."

"It was green."

Susan and Daphne blinked. Susan looked to her Aunt, who appeared as confused as she was, but no less wary of the wand pointed at her.

"What was green, Harry?"

"The fire."

Daphne nodded. "Yes, Harry," she agreed info a calm, soothing tone, Floo fire is green, that's how we know it's safe and that it won't burn us. The powder makes it safe."

"The fire was green. And the words. The words were loud. And the screaming."

Daphne wasn't sure that Harry was even looking at them anymore. His eyes were still wide but his gaze appeared unfocused, as if he was seeing something only he could view.

"What words, Harry?"

"Don' 'member.," he mumbled. "Words. And fire. Light. Green light. They died and I died and he died no I didn't die but he died and I was- I was- I was not dead. Dead, not dead. Green fire."

Susan and Daphne became more confused and more worried the longer he stood there. Susan's eyes were trained on her aunt, though. Amelia Bones' face paled significantly as Harry spoke, all the blood seeming to drain from her complexion and her eyes closed for a moment before she opened them again, tears welling up.

"Susan?" she called, gently, as Harry continued to mutter and mumble.

"Yes?"

"Catch him."

Susan blinked, and before she could think to respond, Amelia reached for her wand.

"REDUCTO!" The curse shot from Harry's wand, streaking through the air between him and the threat only he could see. Amelia dove to the side, away from Daphne, who was diving in the other direction. She rolled, came up on one knee and her wand snapped up.

"Stupefy," she whispered. Harry hadn't even managed to turn to follow her before the spell slammed into him, lifting him off the ground, back toward the couch, and into Susan's waiting arms.

"Sweet Morgana's tits," Amelia groaned. This was not good. "Daphne, Floo call St. Mungos. Tell them Amelia Bones requests that Healer Gant come here and that I want him here right bloody now. The wards will allow him through for the next ten minutes."

She flicked her wand and Harry's limp form floated up out of Susan's arms and preceded Amelia from the room. "Susan," she called behind her, "help me."

"Coming," Susan called. A moment later, as Daphne had her head in the fireplace, calling St. Mungos, Susan tore her eyes away from the meter wide hole Harry's Reducto had blown in the wall and scurried after her aunt.

#####

"Sit."

The single word was spoken in such a commanding tone that few would be willing to ignore it.

Daphne and Susan sat.

Amelia Bones sank into a small love seat across from the two girls and stared at them for several long, excruciating minutes.

"Binky," she said, finally. With a quiet pop, a house elf appeared, dressed smartly in a black uniform with the Bones family crest on the left breast of the jacket.

"Yous called for Binky, Mistress Bonesy?" the little creature squeaked.

"A bottle of Ogdens Finest and two butter beers, please, Binky."

"Right away, Mistress Bonesy."

Moments later all three held a drink in their hands and Amelia slowly sipped at her glass of fire whiskey.

"Do you two understand what happened here today?" she asked after she was half way through her glass and had taken more than a few deep, calming breaths.

Both girls shook their heads.

"I can only guess at the moment, but, I think the green of the fire triggered a memory that terrified that young man."

"What was it, Auntie?" Susan practically begged. "We've never seen Harry like that. He's usually so in control of his emotions, unless he's angry. When he's angry he's…" she trailed off, searching for the right word.

"Hot."

"Daphne!"

The blond arched a brow at Susan. "What? He is and you know it. The good thing is that _he_ doesn't know it. When he's angry and goes all alpha male protecting us he's incredibly attractive, and I haven't even seen him do it as often as you have. The one time I got a good look at it was when he found out Madam Pomfrey wrote to Child Services about his scars. And he was mad at _us_ at the time." She shuddered. "Gives me shivers."

"Explain." Amelia hid her smirk behind her glass at the sight of her flustered and blushing niece.

Susan glared at Daphne, who was totally untouched by her ire and simply sipped her drink. "When Harry gets angry… his control on his magic slips and..." she trailed off again for a moment. "Oh, dammit. Yes, he's hot," she admitted. "His eyes glow and his magic swirls around him. It whips his hair and his robes like he's standing in the middle of a high wind and the air around him feels heavy and just crackles with power." She shivered, an action that was mirrored by Daphne beside her.

"That's actually pretty common," Amelia said. "When powerful people release some of their aura like that… it has different effects on the people that see it happen. Based on the Reducto he used, I can already tell he's powerful. But that very same power worries me, a bit," she reluctantly admitted. "He doesn't seem to have a great deal of control, and power without control is dangerous. I wouldn't want to see either of you, or your third, Miss Granger, getting hurt."

"Harry would never hurt one of us. Hermione, Daphne, and I are probably the three safest witches in all of England with that boy near us," Susan immediately spoke out in Harry's defense.

Amelia hummed but said nothing either for or against her niece's statement.

"So… do you know what he was remembering?" Susan ventured, hesitantly after the silence had dragged on for several long minutes.

Amelia sighed and ran a hand back through her shoulder length hair. "I can only guess. But the way he spoke. Light. Green. Death. I can only imagine he was remembering the night that Voldemort killed his parents and tried to kill him. The killing curse is a very distinctive green color, and the sight of Susan walking into a wall of green flame must have triggered something."

Susan covered her mouth with one hand, anguish in her eyes at the very thought. "No wonder he was so scared," she muttered.

"He was more than scared, Susan," her aunt spoke gently, leaning forward in her seat to stare at her niece. "He destroyed the Floo access at Kings Cross."

Susan blinked.

She turned to face Daphne. "He did what?"

"Blew the whole damn thing to kingdom come."

"Magical backlash," Amelia said. "Floo travel uses the witches or wizards own power to fuel it. When Harry jumped in after you, he was agitated and his power was spiking. He overloaded the Floo." She set her glass down. "Suffice it to say that, even if he gets over this fear, he should probably avoid Floo travel in the future. I can only imagine that he'll become more powerful as time goes on and that will make travel by Floo rather violent for him unless he learns to drastically rein in his power."

"How did the two of you end up on the sofa anyway?" Daphne asked. "It didn't seem like we were that far behind you."

"We flew, sort of. When we came out we were shot out of the fire place at high speed. Must have cleared four meters before we landed on the sofa. And Auntie?"

Amelia gave her niece a questioning look.

"He protected me. Turned us in mid air so I'd land on top of him. He used his body to cushion the fall for me."

 _That_ surprised her. Amelia didn't know how to wrap her brain around the enigma that was Hary Potter. As an obviously abused child, it was strange for him to be so compassionate. Not unheard of, but strange. Many such children were filled with rage and hatred and just lashed out at anyone they could. But based on the little she'd seen and what Susan had written to her in her letters, he seemed to have quite the firm moral code.

"We can't abandon him, Madam Bones," Daphne spoke up. "We won't." The look she leveled at the older woman was calm and even, with a hint of steel in it. Beside her, Susan matched her stare and both girls waited for her to respond.

Amelia snorted and downed the rest of her drink in one gulp. "There was never a possibility of abandoning him. He's bonded to you, both of you and Miss Granger."

They nodded even though it hadn't been a question.

"There's no breaking a bond like that so it was never going to happen. Only question is how do we go about helping him and helping you girls? He's obviously troubled, seems like a good kid and he doesn't deserve what's happened to him, but he's going to have a hard time of it for a while, and his reactions and such will help determine how best to approach him." She set her glass down on the low table between them and stood. "I'd like to see that protective streak of his, though. I think I'd feel better getting to witness it for myself."

That time Daphne was the one to snort, derisively. "Wait till he meets Daddy. Pretty sure you'll see it at some point during my parents visit here."

"Should I be worried?"

"I don't think Harry will hurt him. Depends on what Daddy pulls, I guess." Daphne shrugged, nonchalantly.

Both brows climbed toward her hairline at that. Amelia knew Cyril Greengrass fairly well. He wasn't a master duelist or anything, but he was still quite the formidable and powerful adult wizard. Daphne seemed to feel that the eleven-year-old boy passed out in one of the guest bedrooms was a match for a man three times his age.

"Get some rest, girls," she told them. "Harry isn't going anywhere and the healer and I need to talk to see what needs to be done."

The girls finished their drinks, said goodnight, and made their way to Susan's room where they were sharing. Amelia had little doubt they would be up half the night talking and worrying, but she had bigger concerns.

She called for Binky and had him clean up the refuse from their drinks before making her way to the guest room where Healer Gant was sitting with Harry.

"Come," he called when she knocked gently on the door. "Amelia," he said when she slipped into the room, quietly acknowledging her presence but otherwise devoting all his attention to the orb in his hand. It was about the size of a fist, translucent, and filled with an ethereal blue light that was cast over the young boy lying in the large four poster bed.

"What's the good word," she murmured quietly.

"Bolloxed."

Amelia frowned. "That isn't a good word."

"It's the only one I have at the moment. Amelia, you _have_ to get this kid away from wherever it is that he's living. I'm honestly amazed he's as held together as he is, but he's not going to last forever. He's eventually going to crack and, based on the redecorating he did to your Floo access room, you know as well as I do that it won't be good for anyone's health when he does."

Amelia thought for a moment, gnawing on her lower lip as she did. "Are you okay to come talk?"

He nodded. "He'll be out for a while, probably until tomorrow afternoon." He put away the orb he still held and picked up his bag, following her out of the room and back to the sitting room she'd just vacated.

Sitting, Gant accepted a glass of Ogden's and sipped it appreciatively.

"So, what can you tell me? Whatever falls under my purview as I'm heading the investigation I've launched into his living situation."

He gestured to his bag. "The Merlinial Orb tells us a lot, scanning surface thoughts, but not everything. Unlike true Leglimancy, it can't delve into older memories, or even target specific memories, just kinda gives me an overview of his mental state. From what it can tell me though, he's been through hell, plain and simple. I've known Aurors and hit wizards with a bare fraction of the number of scars. Diagnostic charms show dozens of broken bones that healed badly or were never set properly. The potion regimen he's on should get him close to the weight and height he should be but the bones might cause some issues as he grows. Personally I'd like to get him in St. Mungos for a week to vanish the affected bones and regrow them. On the mental side of things, I think his other young lady, Granger, was it?" he asked.

"Yes, Hermione Granger."

"Well I think she almost snagged the snitch on that one, based on what you told me Susan said. He's a borderline sociopath, 'cept there's a couple determining factors that means he isn't one, really. The main one is that a true sociopath has no regard for other people. He has a very high regard for _some_ people, but others could die right in front of him and depending on the circumstances he wouldn't _feel_ anything about their deaths. He recognizes most emotions when he sees them, but has little ability to truly feel them save the negative. He's intimately familiar with rage, hate, fear, pain, disgust, loathing, etcetera. He's never been shown an ounce of kindness or compassion from the people he lives with and absolutely no affection of any kind."

He took a long sip of his drink before lowering his hand to rest the glass on his knee. "This kid has a serious magical core, too. I can only imagine it's because of what he's suffered over the years."

She gave him a blank look so he continued. "All the beatings he's taken and the damage done to him. I'm pretty sure his magic is the only reason he's still alive, it would have done its best to protect him and heal his body. Because his core was basically working overtime for so long it's grown larger, considerably. Magic is like a muscle…"

"The more you use it, the stronger it gets," she finished the old saying and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in a vain attempt to stave off a headache.

"Exactly. And this kid's been getting a workout on the daily for a long time. I'd put him on par with some fully matured adults. Now, the problem becomes that I have no idea what that means for the long run." She quirked a questioning eyebrow at him so he elaborated. "Basically, I see one of two possibilities here with this kid. You know how our cores develop through the school years and get stronger until we reach full maturity and our magical core stabilizes, right?"

She nodded worry gnawing at her gut.

"Well, I have no idea if his core did that already or not. It's possible that in an effort to protect him the core went through all the maturation phases and is fully developed at age eleven. It would be _extremely_ unusual, but possible."

"Or?" she prodded.

" _Or_ I was correct in my initial assessment, and the size of his core is purely due to it getting such a steady workout over the last several years. If that is the case, then it means he still has his normal growth phases to go through which means there is no telling how powerful he's going to be when he grows up."

Amelia's eyes were wide as she considered the, frankly, frightening implications behind option number two. "Is there any way to determine which conclusion is the most likely to be correct?" she asked.

Gant shook his head. "The only thing we can do is observe him over the next few years. If in two years his core goes through a jump in growth we know that he's on track two of my possible options. Either way, he's _got_ to get some healing done on the mental scars or he'll be an incredibly dangerous and entirely unpredictable wild card in a few years."

"Should he be placed under a mind healers care at St. Mungos?"

Gant shook his head, immediately. The lack of hesitation did a great deal to comfort her.

"No. If his situation were different I would think differently, but that young man has a unique support structure unlike anything anyone has ever seen."

"The bond?"

He nodded and took another sip of his drink. "He's been suppressing his emotions for a long time now. Shoving them deep down where they can't hurt him. Hope and the idea of anything positive has been well and truly suppressed so that he doesn't know how to express it, doesn't know how to _let_ himself truly feel it. I'd imagine he's an incredible actor, faking the emotions he knows he should be feeling.

"This bond he has to the girls. He can feel the things that they feel. So it'll help coax his emotions out and let him recognize them and start to express them himself. I've calmed the fear he felt tonight. He'll still remember what happened, eventually, it'll be muddied at first but the memories will come back, slowly, and he won't be overwhelmed by that terror when he wakes up. When they go back to school I'd like to arrange to swing by and see him once a week, monitor his progress and offer any help I can."

"The girls and I would appreciate that, Gant. And I'll talk to him. From what I understand he was less than pleased when he found out that Madam Pomfrey at Hogwarts informed my offices about his condition when she first saw the scars he has. He was under the impression that her Healers Oath would prevent her from speaking of it to anyone."

He nodded, pale amber eyes regarding her thoughtfully. "That's fairly common, actually. In a strange way, a lot of kids that have been abused are the most reluctant to actually do anything about it when the opportunity presents itself. There's a lack of trust in authority figures. Plus, my theory is that many just get so used to the situation, and they're ashamed, or even start to feel like they deserve it, and just don't want anyone to know. Even the people that could help them."

They talked for another hour longer before Amelia saw the healer to the Floo and after he departed she checked on the girls, finding them both sound asleep in Susan's bed, and then turned in for the night.

It was some time before her mind quieted enough for sleep to claim her.

#####

Harry's eyes snapped open and quickly flitted about the room, taking in as much information as he could and processed it as quickly as possible.

The room was considerably larger than his cupboard, and probably equal to the size of his dorm room at school where five students shared space. In other words, it was a damn large room. He sat up slowly in the bed, looking around as he moved. Aside from the bed there was a nightstand on his right side of the bed and a large fireplace directly across from him with a low table an armchair and a small sofa between the two. Plush carpet covered the floor in a soft tan and cream colored walls were bare of any pictures, paintings, or other decoration.

Harry slipped from the bed, looking around for his bag which he eventually found sitting on top of a chest that was placed at the foot of the bed. He dug through the bag, quickly selecting a change of clothes. Minutes later, dressed in clean clothes, he slipped from the room out into the hall. It was a long hallway that seemed to run the length of the building, but he couldn't be entirely certain of the shape or layout from where he was. He needed to see more. So he set off to explore, much as he'd done during his first week at Hogwarts. He still hadn't told any of the girls or his dorm mates about his nighttime wanderings. It was just something he felt he needed to do. He needed to know the escape routes, the hiding places, the nooks, the crannies, the out of the way places that people overlook or don't typically know about.

After wandering the first floor for a while he determined that it was almost entirely bedrooms with one game room and one study with shelves filled with books. In the bedroom immediately across from the one he'd woken in he found Daphne and Susan, sharing a bed and huddled in each others arms as if seeking comfort. He couldn't really understand why, but he was careful not to wake them and closed the door behind him.

To his left from leaving their room at the very end of the hall was another door which opened into a much larger bedroom. He could vaguely make out the sleeping form of Amelia Bones beneath the blankets and quickly and quietly closed the door.

He didn't notice a pair of deep blue eyes open or the wand tip that lit up gently in the room behind him.

Downstairs on the first floor he found a much more open layout. Instead of closed doors at every turn there were simple archways separating various rooms. There was a large kitchen that dominated on side end of the house, what looked like a parlor or sitting room, a formal looking dining room and a smaller, less elegantly decorated dining room that he figured was for smaller or family gatherings. In one room he found a large, black, grand piano and stood for many long minutes, staring at it with naked longing in his eyes. Eventually, he shook himself and moved on.

In the back yard he found a nicely appointed patio with comfortable looking patio furniture, a fire pit with a small fire burning steadily in it and a large pool, complete with a diving board. He carefully skirted the pool in the dark, not wanting to chance falling in since he couldn't swim.

"What do you think of the place?"

Harry jumped nearly a foot into the air, biting back a strangled cry of surprise and spun to the voice that had come from behind him. There was a blurred figure standing there and a moment later it shivered, like heat waves in the air, and the shape of Amelia Bones became visible, her wand held loosely in one hand.

"I'm sorry," he spit out quickly. "I woke up and I just wanted to look around, get a feel for the place and I didn't mean to bother anyone or anything-"

"Harry, it's fine," she said holding up a hand to stop him as she verbally cut him off. "No one is upset with you. I'm surprised to find you awake though, I was told you would likely sleep until tomorrow afternoon and it is barely," she looked at her watch, a small but elegant gold timepiece, "five in the morning."

He didn't know what to say to that so just shrank in on himself slightly and shuffled his feet nervously.

"Well, we're up. Do you feel that you could get back to sleep or would you rather begin your day?" she asked, kindly.

"I'm not certain I could sleep right now."

"Then why don't we see about finding something for breakfast. Are you hungry?" His stomach's loud growl was answer enough and she chuckled quietly as his face pinked up. "Nothing to worry about," she assured him. "Why don't we head to the kitchen and see what Binky can put together for us? Once the girls are up we can get some food into them and we'll head to Diagon Alley later in the morning so you can all get your Christmas shopping done How does that sound?"

"That sound's fine, Madam Bones," he said. "Thank you very much for inviting me over, I can't exactly remember if I said that yesterday…"

"But?" she said, hearing the question in his tone.

"But… well, what happened?" he finally blurted out. "I don't remember getting here or going to bed…" he trailed off helplessly, looking up at her for some kind of explanation.

By that time they'd entered the kitchen to find a pot of coffee waiting and a kettle on the burner for tea. Amelia gave the coffee pot a curious look as she'd never had one in her home before. Obviously Binky was going that extra step to make young Harry feel welcome since between the two of them, Amelia couldn't stand coffee.

"That smells amazing," he muttered, starting at the pot with any almost wistful longing.

"Please, help yourself, Harry, and we'll sit and chat for a bit."

He gave her an incredulous look for a moment, certain that she had to be kidding before slowly approaching the pot. He reached out and snagged a simple white coffee mug with one hand before pouring himself a cup. A glance around and he found a small tray that appeared with a quiet pop bearing a small bowl piled with sugar cubes and a dish of cream. He ignored the cream but added two sugars and stirred his coffee for a moment. Her eyes almost bulged out when he reached for a salt shaker and poured a pinch of salt into the mug as well before carefully wiping the spoon and setting it on the dish.

Every action he took was smooth and precise and if Amelia hadn't known better she might have thought he was just a contentious and polite lad. The exorbitant care he took not to drip or make any kind of mess screamed to her that he was used to, even expected, bad things to happen if he so much as dripped a single drop of something onto a clean surface.

She busied herself with her tea, making a point of splashing a bit more than she might have with her two sugars and a squeeze of lemon. She negligently set the spoon on the pristine counter, ignoring the small puddle of tea that formed under it and made her way to the large table that filled one side of the room. She sat at the head of the table and a tray of scones and breakfast pastries appeared on the table between her and where Harry took the seat to her right so the corner of the table was between them.

"You were wondering about last night?" she prodded.

"Yes. I just don't remember what happened after we met you at the station yesterday."

"Well, that is a bit of a story. There was some excitement but before I tell it I would like you to make me a promise, if you would."

"Of course, Ma'am."

"Harry?"

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"It's Amelia."

"Yes, Ma'am."

She suppressed a sigh but didn't push him on it yet, there would be time enough for that as he got better. "Anyway, I want you to promise me that you will not get upset, you will not blame yourself, or feel bad over what happened. I promise you that no one here feels anything but concern and worry for you. No one is upset with you, or mad at you, and you will see no hostility from anyone here. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Ma'a… A-Amelia. I promise to remain calm."

"Not exactly what I meant, but close enough for now, I guess." So she took a sip of her tea as he took his first sip of coffee, his eyes crinkling at the corners in delight at the taste of the coffee, and began the tale.

She quickly went over what happened and explained the Floo system to him again, giving a more thorough description of how it worked and how the color of the flames indicated that the connection between Floo points was active. She even gave a brief overview of the Floo network itself, explaining how it was originally invented from her limited knowledge and offered to get him a few books on the subject since the idea fascinated him the more he learned about it.

"I did what?" he blurted out in surprise when she got to the part where he left a giant hole in the wall of their Floo access room with a single Reducto curse. She decided not to mention how he destroyed the fireplace at Kings Cross Station.

"Remember," she said, quietly when he started to look panicked, "no one blames you or is upset with you. You were scared, and you reacted. Susan tells me that when the two of you were launched out of the Floo you somehow turned yourselves in the air so that you used your own body to cushion her landing, protecting her."

He ducked his head, flushing and played with the empty coffee mug in front of him. "I don't remember doing that," he muttered then suddenly sat up sharply. "I would do it again, though. I would never let anything hurt Susan, Daphne, or Hermione if I could do anything about it," he said and she gave him a gentle smile, reaching out to pat one of his hands.

"I'm beginning to understand that, Harry, and I can't begin to tell you how good that makes me feel, to know those girls have such a good friend looking out for them."

He flushed again and muttered something that might have been a 'you're welcome' or 'no problem', it was somewhat difficult to tell. He stood from the table and went over to the coffee pot.

"How are you handling this situation with the girls?" she asked suddenly, startling him as he was pouring himself a second cup of coffee.

He jumped and cursed quietly when he spilled a bit, hurrying to clean up the mess he'd made. "Umm… how do you mean?" he stammered as he cleaned, trying very hard not to look in her direction.

"I mean, how are you handling it? Is it all overwhelming or confusing? How do you feel about the whole situation?"

He shrugged and finished preparing his coffee while he thought over the question. "I'm doing okay with it, I guess. I mean, I still don't really know what the whole thing means. The sorting hat told Hermione, Susan, and Daphne not to tell me some parts of it yet. That kind of ticks me off, to be honest, but I trust them, so I can let it be, for now. I'm not really sure why they wouldn't fill me in on all the details too just so I know all of what's happening…" he trailed off and shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly.

He didn't exactly fool Amelia though, trained investigator that she was. It was easy enough for her to tell that he didn't care much for not having all the information but she could understand why they wouldn't fill him in on everything.

"I'd like to broach another topic, if I may?" she said, deciding to steer away from that topic for the moment. He gave her a questioning look and she took a deep breath before launching into it, "About your living conditions…" she saw him immediately tense up but pushed on. "I don't want to pry if you don't want to talk about it. I _have_ to conduct an investigation since it was brought to my offices attention but I can't force you to cooperate if you really don't want to. But I do have one question. Do you want to continue living there?"

"Is the Sahara desert actually a Rain Forest?" he bit out before he could stop himself. "No, A-Amelia. I don't want to live there."

"You have options." She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms, a frown marring her features as she thought over the situation. "From what I can tell talking to Susan over the years, what you've dealt with there is nothing short of criminal abuse. Neglect as well. I wish the situation was just as simple as 'that's it, you'll not be going back this summer', but there's a few more hoops to jump through than that. I've been looking into it but it has to be done delicately and with as few people knowing the details as possible." She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the next part of the discussion. "I'm going to need for you to talk about it, Harry, if you really want to get out of that house."

The blind terror that stole over his face nearly broke her heart but she kept going before he could interrupt. "Not right this second, not even during the holidays, though it might be best to do it as soon as possible. But you're going to have to tell someone what happened. We'll need your statement for the case against them, and to get you removed from their care."

He nodded dumbly, head down and Amelia decided that he needed a break.

"We'll talk about it again before you head back to school," she told him. "In the meantime why don't you go get ready for the day while I get the girls up and we'll head for Diagon, sound good?"

"Thank you," he breathed, still barely able to believe what he was hearing. He did his best to shove down the sense of hope that started welling up in his chest. Hope had never ended well for Harry James Potter, and until he saw otherwise he refused to let himself be too optimistic.

#####

The fire in the Leaky Cauldron flared bright and green three times, and each time a person stepped from the flames into the dingy pub. Harry stood with his back to the fireplace and flinched each time he heard the whooshing flair of the fire.

Amelia placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. It really hadn't taken much to convince Harry to let her side-along apparate him to the old pub, but it had taken a lot more to convince him that the girls would be perfectly okay taking the Floo. She might have taken them side-along as well, one at a time, but it was exhausting doing it that way and she really didn't feel like pushing herself too much. That might have ended up being more dangerous.

"See? Floo is perfectly safe to use."

"I'm just broken." He heaved out a morose sigh, his gaze fixed on the ground just in front of his trainers.

She squeezed his shoulder. "Broken can be fixed, Harry," she whispered in his ear before letting go and stepping over to collect the girls, waving her wand to remove the soot that had collected on their robes during their trip.

As soon as she was clear of soot Hermione rushed over and threw her arms around Harry.

"I told you it'd be fine," she muttered into his ear and he nodded woodenly. He didn't really know what to say to that so he didn't. Hermione had arrive at seven that morning. She hadn't been pleased that they hadn't gone to get her after the events of the previous day but Susan and Daphne had at least had the sense to send her an owl. She'd been beside herself when the abject terror Harry had felt the day before had spilled over to her through their link and she had no idea what was happening.

Before she could dwell more on the matter Amelia clapped her hands sharply, getting all four children's attention and Hermione stepped back, releasing Harry who slowly relaxed a bit after she let go of him. "So," Amelia said, smiling brightly, "barring a major catastrophe, I have the next few days off and tomorrow is Christmas eve so we've got some shopping to do. Where to first?"

The girls and Harry exchanged looks.

"Umm… well I should probably go to Gringotts," he said. "I'll need to pull some money from my vault. Should I meet you all somewhere?"

"Don't be silly, Harry. We'll go with you and wait while you conduct your business."

He ducked his head slightly and shuffled his feet nervously. "I don't want to hold anyone up."

"Harry." The tone in Amelias voice caught his attention more than the word itself. It was calm, patient, and kind. Spoken with a compassion he had so rarely ever witnessed. He looked up to find her smiling gently at him, the girls flanking her on either side. "We are here together as a family, of sorts. So this is a family outing. We're not just going to fly off and leave you to your own devices and you need money from your vault so that is what we'll do. You aren't inconveniencing us in any way and we have the entire day to do our shopping so you've nothing to be concerned about."

Harry felt that his throat had closed up somehow, and knew that words would fail him if he tried to speak, so he simply offered her a small smile and nodded, quickly.

"All right, then." Amelia turned and stepped over to speak to the old barman that Harry had met on his first trip to the Alley with Hagrid. "Tom? It's a pleasure to see you again but we're just passing through at the moment, we'll stop by for lunch so could I reserve one of the empty rooms for one o'clock?"

"Of course Madam Bones. I'll be sure everything is set up for your party. Five?"

"Unless we run into any of their school friends, yes. Thank you, Tom."

With that she ushered them toward the entrance to the alley and tapped the appropriate bricks with her wand. Harry and Hermione both stared in awe at the sight while Susan and Daphne watched them, small smiles on their lips. They were used to the sight of Diagon Alley around the holidays and it was a treat for them to see the awe and joy in their friends faces.

Every inch of the Alley was decorated to the nines for the holidays. Christmas trees stood outside store entrances, wreathes were nailed over doors and windows. Fairy lights winked and shimmered through the air as a gentle snow fall trickled down from the sky above.

All in all, it was beautiful.

It took them some time to reach the steps of the bank as the children stopped frequently to point out one marvel or another. Even Amelia, long inured to the touch of magic around the holidays, found herself viewing everything in a new light, inspired by the open wonder in the younger faces with her.

The five of them trooped up the steps into the bank, past the great silver doors with their message of warning to thieves, and Amelia stopped Harry with a hand on his shoulder. "We'll wait for you over here, okay?" she asked, indicating a row of seats against one wall near the entrance.

Harry nodded and thanked her with a small smile before glancing at the long row of goblin tellers. One of them caught his eye, and though several were open he stepped up behind the wizard conducting business and waited patiently for his turn. A few of the open tellers eyed him curiously but made no move to offer to help.

When it was his turn he stepped up, carefully reviewing what he had read about goblins in his mind.

"Yes?" the goblin asked.

"Teller Griphook," Harry said, addressing the creature by name. "It is a pleasure to see you today. May your enemies blood coat your blade," he said, bowing slightly but never taking his eyes from the goblins.

Griphook hid his surprise well, eyeing the young, shabbily dressed individual in front of him. Wizards never treated Goblins with respect. They never addressed them by name, and they _never_ used Goblin protocol when addressing them.

"And may their gold fill our vaults," he said, almost working on autopilot as he returned the bow from his seated position behind the counter.

Harry straightened, giving him a close lipped smile. It was considered an act of aggression to bare ones teeth to a goblin, and Harry had made certain to look up as much as he could regarding them, knowing he would need to deal with them in the future.

"Forgive me, Mister Potter," Griphook said. "It is unusual for a wizard to address us as to our custom, even more so for one to remember a goblins name."

"You were the first goblin I ever met or spoke to," Harry said. "You certainly made an impression and I felt it was only polite to treat you respectfully."

Griphook nodded slowly, humming slightly to himself. This was a wizard to watch in the years to come, he decided, and straightened up in his seat. "How may Gringotts assist you today, Mister Potter."

"I needed to visit my vault, please to withdraw some money. I also hoped to acquire any statements or information I may need regarding House Potter if they are available at this time."

"Hmmm… is there a reason you did not ask about these things during you previous visit?" Griphook asked.

Harry shrugged. "To be honest, I didn't know there was anything to ask. My friend at school, Neville Longbottom, has informed me that Potter is an old name, and that I will, in the future, be taking over as Head of House. I have been attempting to research on my own as to what that would entail but…" he trailed off, waving one hand in a helpless gesture. "I am new to the wizarding world, and I'm learning more and more that there is a lot more for me to learn than just how to throw around spells and do magic."

Behind Griphook a younger goblin was listening carefully, and at a hidden gesture from the teller he scurried off to carry a message.

"And you have not asked other wizards for their assistance?" Griphook asked, eyeing the young wizard curiously.

"Why would I ask a wizard about something that is controlled by the goblins? Your people run the bank, so it stood to reason that asking a Goblin made the most sense. In regards to dealing with other wizards and witches I have been getting instruction from my friend Neville."

Griphook nodded, his estimation of the young man rising a few more notches as their conversation continued. "I can take you to your vault, if you like, Mister Potter. When we return I can also take you to visit your accounts manager."

Harry hesitated for a moment, the indecision clear on his face.

"Is that not acceptable to you?"

"No, it's fine. Only… I have people that are waiting for me. Would it be a terribly long meeting to speak with the accounts manager today or could I return at a later date?"

"The manager could keep today to a brief meeting, simply handing over a portfolio detailing your accounts status and any pertinent information. You understand that, as a minor, there is some information not available to you until you reach your majority?"

Harry nodded.

"If this can be done quickly, then I would prefer to see the manager today, thank you, Griphook." Harry paused. "I'm sorry, is it simply Griphook, or is there a family name you would prefer to be addressed as?"

Griphook smiled, keeping his lips tightly closed. "There are clan names, Mister Potter. However they are reserved for other Goblins. To wizards we refer to ourselves simply as our given names. But I do appreciate you asking."

Griphook jumped down from his seat and came around the counter, motioning for Harry to follow him. "This way, Sir."

"It's just Harry," Harry said, but followed Griphook without any hesitation.

#####

"Madam Bones?" Amelia turned at the voice, looking down to find a goblin standing a few feet away.

"Yes?" she asked. It was unusual for a goblin to approach a wizard or witch outside of direct business with the bank.

"Mister Potter has expressed an interest in speaking with the Potter Accounts Manager. He was concerned that your party was waiting for him but has been assured that it would be a brief meeting. Teller Griphook has asked me to inform you so that you would not be concerned at any possible delay before his return to you."

Amelia blinked, completely surprised. "Thank you," she managed to mutter before the goblin bowed and strode away. She stared after him, her mouth hanging open slightly.

"Aunty? What's wrong?"

She turned back to her niece noticing all three girls staring at her in concern.

"Nothing. Really, I'm just surprised."

"Why is that, Madam Bones?" Hermione asked.

"Well, Harry is apparently meeting with his accounts manager and the goblins sent someone over to let us know."

"Why is that surprising?"

"Goblins don't tend to concern themselves overly with witches and wizards," she explained. "For one of them to go out of his way to inform us that Harry might be a little while is… unusual. He must have done something to impress them."

The girls shrugged after a few moments, not really sure what to make of the matter, and returned to their conversation. While they waited, Amelia continued to turn over the implications in her mind.

She smiled to herself. One thing was for sure. Having Harry Potter in their lives, certainly wouldn't be boring.

#####

"This way, Mister Potter."

"Please, Griphook, it's just Harry," Harry tried for the fifth time.

"Of course it is, Mister Potter."

Harry sighed. He was starting to understand how other people felt when he did that to them.

The goblin waved him into a small office. Scrolls filled a shelf along one wall and a tapestry depicting a massive battle between opposing armies dominated another. Directly across from the tapestry stood a large wooden desk and behind it sat another goblin. This one appeared much older than Griphook, but it was difficult to tell. Sharp eyes regarded Harry carefully as he entered the room and took a seat in the single chair standing before the desk. Harry was beginning to feel for all the world as if he'd been called to the headmasters office for stepping out of line.

"Mister Potter," the goblin said as Griphook closed the door and moved to stand behind his superiors chair.

"Yes, Sir."

"May name is Sharpshard. Accounts Manager for the House of Potter."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir," Harry said, inclining his head in a slight bow. He'd never figured out how people managed to bow from a seated position. "May your enemies gold line your vaults," he said. The greeting was different when speaking to goblins of varying age or station. For a younger goblin, like Griphook, the thrill of battle and besting of an opponent rivaled even that of their love for gold. For an older goblin, as Sharpshard appeared to be, the collection of wealth was paramount.

"And may their blood coat your blades, young Sir," Sharpshard finished the formal greeting. "It is refreshing to see the niceties observed in one so young," he added and Harry shrugged.

"I have done my best to research your people," he said. "I noticed the last time that I was here a lot of wizards and witches treating the goblins rather… poorly. That doesn't make sense to me."

Sharpshard gave him a piercing look. "Why is that, Mister Potter?"

"Well, the goblins control the banks."

"So?"

"All my gold is here. In your building. It strikes me as counterproductive to antagonize the people that are in charge of protecting my gold."

Sharpshard regarded him for a moment longer before letting out a short, barking laugh. "If only all wizards saw the obvious as well as you do, young man."

Harry shrugged again, sweating slightly as he tried to keep everything he'd learned about the goblins at the forefront of his mind.

"Please," Sharpshard said, waving a hand so that a small tea seat and a tray of biscuits appeared. "Be at ease. How can I help you today." Behind him Griphook started but made no other motion.

Harry quickly poured himself a cup and reached for a second, glancing at Sharpshard in question as he waited, the kettle held in one hand poised over the cup. Sharpshard nodded and Harry poured, passing the cup to the aged goblin once it was full.

Harry sat back in his chair, cup in hand with a biscuit sitting on the edge of the saucer. "I was hoping I could get a statement, or some sort of overview of the status of my accounts. It's been brought to my attention that I will be the Head of my House, eventually, and I realize that I'm rather behind schedule in learning what, entirely, that entails. I've no experience in managing finances or property, and my peers with such concerns have been receiving lessons from a young age in preparation for them reaching their majority."

"It is a wise man that seeks help when he needs it."

"I don't see myself as wise, Sir. Just aware that I am in over my head, and I could use some guidance."

"Knowing when to ask for help is a sign of wisdom, young man. Never let anyone tell you that seeking help when you truly need it is a weakness." Sharpshard set aside his cup and reached for a thick leather bound folder which he held out. "This is the layout of the Potter vaults. It will detail gold, properties, physical items held in storage, etcetera."

"Excuse me, 'vaults'? As in more than one?" Harry accepted the folder and set his cup down, flipping the portfolio open.

"Yes. The House of Potter has three vaults. The trust vault that you currently have access to. The Potter Ancestral vault, and a third filled with personal items, family heirlooms and such."

Harry's eyes were wide as he glanced through the figures detailed on the pages in the binder.

"This is…"

"It's a bit much isn't it?" Sharpshard said, a knowing grin on his face.

"It's insane, is what it is!" he burst out. "Investments, properties. I don't have the slightest clue what to do with this."

"Nothing needs to be done with it, at the moment."

"How do you mean, Sir?"

"Mister Potter, you are young, still. Until you reach your majority, or until you decide to accept your status as Head of House, whichever comes first, you won't need to directly handle anything here. That is my job."

Harry eyed the goblin, warily. "You said whichever comes first. I thought I had to reach my majority before I could take on the Head of House."

Sharpshard shifted in his seat and Harry's eyes narrowed.

"There's something that you aren't telling me," he said.

"I am not certain to what extent that you are informed, Mister Potter, and I do not wish to step on any powerful toes."

Harry flicked through the folder, his eyes flitting back and forth rapidly across the pages for a few moments.

"From what I see here, the Potter accounts are one of the oldest in Gringotts," Harry mused.

"Yes, Sir. Nearly as old as those of the Founders."

"Wouldn't mine, then, be a rather powerful set of toes for you to step on?"

Sharpshard grinned. "Oh I think I am going to like you, young man. Yes, it would do Gringotts a great disservice should you decide that we are not providing the best of service in regards to your accounts."

"Then please explain what you meant by whichever comes first. I really do not like it when people lie to me or withhold information from me."

Sharpshard hesitated again for a moment. "Should not your betrothed be present for this?" he asked finally.

Harry felt certain his eyes had just bulged out of his head. "My _what!?"_ he blurted out, too shocked to be embarrassed how his voice cracked and shot up in pitch.

"Your betrothed, Sir." Sharpshard picked up a piece of parchment off his desk and glanced at it. "A Miss Hermione Granger, Miss Daphne Greengrass, and Miss Susan Bones."

"Wha- bu- whe- we're not…," Harry stuttered for a moment before trailing off, completely at a loss.

Sharpshard frowned. "Do you not share a Soul Bond with the three ladies mentioned?" he asked, confusion evident in his tone.

"Well, yeah. That's what we were told. But the sorting hat at Hogwarts said that the whole soul mates thing doesn't necessarily mean that we'd end up in a romantic relationship. And even then we're too young to be thinking about getting _married_ ," he burst out.

"Ah, that seems to be where the confusion lies." Sharpshard folded his hands on the desk in front of him. "Please, young man, drink your tea and compose yourself for a moment. I will explain everything that I can. And as quickly as I can. I believe that you still have people waiting on you?"

Harry nodded and gulped down his tea. He glanced at the cup for a moment before sighing. "I don't suppose you have any coffee available, would you?" he asked, almost plaintively.

Sharpshard grinned and waved his hand again. A coffee pot and a mug appeared on the table and Harry gratefully poured himself a cup. There was nothing to add to it so Harry assumed goblins prefered their coffee black and unsweetened. He could deal with that.

"Mister Potter. I see that there has been some confusion. The hat was not wrong, that a soul mates link does not always end in romantic entanglement. However, what you have with these young ladies goes beyond soul mates to a full Soul Bond. That is an entirely different kettle of fish. The Soul Bond means that you four will be as close as it is possible to be, eventually. There is growth, and learning on all parts to be done. But as far as Magic itself is concerned, as far as Gringotts is concerned, you are a man courting three women with the intent of marriage, Mister Potter. When, and if you ever decide to complete the bond you will be considered married under the laws of magic. Documents will automatically be filed in your names with the Ministry but these documents will not go into effect until you publicly claim them as your wives in front of at least a hundred witnesses.

"That isn't the important point here though. As the final member of your house, you should have been able to take up your role as Head of House on your eleventh birthday. Since you will need to secure the continuation of your family line it makes it easier if you take up your status as Head of House as soon as possible."

Harry gaped at Sharpshard for a moment longer before he shook himself out of his stupor. "What exactly would that mean?" he asked.

"There are many benefits to being the Head of House. One being that you would be technically emancipated in the eyes of wizarding law. You would be responsible for yourself as any legal adult would. Your magical guardian, assigned to you after the death of your parents, would no longer be able to make any decisions regarding you. You would also receive full access to those vaults you would normally be denied before your majority. One of those obscure wizarding laws, meant to allow the inheritance of wealth for pureblood heirs."

"I'm not a pureblood," Harry pointed out, almost hopefully.

"But you are the last member of a Most Ancient and Nobel House, that allows you to fall under the emancipation as far as the laws of wizards are concerned."

"So basically they're picking and choosing what they want to recognize and ignoring what they dislike."

"More or less, yes."

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm too young for this shite," he muttered morosely. "There are no other immediate obligations? Neville mentioned a seat on the Wizengamont and I can assure you, I'm not ready for that."

"You cannot take that seat before your majority. That is a separate law and your being emancipated would not affect that at all. You would have the right to appoint a proxy for your seat to sit and vote in your stead until you are ready to take up your seat yourself. You would also be able to perform magic out of school as well, something that is denied minors under wizarding law."

Harry considered that for several moments, sipping quietly at his coffee. "Who is my current Magical Guardian?" he asked. "And what does that person do?"

"Our records show that it is Albus Dumbledore. And the Magical Guardian makes decision that would affect you in the wizarding world, such as where you live, school matters, etcetera."

"So it's Dumbledore that left me with my mothers sister?" The dangerous note in Harry's voice caught Sharpshards attention. He glanced up to find the green eyes of the young wizard before him glowing brightly as the air around him suddenly became heavy.

"Mister Potter!" he barked and Harry blinked, his anger vanishing in a moment. The heavy feeling in the air dissipated and the glow receded from his gaze. "I do not know what angered you so, Mister Potter, but such displays are frowned upon inside these walls."

Harry cringed for a moment. Damnit, he'd been doing so well. He stood and bowed low. "I apologize for my behavior, Master Goblin," he said formally. "I was… upset by the information I just heard, but I have no excuse for my outburst."

"Sit, young man. Please." Harry sat. Sharpshard eyed him for a moment, Griphook still standing at his elbow, but staring at Harry with a far more shocked expression on his face. "I will forgive your outburst here, Mister Potter. Obviously something in all this has upset you greatly. I cannot claim to understand your feelings, but suffice it to say that I will not hold them against you."

Harry let out a relieved sigh, suddenly feeling quite drained. He was betrothed? Dumbledore and the Dursleys? He was being hit with a lot of shocking information that day and wasn't sure how much more he could take.

"Mister Sharpshard. If I accept my status as Head of House, would anyone be informed of that information?"

"Not from us. Usually when these things happen the wizards themselves make an announcement so that they can inform others in their same social standing of what is happening. It _is_ a matter of public record, however. So if anyone decides to go looking there is no way to prevent them from discovering that you have been emancipated and taken up your position as Head of House."

"So if I accepted, then I would be able to find my own place to live this summer. I could go somewhere else, and no one could stop me?"

Sharpshard, regretfully, shook his head. "Not entirely. Emancipated or not, as you are still a minor you still need a legal guardian. The emancipation simply allows you some leeway to choose who that person is and you would no longer have a magical guardian to interfere. It is a tangled mess of obscure laws and rules, but for the most part, you would be free to do as you pleased, yes."

"And I would have no immediate obligations that might tip others off?"

"Nothing that you couldn't hide. You would begin receiving monthly statements from us in regards to your family accounts and would be able to start making decisions as far as investments and other such things. You would also be able to access those properties owned by the Potters that would normally wait until after your majority."

Harry considered all that rather quickly. "I would like to accept my status as Head of House then. As long as I can keep others from learning about it, I think it would be useful to take some charge of my own life."

Sharpshard grunted and nodded. "As far as your life is concerned right now, there would be very little change in your day to day. None at all save for the statements you will receive from us. No one will learn of your status from our end." He gestured to Griphook who came forward with a small wooden box in one hand. He set it on the desk and opened it revealing a heavy gold ring lying on a bed of velvet.

"Simply place the ring on the third finger of your right hand and state, 'I, Harry James Potter, accept my status as Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter'."

Harry did so, admiring the ring for a moment before slipping it on his finger. After he spoke there was a brief flash of light and the ring sized itself to fit his finger. "The ring will remain invisible save to those you wish to know about it. But not intangible. If anyone takes hold of your hand they may feel the ring even if they can't see it."

Harry nodded and immediately thought that he wanted no one to know about it, yet.

"Now, I believe our business here is concluded?"

Harry nodded again, knowing a dismissal when he heard one. He rose from his seat, accounts portfolio tucked under one arm, and started for the door but paused, one hand on the handle.

"Mister Sharpshard?" he asked, suddenly sounding more like an eleven-year-old boy, and less the informed wizard that he'd presented thus far.

"Lord Potter?"

"What am I supposed to tell the girls about this? I don't think they know that we're- I mean…" he trailed off, nervous and unsure how to continue.

"I think that is a decision you will have to make for yourself, Lord Potter." Sharpshard's tone wasn't unkind. But it was firm. There would be no advice from him. "Perhaps there is an adult wizard or witch you might ask for more advice on the matter. As far as wizarding matters of the heart are concerned, I am afraid I am unable to offer anything more helpful."

Harry nodded and thanked the goblins before leaving the room.

"He's an interesting child, isn't he?" Griphook said and Sharpshard nodded, still staring at the closed door.

"He doesn't treat us like other wizards do. I can't tell if that's just because he didn't grow up in their world or if there is something more to it. But for now, let's keep an eye on him. And pull everything we have in the archives on Soul Bonds. If he ever decides to ask us about them I want to have everything we can give available and ready at hand."

Griphook nodded and left the office, leaving Sharpshard alone with his thoughts.


	9. Christmas

**Authors Note: Once again, Rotten Writer here with Chapter Nine of Soul Scars.**

 **A thought occurred to me the other day as I was working on this and other parts of the story. I was looking back at chapter eight and I said to myself 'Self, I think you did something stupid there.' So I looked at it and I believe I've located the issue. The Goblin Sharpshard. I'm** _ **pretty**_ **sure I read that name in another story somewhere.**

 **He wasn't an accounts manager in that story, if I'm remembering correctly. But if anyone knows where it might have come from, do please let me know so I can give proper credit for the name.**

 **UPDATE: I have been informed on the origin of Sharpshard. He was a goblin combat master in the wonderful fic Harry Crow by Robst. I totally forgot about that since it's been a minute since I read that fic.**

 **Here be linkage.** **s/8186071/1/Harry-Crow**

 **Check it out, it's a great read.**

 **I also missed one word at the very end of the chapter when Sharpshard calls Harry Mister Potter after he'd accepted his Head of House Status. It really should have been Lord Potter. I've made an adjustment to the chapter to fix that and apologize for my mistake.**

 **Disclaimer: I really seriously don't own anything of value except my computer and my PS4. Please don't sue me, I'm just having fun with these characters and mean no harm.**

 **On with the show!**

Soul Scars

By,

Rtnwriter

Harry smiled. He laughed. He talked and interacted with the people around him just as he always had, even when the girls dragged him, protesting quite vehemently, to Madam Malkins to procure him an entirely new wardrobe. But Amelia Bones hadn't chosen her profession on a lark. She was good at what she did. She was good at noticing the small details that other people tended to miss or disregard as unimportant.

Something was bothering Harry Potter.

After leaving Gringotts he had acted just as always but she noticed that his eyes lingered on the girls at times when he thought no one else was looking. Other times he seemed to have a pensive expression on his face, as if weighed down by serious matters only he was privy to. It concerned her that such a change happened in him when he was only talking to his accounts manager at the bank.

After a full day in Diagon Alley, they made their way back to the Boneyard, the girls by Floo and Amelia, once again, Apparating there with Harry. He didn't flinch as badly at the sound or look of the fire, but she felt it wasn't because he was getting used to it, it was because he was distracted and probably hadn't even really noticed.

"All right, girls," she said once they were all back at Bones Manor. "Susan and Daphne, take your things up to your rooms and Hermione," she smiled at the third girl in their group, "we'll see you and your parents on Christmas day."

"I wouldn't miss it," she said, smiling. She hugged Daphne and Susan before coming over and folding Harry into another rib creaking hug then she flashed them all a smile and vanished into the Floo in a whoosh of green fire. Daphne and Susan made their way up the stairs leaving Harry and Amelia standing alone in the hall outside the Floo access room.

"Want to join me for a cup, Harry?" she asked.

He shrugged and nodded. "Sure."

Minutes later they were seated at the kitchen table again, a cup of tea and a cup of coffee in front of them, respectively. Amelia sipped quietly at her tea, watching Harry over the rim of her cup as he fiddled with the mug in front of him. He'd yet to take a drink of his coffee.

"So," she said, breaking into his musings, "what's bothering you?"

He started and cursed suddenly as he spilled coffee on the table. His face was flushed and he kept his eyes down as he wiped up the mess that he'd made while Amelia did her best to hide the amused grin that turned her lips. Wouldn't do to upset the boy.

Once he'd cleaned up he sat back down, still averting his eyes and cleared his throat. "Wh-what do you mean?" he asked.

"Don't try to avoid the question, young man," she said, firmly but not unkindly. "I haven't gotten to where I am by being blind or oblivious. Something has been on your mind since we left Gringotts. I'm not ordering you to talk to me, but… well I don't know that you've got a lot of adults in your life you might be able to go to for advice, so I'm offering an ear if you'd like to talk." She took another sip of her tea and sat back, waiting for him to talk, or not, as he would.

He considered that for a moment. She wasn't wrong. And Sharpshard _had_ suggested he speak to an adult witch or wizard. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, sitting to his right at the head of the table while he sat just on the corner across from her. But this situation involved her niece. Could he really talk to her about the fact that they were technically engaged already?

Making a decision, he stretched out his hand, laying it flat on the table and wished that Amelia Bones could see. He wasn't sure if that would work but the quiet gasp that escaped her a moment later told him she'd seen it.

"But… you're not…" She trailed off, brow furrowed as her mind raced through the possibilities. "You aren't old enough to accept status as Head of House yet," she said, working through the situation in her mind as she spoke. "So the only explanation is being emancipated under Goblin and Wizarding law. The only way for that to happen is if…" she trailed off again, her eyes moving from the ring on his finger to his face.

He nodded, looking distraught by the entire situation.

"As far as Gringotts is concerned, I'm engaged to three different girls with the intention of continuing my family line," he muttered, flushing brilliantly at the admission. "My accounts manager did also say that because I'm the last of the family line I could accept the Head of House status earlier than normal."

Things just kept getting more and more complicated around Harry Potter. "You don't seem to be happy to hear that," she mused.

"Why would I be?" he muttered.

"Do you not care for the girls?"

Harry stared at her, his mouth hanging open. "Of course I do!" he snapped. "But I'm only eleven! I'm too young for any of this. I'm too young to be looking at getting married one day or who the bride would be. I'm too fucked up for anyone. What the hell do I know about being a husband or- or…" he waved his arm wildly for a moment, "or any of this!" he burst out.

"Do they know? And how is that fair to them? I'm only one person, they shouldn't be forced into this situation. And I can't be with all _three_ of them even if that's what they or I wanted-" His mouth snapped shut and he placed his elbows on the table, head dropping heavily into his hands.

"You _are_ young," she said after several minutes of tense silence. "You're all so very young. And with this bond that you share… it's an unusual situation to be certain. But what are you most worried about, Harry?"

"I can't be married to three girls at one time. That's not fair to them and what the hell right do I have to force them into something like this when there's probably someone out there that they can love and be happy with?"

"So you forced a bit of your soul on them ten years ago, did you?" she muttered dryly.

Harry gaped at her, lifting his head in surprise. "What? Of course not."

"Then you didn't do this, did you?"

"I- I guess not." He didn't sound convinced but she figured it was a start, at least.

"Then the answer is rather simple, really." She finished off her tea and set the cup aside. "Harry. I know we haven't known each other long. Barely a day, really. But I can tell you're a good kid. You've got more than your share of issues and problems to work through, but you're still a good kid. That much is obvious. You didn't want this. You didn't ask for it and you didn't cause it. But the situation exists. So the question is, what do you want to do about it?"

"What can I do?"

"As I see it you've got a handful of options. I think only two really need to be considered though."

"What are they?" he asked, desperate for some direction.

"Number one, you can tell them about it and the four of you can sit down and discuss the situation. Decide what you all want to do as a group."

He nodded. "At which point they'll most likely hate me for dragging them into this."

He jumped when her hand suddenly slapped the table sharply. "I won't have any of that, Harry," she snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously for a moment before they softened again as he cringed away from her. "I'm sorry," she said. "But I'm serious. There is no way those girls could ever hate you. You're innocent in this situation, just as they are."

He nodded. "What's option number two then?"

"Your second option is to ignore it, for now."

He blinked. "Just ignore it?"

"For now," she repeated. "Let me ask you a question. If you hadn't found out about this today, that you were betrothed. What would you do in regards to Susan, Daphne, and Hermione?"

He considered that. "Well, we're in school together," he said. "So, we'd go to school still. Do our homework together, and spend time together as friends."

"And even given this new facet of your situation, would you do anything differently?"

"Nooooo," he said, dragging out the word uncertainly.

"Then what does it really change?" He didn't answer that, just stared into his mug, brow furrowed in thought. "Harry, you're eleven. So just… _be_ eleven. Be a kid. Go to school. Do your classwork. Spend time with your friends. Get to know the girls and let them get to know you. Work on building yourself up to where _you_ need to be. You're too young to be a husband and all that entails, right now." He flushed brighter than ever at that but she pretended not to notice and continued talking, "you have years before any of you are old enough to have to worry about what this all means for all of you. So, just wait. Just be their friend, be with them, and when you're all older, you'll be able to handle the situation and decide for yourselves what you want and how you want it."

Harry nodded. "I think that would probably be best, for now," he admitted. "I just don't know how to face all this."

"And you don't have to right at the moment. Worry about it later. I'll offer you one word of warning though, and a piece of advice."

He cocked his head to the side and looked at her curiously, waiting for her to continue.

"Did anyone explain to you that what you and the girls have is an initial bond?"

"I think the hat mentioned those words but I don't get what it means."

Amelia sighed. "It means that the bond is just formed but not complete yet." She hesitated for a moment, sure this was going to embarrass the kid to no end but took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "To complete the bond requires an act of physical intimacy. Which," she added as he flushed brilliantly, "can be done with a simple kiss as long as it is given and received with the intention of expressing a deep and true love. From what I understand completing the bond would do it. You would be married for all intents and purposes, so just… keep that in mind, okay?"

He nodded, his eyes wide. "Sharpshard did say something about completing the bond and that the marriages wouldn't technically go into effect until I did something like publicly claiming them as my w-wife."

"Then you don't have anything to be concerned about right now. That was the warning, ready for the advice?"

He nodded, though he really didn't look like he was ready for anything more on top of everything else he'd experienced that day.

"You might want to tell the girls that you've taken up your Head of House."

"I'd really rather no one know it that doesn't have to," he admitted. "It's just one more thing to make me different, and Sharpshard said that it really wouldn't make much difference in my life right now overall."

She nodded. "True enough," Amelia admitted. "But you know they're going to feel that ring on your finger. The girls grab your hand randomly all the time, so they're going to wonder. And, even if it makes no difference at all, it's still a good idea to get it out of the way. Daphne and Susan could help you as well. As Lord Potter, once that information get's out, because it will eventually, there will be higher expectations of you in how you behave and carry yourself around certain members of our society."

"Wouldn't they guess about the betrothals like you did?" he asked and Amelia shook her head.

"I would be extremely surprised if one of them guessed that much. I only did because I had a friend at Hogwarts who took his Head status early because of a marriage contract. If you explain that as the last member of your House the goblins said you could accept your Lordship, that should be explanation enough."

Harry frowned, starting to second guess his decision to accept the Head of House Ring.

"One other question that just occurred to me," she said causing him to look back up to her from where he had been contemplating the surface of the table. "I would like to ask your permission to explain to the Grangers about your Head of House status and the betrothals. I've invited them to join us for Christmas dinner and I wanted to sit down with them afterwards and discuss this bond you and the girls have. I'm sure they have a lot of questions and are worried about the whole thing and I'd like to be as upfront with them as possible."

Harry paled and swallowed reflexively at that. "Oh crap," he muttered. "Dan's gonna kill me."

Amelia wanted to laugh. She really, _really_ , did. But that wouldn't be a good idea, she felt, so she pushed it down and fought to keep from grinning at the young man.

"Trust me, I will explain that you all had no control over any of this and make sure they understand the situation."

Harry hesitated for a moment longer as he considered it before sighing. "Well, barring anything else, we're all going to be a part of each other lives for a very long time, aren't we? I mean, I can't imagine _not_ being friends with any of those girls so, no matter what, we're going to be around each other and the various parents and guardians in the future."

"True."

"Fine. Go ahead and let them know and… I'll think about what you said, about telling the girls about…" he trailed off and wiggled his fingers making the ring glimmer and flash in the light.

"Thank you, Harry. I think that will help. For now, though, I think you have Christmas presents to wrap don't you?"

He gave her a weak smile and knocked back his coffee. "Thank you, Amelia," he said. "I appreciate the advice," he said and scurried off, leaving the mug behind on the table.

Amelia sighed and leaned back in her chair. Yes. Life was never going to be boring with Harry Potter around.

#####

Christmas day dawned clear and bright and Susan and Daphne had bounded into Harry's room, happily shouting 'happy Christmas' as they woke him. They day sped by with Harry feeling like he was caught in a whirlwind. Hermione arrived promptly at seven and they sat down to open presents.

For Harry it was quite the experience. To actually be a part of Christmas with people that wanted him as opposed to looking through a crack in his cupboard door as his cousin opened a mountain of presents from his parents while Harry was left to wonder if they would give him anything to eat that day.

He had spent a long time deciding on presents. For giving gifts for the first time, and to people that meant something to him, he wanted them to be perfect. He gave each girl a small bracelet of twisted white gold with a simple charm dangling from it. For Hermione it was a tiny book, for Susan a broom and she'd almost glared at him for the reminder of their first flying lesson. Daphne's bracelet held a small snake and while she loved the gift she had given him a slightly confused look.

"I know you're not in Slytherin," he said. "But the hat thought both of us could have done well there. So this is for the most cunning and crafty among us," he whispered to her when he helped clasp the bracelet around her right wrist. She flushed brightly and gave him a tight hug.

Amelia was examining a set of mystery novels by a muggle author that she'd received from Harry when something caught her attention.

"Harry," Hermione said in a slightly admonishing tone and the older witch looked up to see that all three girls had a wrapped package in their laps. "You already got us a present, you didn't have to do anything more."

Harry shrugged, somewhat self consciously. "I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to." He flushed and stared down at his lap. "I've never had anyone to give presents to," he muttered. "I just wanted to do something special for you."

The girls exchanged a look, all four children oblivious to Amelia's careful observations. The bracelets he'd gotten them had been beautiful and tasteful, but with each girl getting the same thing, except for the charm, they weren't exactly special. Based on the packages each girl was holding, they weren't all getting the same thing from him again.

"You really didn't have to," Susan said, "but thank you, Harry."

He shifted nervously in his seat. "Don't thank me yet," he said. "Wait till you open them. I'm reasonably certain you'll like them, but…" he shrugged again and fell silent.

They exchanged another look and Daphne and Susan gestured to Hermione to go first so she lowered her eyes to the large-ish package sitting in her lap. It was somewhat inexpertly wrapped and was an odd shape, somewhat lumpy, which might have explained the wrapping.

Or, Amelia admitted to herself, it might just have been because he had no experience in wrapping presents.

Hermione tore into the present and as she pulled away the paper a flash of color was revealed before she set aside the wrapping and looked at the book bag sitting in her lap, turning it over in her hands.

"It's made from dragon hide," Harry explained and moved over to sit beside Hermione on the love seat she'd commandeered. "A young Chinese Fireball. The guy that sold it to me explained that the dragon got injured somehow and couldn't be saved. Since it was young, the coloring of the hide hadn't turned to that bright red you see on the adults and instead you get this kind of burnt orange with these streaks of black in it."

Hermione ran her hands over the extremely soft and supple material for a moment before Harry gently took it from her and continued to tell her about her gift. "Even as young as the dragon was, it's still incredibly magic resistant and really, really tough, so it should last you an incredibly long time." He pulled the drawstring and opened the top flap. "The inside is lined with acromantula silk and spelled with expansion charms and feather light charms so the bag can hold easily fifty books without getting significantly heavier. There's outer pockets, also with expansion charms, for your quills and parchment, and ink. And I thought this was the best part."

He closed the top flap again and pointed to a glossy window on the front of the bag. "See, this bit here is like a directory." He pulled out his wand and tapped it once and lines of text appeared scrolling across the little window. "Every book you put in the bag will appear listed here by title and author with a tap of your wand. You scroll through, and when you find the book you want, you tap it with your wand again." He proceeded to follow word with deed and tapped the window a second time before he reached into the bag and pulled out their defense text. "When you do that, the bag will push the selected book to the top so that you're not wasting time trying to feel your way through dozens of books looking for one in particular."

He handed the bag back to Hermione who hadn't been able to tear her eyes from it while he'd been talking. When she remained silent for some time, slowly turning the bag over in her hands, he shifted nervously in his seat.

"It's not a very personal present," he admitted, nervously stroking the scar behind his jaw. "I just thought it was better than the one you have and you always carry so many books, this way it'd be lighter for you and-"

"It's perfect," she said, cutting him off before he could really start to ramble. She set the bag aside and leaned over, pulling him into a fierce hug. "Really, Harry, I love it," she whispered in his ear. "Thank, you." She pulled back, but not before pressing a quick kiss to hiss cheek which sent both of them to blushing brightly and she returned her focus to her present, carefully not looking at anyone else in the room.

"That really is a beautiful gift, Harry," Amelia said, hiding a smirk at the blushing children. "Practical, but elegant."

Harry nodded and shifted back over to his original seat as Daphne started ripping into her own present. The paper wrapped around the long box in her lap didn't stand a chance. Once the wrapping was removed, she unveiled a box, two feet long and a foot wide made from a deep cherry wood with silver accents at the corners and a sturdy handle with a latch in the middle of the side facing her.

Harry stood and gently took the box from her and set it on the floor in front of them. "Open it," he urged her, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.

With a curious look at him she knelt down and did as he instructed. The latch clicked open and she lifted the lid and her mouth dropped open in surprise. She pushed the lid further, then it fall over until the entire box laid completely flat, doubling the open space.

In the lower part of the box lay several leather bound books, each with a different color of leather. In the top was a rack filled with pencils, charcoal, tubes of paint, brushes, and other less easily identifiable tools. Harry reached down and grabbed a knob sticking up from amongst the racks of drawing utensils and pulled. The entire thing expanded up and out of the box until it was three feet high and showed four separate levels, each filled with more and more art supplies.

"Each of the notebooks is meant for you to use with a different medium," he said. "So you could use one for charcoal drawings, one for painting, one for pencil sketches and so on. The clerk at the store said that each sketch pad is supposed to have charms on it so that they'll never run out of parchment and can be expanded or shrunk, depending on how large a project you want to work on. Of course, if you expand it for one page then shrink it for another, I'm not really sure how that'd work when looking back through them but she assured me that it wouldn't be a problem. There's apparently a bunch of runes on the inside of each cover along with instructions on which ones to tap for the shrinking and expanding."

Daphne's eyes were wide and her mouth worked up and down several times, but no words escaped her. Harry didn't think he'd yet to see her so shocked before and thought she looked kind of cute when she was at a loss for words.

"How?" she asked, finally, turning to stare at him intently. "How did you know? I've never told any of you so how could you have possibly known?"

Harry grinned. "Well, I wanted to be certain that I got you three a good present, something you would really value and wasn't just a pretty bauble or something." He indicated the bracelets adorning each girls wrist. "I loved those and thought they would look good on you three, but I wanted to get you each something special too. I thought about writing to your parents for some help, but wasn't sure how that would go over. So I pumped the only other source of information I had available to me in the castle."

She gave him a confused look for a moment before realization struck and she was stuck between wanting to scowl and smile broadly. "I'm going to kiss Tracey when I see her," she declared, "right before I strangle her." She leaned close and drew Harry into a hug, following Hermione's example and followed it up with a kiss pressed to his cheek.

"Thank, you, Harry. This is absolutely incredible."

He gave her a small smile and a nod and shuffled away from her, moving toward Susan who was looking at the small package that she held in her hands with a sense of growing excitement and trepidation. The gifts he'd given Daphne and Hermione had just been so… _perfect_ for them. Susan couldn't think of anything that meant as much to her as learning did to Hermione or art obviously did to Daphne.

"Oh boy," she sighed and turned the package in her hands over and over slowly. "Just tell me, am I going to have to kill Hannah?" she asked him.

He grinned, his eyes flicking toward Amelia, but shook his head. "Nope, Hannah is perfectly safe."

Susan turned her head to stare at her aunt. "Really?" she demanded and Amelia's face split into a broad grin.

"He made a compelling argument," she said with no sign of remorse.

Her hands shaking now, Susan turned her attention back to her present. The wrapping fell away to reveal black jewelry box which she slowly opened. She gasped when she saw what lay within, echoed by Hermione and Daphne as Susan's emotions rushed through them in a torrent. They abandoned their own gifts and their seats and rushed to Susan's side. They stood on either side of the chair she'd taken, each with a hand on her shoulder in support as all three girls examined the item nestled inside the box on a bed of black velvet.

At first, Hermione and Daphne were confused. It was a beautiful locket, to be sure, but they couldn't understand the rush of conflicting joy and deep melancholy that accompanied the sight of it. Suspended from a delicate chain of white gold, the locket wasn't overly large but was simple and tasteful, with the Bones Family Crest etched into it's smooth surface.

"It looks just like the one my mother used to wear," Susan murmured, trembling fingers gently stroking the locket. "Father gave it to her as a wedding present."

Harry shook his head and reached in to remove the locket from the box. He closed the box and set it aside, holding the locket so that it dangled across the backs of his fingers, facing the girls.

"It isn't like the one your mother wore," he whispered. "It _is_ the one your mother wore."

Susan's head snapped up, her eyes wide in shock and disbelief as behind her Hermione and Daphne both felt a lump form in their throats as tears prickled at their eyes.

"Your Aunt helped me with this one, a lot. She said that she'd been holding this for you for a long time. She was planning on giving it to you when you reached your majority after she had some repair work done to it. But said that, given that the two of us have that in common, missing our parents, she felt it might mean more for me to give it to you now. I suggested a few changes that she helped me figure out."

Susan's gaze showed her confusion and he went on to explain.

"The original locket was damaged in the attack that took your parents," he said. "So I had to organize for some fast repair work. The chain is new, and it's been enchanted to be unbreakable, so even though it's such a delicate chain, it won't accidentally break. But it's also charmed to intentionally break so, if it does seriously catch on something it won't choke you."

He flipped over the locket. On the back were a series of tiny runes, so delicately engraved that they were almost invisible at first glance. "Have you ever heard of a pensieve?" he asked. The girls all shook their heads. "From what I've been told it's an item, usually something like a large stone bowl, where memories can be viewed."

"Most lockets hold a photograph, but Amelia tells me there aren't any surviving photographs after… well, after." He nervously cleared his throat before he continued. "This isn't big enough, and won't take all the runes needed to make it a true pensieve, but it could do one thing." He held the locket flat on his open palm and opened it showing that in one side there was a tiny pool of a glimmering silvery liquid. "Touch it with your finger," he told her and, hesitantly, Susan reached out and dipped the index finger of her right hand into the tiny pool.

Her eyes went distant for a moment, as if she was looking at something far away from them and she became very still. Seconds later she jerked her hand back and burst into tears. Harry quickly closed the locket, panic gripping him for a moment as he began to feel he'd made a terrible mistake when Susan suddenly launched herself from her chair, slamming into him full force.

The two tumbled backwards from Harry's awkward position crouching in front of her to sprawl out on the rug. Harry felt panic and terror tear through him, but those feelings that he knew so well were overwhelmed by the sensations flowing from Susan into him. Sorrow and joy mixed with pain and loss and elation.

Harry awkwardly wrapped his arms around the shaking girl as she laid sprawled across him and attempted to comfort her the best he could. "I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear. "I didn't mean to upset you." She shook her head, violently, her red hair swishing back and forth with her motion. His eyes were covered by the deep red strands so he closed them and just held her until she was able to gather herself and she sat up.

After helping him to his feet she went back to her seat, taking the locket from him.

"What was it?" Hermione finally asked, no longer able to contain her curiosity.

"My parents," Susan said, a bright smile on her face despite the tears that still stained her cheeks. She wiped them away with one hand and held up the locket. "There are no images with the memory," she explained. "But I could hear them, when I touched it. My mum and dad, telling me that they loved me." She stared at the locket. "I'd completely forgotten what their voices sounded like," she added, lovingly stroking the locket.

Hermione and Daphne folded the red head into a deep hug, wrapping their arms tightly around their bond mate as Susan slowly got herself more under control.

"Please, put it on me?" she asked Harry, almost pleadingly as she held the locket out to him. He took it and stepped around her chair as she gather her long hair in one hand and lifted it out of his way. He unlocked the clasp and carefully placed it around her neck before closing it again. Once it was on it hung just below her collar bones and she touched her fingers to it for a moment, smiling softly.

Hermione and Daphne both pulled Harry into a hug, their arms wrapping tightly around him.

"That, is probably one of the sweetest things I've ever seen anyone do," Hermione whispered in his ear.

While they were hugging him Susan rose and met her aunt in the middle of the room, the two of them sharing a tearful hug as Susan whispered her thanks over and over to her Aunt.

When they pulled apart, Harry was standing there, another small package in his hands that he'd pulled from his pocket.

"Madam Bones," he said with a short bow. "I wanted to do something special for you, too, since you were kind enough to invite me into your home even though you'd only met me once before, and we barely spoke that first day at the train station. So while the shop was working on Susan's locket, I had them make this as well."

A part of her wanted to protest the gift, but she could tell by his formal tone and wording that he wasn't going to accept any protests. With a smile she took the package and unwrapped it, opening the jewelry box to find a replica of the locket Susan now wore.

"You mentioned that Susan's father was your brother," Harry said. "The shop that made the lockets told me that they couldn't find anything in the memory you submitted for use that seemed appropriate for the audio memory, like with Susan's locket. But they mentioned that they could take photographs from penseive memories, so…" he trailed off and she opened the locket to find a small, simple photograph of her brother and sister-in-law tucked into one of the spaces within the locket. He was standing behind his wife, his arms wrapped around her waist, and in her arms was a tiny bundle with a shock of bright red hair peeking out from within the blankets.

"Harry James Potter," she breathed, peering closely at the picture. It wasn't moving, as most wizarding photographs did, but one could easily see the great love the two held for each other and for the tiny baby held so carefully in her mothers arms. Without a word she reached out and pulled a startled Harry into a hug. All the hugging was seriously throwing him for a loop.

One part of him feared and still hated any sort of physical contact, but another, larger part, was growing to love these displays of affection that he had so long been starved of.

Amelia pulled back, leaving one hand on his shoulder as she carefully closed the locket. "You are entirely too good of a person," she murmured quietly to him, "for all the horror you've experienced in your life. I can't imagine how you've managed to remain so… pure, and kind. It was no imposition at all to have you with us for the holidays, Harry. You… just keep being you, understand?"

Harry gave her a bright smile, and even though he wasn't sure he truly did understand what she meant, he still nodded and moved back to his seat so they could finish opening their presents.

"Harry how did you manage to do all of this?" Daphne asked after they had all returned to their seats. "I mean, there's no way you could have gotten that locket ready just from the shopping trip the other day. That alone would have taken weeks at best to prepare."

Harry grinned. "Have you ever really talked to Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil in our year?" he asked and the girls, somewhat guiltily, shook their heads.

"Between the two of them, they've got more owl order catalogues than you can shake a wand at," he explained. "I exchanged several letters with Amelia, asking for her help with Susan's present. And with you and Daphne, it was just a matter of looking through some of the catalogues at night and writing to the shops with my questions and what I would need to arrange. After that, I just paid and picked them up when we were at Diagon Alley."

"I think you should have kept this," Daphne said with a quiet laugh as she shook her wrist slightly, drawing attention to the little serpent charm hanging from her bracelet. "You're obviously far more Slytherin than I am."

There were many ooo's and ahhh's as they went through the last of the presents they had to open, but few created the same response as the gifts Harry had presented to them. Just as they'd felt they'd opened all of them Susan noticed one last package tucked away beneath their Christmas tree.

"Harry? This one has your name on it," she said as she handed him the simple, lumpy package with a note but no signature. He quickly ripped it open and Daphne practically screamed as a silvery, almost liquid material flowed out across his hands.

"That's an invisibility cloak!" she cried.

"The note says 'Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A very Merry Christmas to you'." Hermione glanced up from the note. "There's no signature."

Debate was been long and fruitless. There was nothing to indicate where the cloak had come from but knowing it had belonged to his father… Harry regarded the item with a sense of awe and longing that he felt was overwhelming and he started to understand how Susan must have felt when he explained her locket to her. Regretfully, he packed the cloak away, resolving to consider it another time.

He received one other gift, with a note informing him that it was from Hagrid. A photo album. When he opened it tears welled up in his eyes and he was dimly aware of the girls moving to sit near him, comforting him with their presence as he turned page after page, looking at moving wizarding photos of his parents throughout their time at Hogwarts.

They spent the afternoon after that, relaxing in the parlor. Cups of hot cocoa seemed to be the drink of choice and Christmas music filled the air from a wireless in one corner. Harry and Hermione spent much of the time with their noses buried in various books they'd received as Christmas gifts while Daphne was quick to make use of Harry's gift to her and sat with one of her sketch pads open on her lap with a pencil in hand as she drew while Susan sat and talked quietly with her aunt.

By the time early evening rolled around they were shipped off to their rooms to change for dinner and by five o'clock they had all gathered at the Floo access room to greet the guests. Harry couldn't easily describe how he felt, dressed for the first time in good clothes that actually fit him and that were not part of a school uniform. He'd chosen an entirely black ensemble of slacks and a button down, long sleeved shirt with a new park of black shoes on his feet that he still needed to break in, but figured they would do for the evening. Something as simple as wearing a new set of clothes had him feeling better about himself, and more confident than he could ever remember feeling. Something the girls noticed right away as they congratulated each other in getting him to buy the clothes in the first place.

Harry broke into a smile when Dan and Emma Granger tumbled from the fire with Hermione, who had gone back to the house to collect them, and quietly greeted Amelia. He'd seen it enough times that he was convinced the Floo was safe, just the idea of trying to take it himself still filled him with terror and he quickly shoved it aside and focused on the new arrivals.

"That is a bit of a ride, isn't it?" Dan commented and Amelia laughed.

"Most wizarding forms of transport are similar. I have a friend that never quite got used to portkeys. Violently ill ever time, the poor dear," Amelia said.

"Having a good holiday, Harry?" Emma asked as she folded him into a quick hug.

"It's been brilliant." He hadn't been able to stop smiling all day and she gave him a bright smile of her own.

"A smile looks good on you," she said and his smile grew even broader if that was possible.

"It feels good, too," he said.

"And the new clothes." She gave him a bright smile. "You're looking quite handsome tonight, Harry."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"Emma, please."

Harry nodded, grin still firmly in place as the fireplace flared again and two more people stepped out.

He couldn't see her. Wasn't standing near her at that moment. But immediately, Harry felt Daphne tense and a wary apprehension flooded through her body and across their link into Harry, Susan, and Hermione.

Harry turned, the grin that hadn't left his face all morning falling away to be replaced by a stony expression as he took in the two people that stood brushing soot from their shoulders in front of the fireplace.

Cyril Greengrass was an imposing figure of a man. He towered over Harry at just a hair under two meters tall and easily outweighed the younger wizard by more than a hundred pounds. He was broad shouldered with shoulder length raven locks. Eyes an even colder blue than his daughters, peered out of a face that appeared to be carved from granite for all the emotion it showed.

"Mister Potter," he said in a smooth, deep voice that perfectly matched his broad frame. He strode forward, his wife following with him as he extended a hand toward Harry. "Cyril Greengrass," he said. "It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. This is my wife Danyella." Harry shook the man's hand as briefly as he could before accepting his wife's and repeating the process. Harry saw where Daphne got her looks. Her mother was just as slender and with the same beautiful blond hair though hers was twisted into a complicated braid that fell over one shoulder nearly to her waist.

"I haven't yet determined that I agree, but I hope to be proven wrong," Harry bit out in a cold voice that had the entire room freezing in their conversation to look toward the confrontation happening near the fireplace. Susan, Daphne, and Hermione stared at him, mouths hanging open while Dan and Emma shifted nervously, aware that something was happening outside the realm of their understanding.

Amelia watched the proceedings like a hawk, her sharp gaze taking in everything and her hand never straying far from her wand. She was beginning to understand what Susan and Daphne had meant when they talked about Harry when he was angry. There was a presence that surrounded the boy that made him seem larger than he actually was.

"And what, precisely, is that supposed to mean?" Cyril asked, his own tone dropping to frigid levels.

"It means precisely what it sounded like. I haven't yet decided if it is a pleasure to meet you. Hopefully you'll change my mind before the end of the night."

Cyril's jaw tensed as he ground his teeth but no emotion reached his eyes and for a moment the two stood, still as statues, staring each other down. Finally, Cyril nodded and turned to extend his arm to his wife who gracefully accepted it and strode forward with her husband.

"Amelia," Danyella called out as they approached. "Thank you so much for having us, and for inviting Daphne to stay with you. I know she was looking forward to this holiday for some time."

"She's been a delight to have," Amelia said, easily falling into the pattern of compliment and politics. There was never a simple conversation to be had when the Greengrass parents were involved. Every word, every look, every sound had a double meaning or perhaps a triple, depending on how hard one looked. The adults slowly left the room leaving Harry still standing exactly as he'd been when speaking to Cyril.

"Harry?" Daphne asked, reaching out to take his hand. She quirked a brow as she felt the ring on his finger but decided that it wasn't the time to ask.

"I have the distinct feeling that I should apologize to your aunt, Susan," he said, suddenly.

"You haven't done anything to apologize for, Harry."

"No," he agreed nodding his head slowly. He turned and gave them a tight grin, the anger still visible in the hard chips of emerald his eyes had become. "But I think I might before the nights over."

#####

Dinner was a friendly, cheerful affair. Conversation flowed naturally about most of the table with the girls discussing classes and most of the adults talking about various bits of news and matters of government.

"… no I don't think it's too harsh, Cyril. Muggle baiting is a crime and these idiots that go out and cause trouble should be slapped down to the fullest extent of the law."

"You can't really consider this a serous crime, Amelia."

"I can, and I do. It's a risk to the statute of secrecy and it's just cruel."

"…I'll show you the wand movement after dinner," Hermione told Daphne. "It's really a rather simple charm, just the wand work is tricky and that's what Professor Flitwick said trips most people up."

Of the people at the table only Harry and the Grangers ate in relative silence.

"Not having a good time, Harry?" Emma asked, leaning closer to him as they moved onto desert.

"I'm having a great time," he assured her. "I'm just… observing. I've never had a Christmas dinner before." The smile her gave her was wide and infectious and she couldn't help smiling in return even as she felt a stab of pain in her chest thinking of what the polite and unassuming child seated next to her had been denied.

"It's fantastic to be a part of this," he added. "Almost like having a family." With that, he turned away and tucked into his treacle tart, ignorant of the sad looks that several people turned in his direction.

After dinner the nine of them made their way to the parlor where Harry stared, once again, at the black grand piano for a moment before he tore his eyes away and grabbed himself a butterbeer and a book on defense spells that he'd received as a Christmas gift from Hermione. He dropped into a plush armchair and made himself comfortable before he cracked open his book and quickly lost himself in it.

"What do you think of him?" Cyril asked Amelia in a quiet tone as the adults sat and watched their respective children. Susan and Daphne were sitting together on a small love seat, their heads together as they conversed quietly while Harry and Hermione both had their noses buried in a book.

"From what I've seen, he's an amazing and powerful kid. He's definitely got his share of demons, but I think, with the right support, he'll be more than able to overcome them." She absently fingered the locket that hung from its chain around her neck and smiled. "And for a kid, he's an extremely smooth operator." She laughed at the expressions the other parents gave her. "Ask your daughters about the gifts he got them," was all she would say.

After a few moments Cyril decided to press forward. "And what of this… relationship? I mean, three girls? Is that not going to cause trouble of its own?"

"I was wondering about that, too," Dan muttered and he leaned closer to join in the conversation. "I'm really not sure I like the idea of my daughter being stuck in this… whatever it is."

"You wouldn't be able to understand," Cyril snapped before Amelia could say anything. "You're just a muggle."

"I may be 'just a muggle'," Dan snapped back, not giving an inch, "but Emma and I are pretty damn smart. Instead of judging why don't you try explaining? Since its outside our experience we'd love to learn more about it."

"Cyril, I think you should stop," Amelia murmured as the air around them started to feel heavy.

"Mister Granger, you do not understand magic. You have no frame of reference and little ability to comprehend its intricacies. Kindly keep your nose out of this and leave it to your betters to discuss the situation."

"Really, Cyril. Anytime you want to stop talking would be good." A low crackling sound started to hum through the air.

"Our betters? You really think you're better than us just because you can do magic?"

"One cannot deny facts."

"Cyril Greengrass, shut _up!_ "

Cyril finally turned his attention from the growing argument he'd been having with Dan to look to Amelia on his other side. He only made it half way there since the moment his gaze swept across the room he found his attention riveted by a dark figure sitting in an overstuffed armchair directly across from him.

Glowing green eyes seemed to pierce him from across the room as Harry Potter peered over the top of his book.

"Daphne told me that the Greengrass family never supported Voldemort in the war," he said in a cool, even tone. Harry ignored the various flinches from those raised in the wizarding world and slowly closed his book, setting it on a table next to his chair. "I'm not certain, now, if she was lying to me or if she was fooled into thinking that."

"You have no idea what you're talking about, boy," Cyril ground out, almost seeming to bite off the words.

The girl's winced as a white hot needle of rage tore across their bond and Harry's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Do not, ever, call me 'boy '," he snarled. "The only people that call me that I would gladly see lying dead in a ditch somewhere." Cyril felt his mouth grow dry as the feeling of raw magic in the room slowly increased.

"Be that as it may, you still know nothing of my House," he sniffed, disdainfully.

Harry cocked his head to the side slightly, considering the older wizard carefully for a moment. "I know what Daphne, Susan, and Neville have told me. House Greengrass has long been considered a grey or neutral family. Never actively giving support to one side of a conflict or another. You run an import/export business that you grew from your fathers modest company to one of the largest in the muggle world and the absolute largest in the wizarding. Your contacts overseas and with customs agents makes you a sought after individual for some of the less reputable members of society and a lot of pressure was placed on your family, and by extension you in the last war. Even though you were relatively young at the time, you'd networked well while at Hogwarts.

"You also held a seat on the Wizengemont, giving you influence to block or support laws that could help or hinder people of muggle birth. I know that Voldemort's supporters pushed a lot of the anti-muggleborn laws that we have now. I know Voldemort's sick dogma. I read, Mister Greengrass. Finding out I'm famous for defeating some powerful dark wizard was a shock and I've read everything I could find on him since being reintroduced to the wizarding world."

Amelia, Danyella, and Cyril all stared at Harry in open mouthed shock even as the three girls regarded him carefully. He was remarkably well informed, something in direct counterpoint to the knowledge that he had only been a part of the wizarding world for less than half a year after being raised by muggles.

"The drivel you were just spouting sounds to me a lot like the crap that Voldemort was selling. Muggles are inferior to wizards. Purity of blood is all important. Blah, blah, blah," Harry sneered, the contempt and disgust clear in his voice. "Here you are, telling the Grangers that they couldn't possibly understand something because they're 'just muggles' and to 'leave it to your betters'. That is precisely the crap Voldemort spewed. So which is it, Mister Greengrass? Are you a good man, as your daughter says you are? Or did you really support the last Dark Lord's ideals even if you didn't do so publicly?"

Cyril glowered at the slip of a boy in front of him and his fingers twitched but he resisted the urge to reach for his wand. It wouldn't do to be seen attacking the Boy-Who-Lived in front of the Head of the DMLE, plus, he was only a boy. It really wouldn't be charitable to attack him despite his unfounded accusations.

"Amelia," he said in a clipped tone, his face impassive. "I would like to thank you for your gracious hospitality and a lovely meal this evening. Your home, as always, is as lovely and welcoming as I've come to expect. Since it was previously agreed that Daphne would spend the entirety of the holiday here, is it safe to assume this is still true, or is the daughter of a Greengrass no longer welcome in this house?"

"Don't you take that tone with me, Cyril. I'm not the one you insulted. That being said, Daphne is always welcome here, even if it were not for the presence of Mister Potter. She and Susan have become good friends and I would love to see them continue that relationship."

"Danyella, let's go."

He said nothing more and simply stood and strode from the room. His wife quickly said her goodbyes and gave her daughter a quick kiss on the cheek before she followed her husband from the room. A minute later they heard a small bell ring, signaling that the Floo had been used.

All eyes turned back to Harry who had, once again, buried his nose in his new defense book and was ignorant of their stares. The eerie light was gone from his eyes and the air felt almost cool after the oppressive weight of magic that had so recently filled the room.

It wasn't much longer after that when the children were sent off to bed. Hugs and kisses were the norm as Hermione and Susan said good night to their respective guardians and Harry and Daphne slipped away, neither having such people present at the time.

"I'm sorry about that," Harry muttered as the two of them made their way to the stairs. "I didn't mean to ruin everything."

"You didn't ruin anything, Harry. He did." She sighed disconsolately. "I feel I should apologize. He really is a good man. He's just…" she sighed again and shrugged. "I don't know."

"You shouldn't apologize for other peoples actions. You don't control him and you have no responsibility for how he chooses to behave." Harry shrugged.

"He's my father," she said, as if that explained everything.

Harry shrugged again. "I wouldn't know anything about that," he muttered. "I've never known my father." Daphne came to an abrupt halt, a stricken expression on her face.

After a dozen more steps, Harry stopped and sighed, his head falling back so he was looking up at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely reaching her. "That must have sounded terrible. Do you… do you love your father, Daphne?"

"Of course I do."

"The only male parental figure I've ever known is my Uncle. I used to make apologies for his behavior all the time. Not to other people of course. No, keep the freak hidden, that was the standard. But I made apologies to myself. Lying in the dark in my cu- in my room. I'd make apologies. I'd try to explain away his behavior. Make excuses. I messed up. I did something wrong. I ruined something."

He lowered his head and turned slightly to look at her out of the corner of one eye. "I don't make excuses for him anymore. I don't apologize for him. Happy Christmas, everyone." He opened the door to his room and slipped inside as Daphne turned to find Susan and Hermione standing behind her, pained expressions on both their faces as well.

"Happy Christmas, Harry," she muttered.

#####

After the children left, Dan, Emma, and Amelia sat for a few minutes, sipping their drinks and otherwise experiencing an awkward silence that none seemed to quite know how to break.

"I'm very glad that you accepted my invitation to join us this evening," Amelia finally said. "I apologize for the unpleasantness, but I'd like to assure you that no one in my family feels as Cyril apparently does. I thought I knew him better than that, to be honest." She was playing nervously with her mug of hot chocolate, spinning it on the table in front of her.

"It's not your fault he decided to act like a git," Dan assured her. "We don't blame you in the slightest."

"I am curious, though," Emma said. "Is that kind of thinking common in your world?"

Amelia winced and sighed. "Unfortunately it is far more common than I'd like. And his behavior was honestly rather tame in comparison to some." She leaned back in her chair and called for Binky. "Binky, could you bring us a bottle of Ogden's?" she asked. "I think we're going to need it."

"Of course, Mistress Bonesy," he squeaked and popped away leaving a gobsmacked pair of Grangers behind, staring at the space he had just occupied.

"What was that?" Dan asked.

"Hmmm? Oh, that was Binky, the Bones family house elf."

"And what, exactly, is a house elf?" Emma prodded.

"They're an interesting race of magical creatures," Amelia explained. "No one really knows how many there are or where they came from or anything like that. But an elf binds him or herself to a family and serves them. Binky cleans and cooks and basically looks after the house and Susan and I."

"Binds?"

"Yes. A house elf is bound to serve the family they are bound to. Yes, it's a form of slavery that I find rather distasteful for the most part," she added when she saw the looks on the Grangers faces. "The thing is though, that house elves are symbiotic to witches and wizards. They need to either, live in a place with a lot of residual magic, like at Hogwarts, or they need to be bound to a family or they'll lose their magic and die. The more powerful the witch or wizard they're bound to, the more powerful the elf is.

"Some families treat their house elves abhorrently, but there's no laws to prevent it. The Bones family and many others I know of, have always tried to treat our house elves with respect and courtesy, and not as property."

"You knew what we were going to ask?" Emma noted and Amelia smiled.

"When Hermione met Binky the other day it ended up starting a rather interesting conversation," she said with a grin that was mirrored by the Grangers. Indeed, Hermione had been incensed when she'd learned that house elves were basically slaves to the family they worked for. It had taken a bit of fast talking to get the girl to understand the symbiotic nature of the relationship between a house elf and their family, but Amelia had eventually gotten through to her, with Daphne and Susan helping.

There was a quiet pop and a bottle filled with an amber colored liquid and three glasses appeared on the table. She quickly poured a reasonable measure into the three glasses and handed each Granger one with a brief warning. "This is fire whiskey," she said. "It has some unusual effects but it's harmless, other than being strongly alcoholic. The first few sips you'll probably breathe a bit of fire, but it's nothing to worry about, I assure you."

They sipped their drinks for a moment, and indeed, both Grangers breathed out small tongues of flames with the first couple of gulps which Emma found fascinating. Eventually they settled in and Amelia prepared herself for an unpleasant discussion.

"So, I think we need to get a better grounding on things," Dan finally said. "We only got a very brief explanation from Dumbledore, years ago, about the wizarding world and this situation with Hermione appears to have become a lot more complicated than we were originally told."

"True, complicated is one word for it," Amelia muttered and took another sip of her drink. "What did you want to know first?"

"Why don't we start with that Cyril bloke?" Dan suggested. "I'd really like to get a better idea of what we're likely to expect from other witches and wizards if he's a not uncommon example."

Amelia nodded. "Fair enough. The important thing to remember is that in reality the wizarding world is probably a century or two behind the muggle world as far as societal and technological advancement. We still use candles and quills and parchment, as you've no doubt noticed. Aside from that, the laws and rules are very Victorian in a lot of regards as well. Status and family lineage plays a large part in many aspects of our society.

"There are three main classifications that people fall under. Pureblood, meaning the witch or wizard has magical parents, usually going back at least a handful of generations with no muggle or non-magical family. Susan, Daphne and I are all pureblood. Then there's halfbloods, like Harry. His father was from a very old pureblood family, but his mother was a first generation which, like Hermione. Both her parents were muggles with no magic of their own."

Dan and Emma nodded, showing that they were following along.

"Then there's muggleborn, like Hermione. You're already aware of that classification as just a witch or wizard born to muggle parents. The problem becomes with how our government is set up and how power and wealth in our society is distributed. Harry's family is what is known as a Most Ancient and Nobel House. That means that his family has been entirely magical going back more than a hundred generations. Harry is, in fact, known as Lord Potter due to his family titles.

"Most of the Wizengamont are made up of old families like his and a lot of them have a very strict idea of how things should be run and who is acceptable in polite society." She said 'polite society' with a touch of disgust in her tone and paused to take another sip of her drink. "There are many old purebloods with some extremely bigoted and stupid views. Halfbloods and muggleborn are seen as being inferior somehow. Particularly muggleborn. Some even have presented the absolutely ridiculous idea that muggleborns must somehow be stealing magic from purebloods since in the last couple of centuries the number of squibs born to pureblood families has been rising just as there has been an increase in muggleborn witches and wizards."

"Squib?" Dan asked, unfamiliar with the word.

"The opposite of a muggleborn. A person born without magic but who has magical parents," she explained.

"So there are a lot of people, even people in charge of the government, that are going to be looking down on our daughter just because her parents don't have magic?" Dan growled.

"I'm afraid so. A lot of muggleborns tend to leave the magical world after school since it's difficult for them here."

"This is all sounding less and less like something we would like Hermione being involved with," Emma admitted.

"Which I completely agree with," Amelia hastened to say. "But I'm sorry to tell you that there really isn't much you can do about it."

"And why is that? We could just pull her out of school. There's no reason for her to have to deal with that kind of crap."

"It's not that simple, unfortunately. First of all, before fifth year if a muggleborn wants to leave school the laws are written so that they would have their magic bound and have their and their families memories modified so that they won't remember that magic actually exists. The problem with that is that a lot of them still can feel that there's something missing in their lives and they go on to live a rather miserable existence. Some have even committed suicide."

Dan and Emma stared at her in absolute horror at that thought.

"Aside from that, she's bound, magic and soul to Harry, Daphne, and Susan. Taking her away from them would hurt all four of them in ways we can't even begin to predict."

"And you're fine with this? Some kid has _three_ girls magically tied to him like that slave of an elf is to your family and you're just okay with it all?"

Amelia glared at Daniel Granger and he met her gaze without flinching. "I'm beginning to understand some of what Cyril was ranting about," she muttered. "Don't get me wrong, he was a git and incredibly rude, but he wasn't entirely wrong in that you lack the frame of reference here so please, try to do me a favor and not jump to conclusions until I have a chance to explain."

"Daniel, sit back and take a breath," Emma snapped. "This all seems pretty awful, yes, but can you honestly picture Amelia being happy with what you described? She obviously loves her niece and I'm sure wouldn't react favorably to what you think is happening. Obviously there's more to the story, so let her finish."

The glare she directed at her husband promised retribution if he didn't cooperate and he sank back in his seat, taking a large gulp of his drink as he did.

Amelia took a deep breath and let it out slowly, taking a moment to organize her thoughts. "Look, I can understand how strange and frightening this all must be. I don't think less of you but you are muggles with little experience with magic, More experience, more exposure to it might help you understand better. For right now I'm just going to explain, as much as I can, and try to give you a better understanding of this situation with Harry and your daughter, as well as Daphne and Susan. Please, ask questions if you need, but try not to jump to conclusions, all right?"

Dan and Emma nodded, Dan seeming properly chastised for his reaction but he still didn't like it and hoped for a damn good explanation.

Amelia took another sip of her drink, trying to figure out where to start. "Okay," she said, finally. "Let's start at the beginning here. Do you have any idea _how_ Hermione ended up bonded to Harry?"

"No. When that Dumbledore fellow came and explained it to us he said he had no idea how it could have happened since she didn't have any friends really and was far too young, according to him."

Amelia nodded. "Normally that would be true, but things around Harry seem to have a tendency to lean toward the strange and unusual." She refilled their glasses and leaned back in her chair. "This really all starts long before the kids were born. About twenty years ago, give or take, there was a wizard. An incredibly powerful, dark, and evil wizard that went by the name, Lord Voldemort."

"That's the name Harry mentioned, when he was ripping that berk a new one," Emma interrupted and Amelia nodded, grinning at her description.

"Right. Voldemort terrorized the wizarding and muggle worlds, killing and destroying, basically unchecked. His power was immense, and terrible, and he gathered an army of like minded sycophants as followers that he called Death Eaters. We were in a full blown civil war, fighting against Voldemort and with no idea who his followers were, since they wore masks. He had people placed in our government and in other high positions of power that further hindered efforts to fight him. We were losing, badly. On Halloween night, in 1981, Voldemort went to kill some people that had fought and defied him multiple times, something he couldn't allow to stand. Those people were James and Lilly Potter."

The Grangers both started at the names and Amelia nodded, a grim expression on her face.

"Yes, Harry's parents were targeted for death by Voldemort himself. He was so powerful, so terrifying that, even today, most people in wizarding society are afraid to say his name. They call him You-Know-Who, or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. When he decided to kill you, there was usually no escape from him.

"So, on Halloween night, Voldemort went to the home where the Potters were staying in hiding. The house was hidden by a charm that should have made it impossible for him to find, but they were betrayed and the secret of their location was given to Voldemort. No one truly knows what happened that night, but in the end Lilly and James Potter were dead but Harry was still alive and Voldemort was destroyed.

"When children go to Hogwarts they are sorted into one of the four houses by an old hat. The sorting hat explained to the children what happened in a little more detail that night so here's what Susan told me about it. According to the hat, after killing his parents, Voldemort turned his wand on baby Harry. He cast a curse, one of three that are collectively known as Unforgivables in our world. Using even one on another human carries with it an immediate life sentence in Azkaban, the wizarding prison. The killing curse struck Harry on the forehead, causing that lightning bolt shaped scar, but for some reason no one understands, it failed to kill him. Something no one has _ever_ survived, failed to kill a fifteen month old child. The curse rebounded and destroyed Voldemort and, according to the hat, it tore Harry's soul apart.

"The curse ripped three pieces of his soul from his body but the pieces couldn't rejoin him for some reason. Instead they went searching for someone that could house and protect them, keeping his soul alive, if not intact. They found what they were looking for in those three girls. Since that night, Harry has become known as the Boy-Who-Lived, and is probably one of the most famous wizards in the world because of what happened."

"That seems like quite a burden to place on a childs shoulders," Emma pointed out. "I mean, he wouldn't even be able to remember something that happened when he was that young. He wouldn't have any better of an idea what actually happened than anyone else would but people… what, idolize him for something he has no memory of?"

Amelia grimaced and nodded. "Yes, I've tried to teach Susan not to pay attention to that type of thing. Most people in the wizarding world have no idea who Harry really is. They see him as a symbol, rather than a person."

"Wait," Emma held up a hand, her brow furrowed in thought. "You said that the only one to survive was Harry, and he was just a baby back then?"

Amelia nodded.

"Then how did this hat know about the curse and how his soul split and all that?"

Amelia nodded, again. "That's a good, legitimate question. The hat does the sorting by sifting through the students minds. Basically looking over their life and examining their personality to decide what House they would be best suited for. Harry may not consciously remember what happened that night. But he was there, and he saw it. I can only imagine that is how the hat was able to piece together what it told them."

"That's all awful, and I'm sorry the poor kid has to deal with that, but what does it have to do with this situation?" Dan asked, carefully keeping his tone calm.

"Not a lot, really, other than explaining how this all got started. Now, when the kids arrived at Hogwarts back in September, they went through their sorting, as I mentioned previously. Susan tells me that the sorting hat refused to sort the girls as their names were called and waited until Harry was called up. When he did, it told him that it needed to sort all four of them at once, and when they were all under the hat it instructed them to touch Harry's skin. Susan and Hermione each held one of his hands and Daphne touched the back of his neck.

"When all four of them were connected, with Harry in the center, their souls mingled together, further enhancing their bond. Up until that point all three girls had a piece of Harry's soul, but he didn't have a part of theirs. So right now, Harry has a piece of all three girls souls inside him, and the girls all have a piece of the other three. Your daughter holds a part of her own soul as well as Harry's Daphne's, and Susan's.

"When you said that Harry had three girls bound to him, that's not entirely true. They're all four, equally bound to each other. Harry is just as tied to them as they are to him. Yes, it's strange, and it's unusual and frightening for us as their parents or guardians, but I assure you, keeping the four of them together is only ever going to be a good thing, for them."

The Grangers considered that, sipping their drinks in silence as they thought over everything they'd been told.

"Okay," Dan said finally. "Long run, what does this all _mean_ for them, for all four of them?"

Amelia sighed. "No one can really say, to be honest. The bond gives them a few things that can help them with their relationship to each other. They can feel each others pain and emotions, as I'm sure you noticed over the years with Hermione. Did you notice earlier, when Cyril called Harry 'boy', all three girls reacted rather sharply?"

Emma nodded, her eyes thoughtful as she looked back over her memories of the night. "Yes, all three of them kind of winced. I thought they just new that he said something wrong, do you mean there was more to it?"

"Much more. I don't entirely understand how this all works, but from what Susan has told me over the years, I'd be willing to bet that in that moment, they felt Harry's anger toward Cyril. That's what made them wince. Not the words, but the feeling that bled over to them from him through the bond that they share."

"So if one of them is ever hurt, or in trouble, the others will be able to feel it?"

"Exactly. As the bond grows and strengthens they may even be able to find each other using it. There are many stories of gifts or special abilities that develop in bonded couples, though little factual investigation, so we really are only guessing how things could progress for them."

Dan blew out his breath in an explosive sigh and muttered quietly, "okay, I apologize for my earlier statement. I understand they're not slaves or being forced into this, really. But seriously, how is this all supposed to work? Harry and three girls?"

Amelia shifted a bit in her seat. "Again, I'm not sure. I have some ideas, but nothing grounded in fact."

"We'll take theories over no idea at all," Emma pleaded. "Ever since we found out about magic life has been insane for us. Hermione spent years focusing on this boy that she didn't even know. She never made any friends at school. She was teased and harassed constantly because of her single minded approach to learning. Our daughter hasn't had a horrible life, not like what we suspect Harry has been through, but it hasn't been easy for her either. We just want to be sure that she's not going to be hurt here."

Amelia leaned forward and squeezed Emma's hand where it rested on the table in front of her. "I can understand that entirely. Susan is my only living family. I adopted her after her parents, my brother and his wife were murdered after the war. She's all I have so believe me when I say that I am just as concerned as you are. I just have a better grounding in magic to help me come to terms with everything."

She leaned back again and took up her drink. "I see two possibilities in the future for them. The first strikes me as the least likely but it's still possible so I'll include it. Option one: Nothing really happens with them. They remain close friends for the rest of their lives. The girls have been working on helping Harry to heal and grow from the traumas he's experienced and he has become fiercely protective of them. In fact, he's already saved both Susan's and Daphne's lives since they started school."

"Wait, what?" Dan interrupted. "We haven't heard about any of this."

"During an early flying lesson, Susan slipped from one of the decrepit old brooms they use in the class. She was fifty feet in the air and is normally an extremely good flyer, I made sure she learned early on. But she fell, and Harry caught her, injuring himself in the process." She leaned forward, again, and fixed an intense stare on the Granger parents. "He did that after barely knowing the girls for a few weeks. And on Halloween, apparently, a mountain troll got into the school somehow, that's still being investigated, but Daphne was placed in danger. Harry ran in with no concern for his own safety and jumped onto the thing's back to try and distract it from crushing Daphne.

"Twelve feet tall, dumb as a box of rocks, and filled with rage and the urge to destroy, and that kid physically attacked it. Harry has shown that he's willing to place himself in danger to keep those girls safe. He was even injured somewhat seriously when he fought the troll. He actually managed to kill the thing, something most fully matured wizards or witches would have some difficulty with, and he ended up receiving several broken bones and even bruised internal organs in the process. He very likely could have died, but he didn't hesitate to leap into danger to protect one of the girls."

Dan and Emma hadn't heard about that, and really didn't know what to think. They did feel they were going to have to have a serious discussion with their daughter thought about what she left out of her letters home.

"Wait, is it normal for there to be so many dangerous situations at that school? I mean, in the first two months he had to save _two_ peoples lives?"

"No, it's not that normal, to be honest. But you also have to consider that, aside from the unusual circumstances, even in a normal year, a school full of children, working with magic is sometimes a volatile situation. That's why the school Healer is a fully licensed and accredited Healer as opposed to just a simple nurse as it is with most muggle schools. Madam Pomfrey is actually one of the most skilled Healers in all of Britain, and would normally be working at St. Mungos Hospital. In fact, they've tried to poach her away from the school several times, but she loves working with the children and refuses to leave."

"Okay," Dan muttered. "Okay, all right, so that's option one, they're going to be the absolute best of friends for the rest of their lives. There's no escaping that, no matter what, so what's option two in this?"

"For that, I need to give a little more backstory, and again, please keep an open mind, try not to jump to conclusions, and stay calm."

Dan and Emma exchanged another look. "You're really not filling us with confidence here, Madam Bones," Emma sighed.

"I don't mean to worry you, but like I said, this whole situation is unique and I do not use that word lightly. A Soul Bond between two people, that's happened. Little is written about it really, since all those couples that have been a part of one of these bonds find that they have difficultly explaining it or talking about it to others. It's an extremely private and personal experience for them. In the children's case here, there are _four_ of them, all bonded to each other. That has, quite literally, never happened in the whole of human history, as far as we are aware.

"Did Dumbledore explain the difference between soul mates and a Soul Bond?"

"There's more? Seriously?" Dan lifted his drink, and, in dumbfounded silence, gulped down the remainder.

"I'll take that as a 'no' and add that to my list of reasons to strangle that old man with his own bloody beard," Amelia growled under her breath. "Okay. The soul mate connection is a lesser thing than a Soul Bond. Soul mates are two people who's magic and souls are perfectly attuned to each other, I'm sure he mentioned that much?" They nodded. "That's good at least. The problem is that soul mates do not always end up romantically entangled. More often than not, they do, but not always by any means. Whether they do or not, once they've met they still always end up being a part of each others lives until they die."

"Right, Dumbledore said there was no reason to think they would be in a romantic relationship by default."

"That's for soul _mates_ , though," Amelia pointed out, emphasizing the word 'mates'. "What these four have is a Soul _Bond_. That is a much closer relationship, and as far as any records indicate not one case of a Soul Bond has ended in anything other than the couple being quite happily married until the day they died."

Dan took several deep breaths, his fists clenched on the table in front of him. "I think I need another drink," he muttered and Amelia reached out and poured for him.

"Look, we really just need a simple explanation here," Emma practically pleaded.

Amelia gave them a sympathetic look before she continued. "As far as I can tell, option one isn't going to happen. I seriously doubt those girls have any intention whatsoever of simply remaining friends forever with Harry. So option two is they do end up involved romantically. And that's were the nature of this bond comes in. If it was just the three girls bonded to Harry, well it'd still be likely they'd all want to be with him. But the nature of the relationship would be different.

"Harry went to Gringotts the other day to ask about his family accounts. While speaking with his family accounts manager Harry took up his status as Head of House Potter making him a legally emancipated minor in the wizarding world. Part of the reason he was _able_ to take up that status was because as far as Magic itself is concerned, and as far as their bond is concerned, Harry is betrothed to the three girls. It's a magically and legally binding betrothal." Amelia poured again and let that sink in for a moment. "Dumbledore explained how the bond is finalized?"

They nodded, but said nothing. Emma's hand was shaking slightly and Amelia was glad she hadn't filled the glass very high.

"They could complete the bond with a simple kiss. Sealing their bond and stabilizing it. As soon as they do, documents will appear through Gringotts and the Ministry to signify that they are legally married. Those documents won't go into affect, though until the marriage is recognized by them. Specifically by Harry acknowledging them as his wives in front of witnesses."

"And what about the girls?" Dan demanded. "They're supposed to share one man? How would that even work? Is that even legal?" He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. He propped his elbows o n the table in front of him and let his head drop into his hands. "I'm really trying not to jump to conclusions here. And I'm really trying _not_ to think about my twelve-year-old daughter being _married._ But the more I hear, the more it sounds like she's heading for a loveless marriage to a guy that won't be able to appreciate her, or the other girls, as they should be. Please, tell me you have some good news?"

"Believe me, I've had all of those same thoughts," she told them, sympathetically, "and I think I've worked out what is most likely to happen."

"Which is?" Emma prompted.

"Well, once again it comes down to the nature of the bond itself. Keep in mind this is all conjecture on my part, but if it was simply the three girls bonded to Harry, they would eventually fall in love with him and he with them. They would likely see each other as sisters or something close to that."

"But?" Dan prompted.

"But since they're all bonded to each other… I find it very likely that in the future the girls are going to end up having romantic feelings for each other as well as Harry. They're not just soul mates bonded to him, they're soul mates and bonded to each other as well." Amelia's tone was hesitant and she tried to break the news as gently as she could. She was well aware that the muggle world had some archaic views on same sex relationships and had no idea what the Granger parents thought of such things.

Dan and Emma both blinked, surprised and leaned back in their seats.

"That never even occurred to me," Emma admitted. "I suppose it should have when you said they were all bonded together in the same way instead of just the girls bonded to Harry alone."

Amelia began to feel hopeful. Emma didn't _sound_ terribly upset by the concept.

"That doesn't bother you?" she asked.

Dan waved a hand as if batting away a pesky fly. "No, we don't have any prejudices over that kind of thing. It's not something either of us ever considered but we've always been of the mindset that what two people want to do together is no ones business but their own, as long as everyone's happy and no one is being forced or hurt in the process."

Amelia wasn't able to contain the sigh of relief she let out when she heard that. "Thank Merlin," she muttered. "Honestly, I think that was the part I was most worried about here," she admitted.

Emma arched a brow, or tried to, the whiskey was really starting to hit and she realized that she couldn't feel her face. "Girls being together worries you but one man marrying multiple girls doesn't?"

Amelia shrugged. "I don't mind same sex couples in the slightest. Again, it all goes back to the old pureblood laws in our society." She swirled the inch or so of liquid that remained in her glass. "Harry is the Head of an Ancient and Nobel house," she said. "Since he's the _last_ living member of that House, in our society, for him, the continuing of his family line is paramount. I'm sure he doesn't know anything about that yet, and is obviously too young to give it much consideration, really. But it will eventually become something he'll need to consider.

"Since he needs to continue his line, wizarding law has it that legally he can have at least two wives, in order to increase the chances of siring a male heir to continue the family name." She almost laughed at the dumbstruck expressions on the Grangers faces. "But that's not anything to worry about any time soon." She drained her glass and set it down. "We can discuss this more another time, and I was thinking, since I managed to get a waiver to get your house attached to the Floo network just to my home here, you are welcome to come over any time. Even when the kids return to school. I think it might do you some good to get yourself a little more exposure to the wizarding world and to magic in general. It requires a magical person to operate though, but if you call for Binky whenever you'd like to come over he'll hear you and can inform me so Ican pop over and bring you through.

"I can only imagine it feels like you're losing your daughter to a world you know nothing about and can't join her in, but I want to assure you that I won't let that happen. Whatever happens with those four, whether they remain friends, Harry marries the girls or they all marry each other, I've the feeling we're going to be around each other for a very long time, and I'd like it if we could build a friendship of our own. Besides," she added with a smirk, "it'll be nice to have some people to talk to that aren't pre-pubescent."

Dan and Emma chuckled quietly and readily agreed to coming over to visit with Amelia as often as their schedules would permit. Considering the amount they'd had to drink, Amelia decided to invite them to stay the night, which they also happily agreed to.

Before turning in for the night she turned to them one last time.

"This whole situation isn't going to become something simple and manageable overnight, but I assure you, that as far as the relationship between your daughter and the rest of her bonded is concerned, there's no reason for worry. They'll work things out on their own, eventually, and decide how they all fit together. The only caution I can think of is that you might not want to discuss any of this with the children themselves."

"Why's that?" Emma asked as Dan leaned against the wall next to the door to the room they would be sleeping in.

Amelia shrugged, annoyed that she couldn't really explain the thought, but she'd learned to trust her instincts. "I just feel like, if they know ahead of time that they're already betrothed and going to be married as soon as they finalize their bond, that may color how they look at the bond itself and their relationship. I think that they should come to whatever realizations await them naturally, on their own without maybe trying to force or pull back from it. That could potentially cause it's own damage.

"When Harry met with his accounts manager he found out about the betrothals. I admit that I talked him out of telling the girls about it right now because I didn't want any of them feeling pressured and told him to put it from his mind and just worry about school and being with them and with his friends as he worked on getting himself right."

"I'm not certain I agree with that," Emma muttered as the floor tilted crazily under her and she reached out to place one hand on the door jam. "But right now I'm not in any condition to argue. We'll talk about it another time?"

Amelia nodded and wished them a good night as Emma grabbed her husband and dragged him into the room. Feeling immensely better about herself, Amelia went on to her own room, changed quickly, and slipped into bed.

Just before she drifted off her fingers found the locket around her neck and a melancholy smile curved her lips as sleep claimed her.

 **Authors Note the 2: Yes, I know. Giving Hermione a book bag is terribly cliched, but honestly I couldn't think of something more for her this early in the game. They're still getting to know each other and there are going to be plenty of shared secrets and experiences moving forward that will help shape future gifts and their interactions with each other.**

 **Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter and please, feel free to leave a review if you've got something to say.**

 **Adios gang.**


	10. Chapter 09 and three quarters

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: So here we go, this is sort of a chapter 9.5 as opposed to a real full chapter. I'm still working on the rest of the story, and originally this whole thing wasn't planned. After publishing chapter 9 I found that I am so thrilled by the reviews, follows, and favorites, that I wanted to give you guys another quick little update, just for fun.**

 **This whole chapter is mentioned in passing in the next chapter, but again, I hadn't actually written it out until today when I decided to put thought to paper, so to speak.**

 **Also, I wanted to say that I may not personally respond to a lot of reviews but I do try and I love every review received, even those that disagree with something I've done or question something I'm trying to do in the story. It all reinforces to me how invested you guys are in this story and I can't tell you how thrilled I am with the response this story has gotten.**

 **Thanks you guys, and here ya go.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing. Please no sue. Thank you.**

Soul Scars

By,

Rtnwriter

The cold pressed in from all sides and he shivered. He wasn't sure he even had a body, but he still shivered. The darkness was so complete that he couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. Couldn't tell if he even had eyes to see with.

 _I don't want to see this._

There was nothing to see, but still, he knew what was coming.

"Step aside, silly girl!"

 _No, I don't want to see this, I don't want to hear it, not again. Please, not again._

"Not Harry, please not Harry. Kill me instead."

He knew that voice. He had no other memory of her voice, but he knew it. Cold red eyes burned in the darkness, filled with a mad glee as a flash of green light ended the pleading voice.

"Harry Potter," he hissed. Harry looked up from his tiny hands clutching at the wooden railing of a crib, into the eyes of death.

"There is no way I will let you grow up to one day destroy me. This is where you meet your end, Harry Potter."

 _But I don't want to destroy you, I don't even know you._

He glanced down at the body lying on the floor nearby, vibrant red hair fanned out in a halo around her head.

 _Mummy?_

"Avada Kedavra."

Pain.

Pain unlike anything he could imagine. His forehead split and the blood began to flow as every part of his body erupted in the worst pain imaginable. His blood turned to acid, his bones to ash, fire raced along his nerve endings searing them over and over as something tore free, something was ripped from his very being.

A loud explosion overcame his senses and he was suddenly standing in the Entrance Hall at Hogwarts.

There was no pain. No blood. No explosion.

Only fear. Only the fear that he knew what was coming. It wasn't the first time he'd seen it.

Inexorably, his feet carried him toward the doors leading into the Great Hall. Massive doors, towering dozens of feet above him, they opened silently at a single touch of his hand. The house tables were empty, not a student present as he made his way down the wide aisle that separated to the two center tables.

At the top of the dais, behind the teachers table, a figure occupied the large golden colored chair that Dumbledore normally occupied. Cast in shadows, clad in black, little could be seen of the figure except for the gleaming red of his eyes.

"Did you really think me dead, boy? Did you really think that you, a mere child, could destroy the greatest wizard who has ever lived?"

 _But I didn't do anything. I don't remember…_

"Foolish child. I will come for you. I will have my vengeance, and I will start with those closest to you. I will take away everything that you love. I will destroy your world and leave you broken and shattered before I kill you with my own hands."

The figure's voice ended in a high shriek and with a wave of a wand the shadows behind him lifted and Harry stumbled back a step, his eyes wide in horror.

High on the wall behind the table, Daphne, Hermione and Susan were strung out, pinned to the stones by way of metal spikes driven through their bodies. Like bugs on a board they were splayed out, on display. Their bodies torn and ravaged. Tooth and claw marks, burns and bruises marked every inch of naked flesh.

Only their faces were unmarked, their eyes open, dark, without the spark of life in them yet those dim orbs seemed to pierce him, laying the blame at his feet for their fate.

 _No, no, no, no, it's not real. You're gone. You're DEAD!_

"I cannot die, boy. I am Death, and I cannot be stopped. Only delayed."

The dark figure lifted its wand and pointed it at Harry who stood frozen in terror and revulsion.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A roaring sound filled his ears as his vision filled with bright green light and Harry knew no more.

#####

"NO!"

Harry sat bolt upright in bed, fighting back the scream that wanted to follow. Panting, sweat soaked and filled with terror, his eyes swept the room around him, finding himself once again in the guest room at Bones Manor, where he'd slept for the last two weeks.

And just like every other night since he arrived, he'd had the same damn dream. The same nightmare fueled terror. He closed his eyes and delved deep reaching for the link he had to his girls, searching desperately for it, driven by panic and need.

He could feel them, their warm, comforting presence resting just at the edges of his mind. With an explosive sigh he flopped back onto the bed, staring up at the darkened canopy above and tried to calm his racing heart. Slowly, his breath evened out, and his heart rate dropped to something under that of a formula one race car. He closed his eyes and rolled over onto his side, shivering as he shoved the images from his dream aside and tried to go back to sleep.

Twenty minutes later he was standing in the hall, staring at a closed door. It was ridiculous. He knew it was ridiculous. They were fine. He could feel them through the bond they shared. They were safe, and content, and he couldn't help but feel terrified until he could see them with his own eyes.

Slowly, he reached out and turned the handle on the door, easing it open enough for him to slip into the room. Susan's room was similar to the guest room he occupied in furnishings and layout, but that was were the similarities ended. While the room he was staying in was spartan, and free of decoration, Susan's room felt lived in. A few pictures dotted her walls. Old stuffed animals lined a shelf above a desk and a set of bookshelves were filled to the brim.

There was a Quidditch poster for the Hollyhead Harpies stuck to one wall next to the large four poster bed which he ignored even as players swooped in and out of the frame on their brooms and bludgers and quaffles flitted back and forth.

He crept carefully over to the bed, making sure to make no sound, until he could see the sleeping figures huddled together, the comforter pulled up as far as their waists.

Susan lay on her left side, facing him, her deep red hair easily visible even in the dim light from the embers still burning low in the fireplace. Her free arm was wrapped around Hermione's waist, holding the smaller girl tightly against her, her bushy, untamed mane held back by a hair tie that exposed her face entirely. They both seemed so peaceful to him, their faces completely relaxed and calm in their sleep, unplagued by the terrors that kept him from his rest.

Behind Susan, Daphne lay on her right side, her back toward her bed partners, right arm bent under her head and her pillow somehow shoved up and out of the way. He quickly skirted around the bed so he could see her face, relieved to find her just as relaxed and content as Hermione and Susan.

His heart, which hadn't slowed down to a completely reasonable level since he woke, finally stopped pounding hard in his chest and he took a deep breath, tension easing from his body. With a final glance at the girls, he made his way out of the room and silently closed the door behind him.

"Harry?"

He jumped, once again biting back a strangled cry as he didn't want to disturb the girls, and spun to find Amelia standing in the open doorway of her own room, a light robe thrown over her dressing gown. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she leaned against the doorjamb, an inscrutable expression on her face. _How does she keep sneaking up on me?_ he wondered.

"I didn't do anything- I mean, I wasn't- I couldn't sleep and-"

"Harry," she interrupted him, "take a breath and calm down. I'm not upset with you, okay?"

He nodded rapidly, one hand clutched against his chest. She pushed off the doorjamb and started toward him, reaching out to place one comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Come on," she said. "Let's grab a cup and we can chat for a bit."

A part of him wanted to smile as her words so closely followed those she'd said the first morning he was there when she'd found him exploring the house at five in the morning, but a larger part was still worried about how she was going to respond to this situation. He let her direct him down the hall and to the stairs then through the ground floor until they entered the kitchen.

The coffee pot and tea kettle sat right where they always did and Harry stared blankly at them for a moment. "Does Binky ever sleep?" he asked and Amelia started laughing quietly.

"Yes, house elves sleep," she said. "Something about the nature of their magic, though, means they always know what their family needs. The better the relationship, the better they're able to anticipate their families needs and wants and react accordingly. I would imagine that Binky knew we were awake and his magic got him up and he was able to get this ready for us."

"What about the coffee? I'm just a guest."

Amelia smiled and shrugged. "I guess he must consider you a part of the family," she said and he stared at her in open mouthed shock for a moment before he shook himself back to reality and shrugged off the comment. There was no way she could be serious, so why worry about it? He grabbed a mug and poured himself a cup, going through his, now familiar, ritual of adding two sugars, stirring, then a dash of salt from the shaker, which still caused her to shake her head in bemusement.

"All right," Amelia muttered, giving in to her curiosity. "I've been wondering since your first morning here. Why on earth do you add salt, of all things, to your coffee? I may not be a coffee expert but I'm pretty sure salt isn't a standard addition to most people."

He stopped and blinked, looking, almost confused, at the salt shaker still in his hand before he laughed quietly and set it down. "I'm not really sure," he admitted. "Just a habit I got into sometime. It definitely changes the texture of the coffee, not so much the flavor if you don't put in a lot." Harry shrugged and walked over to sit at the table of what had quickly become his favorite room in the house.

They sat for a while, enjoying their drinks in companionable silence until Amelia finally cleared her throat, drawing his attention away from the coffee he'd been quietly contemplating and toward her.

"You've been getting up and checking on Susan at least three times a night, every single night since you arrived here," she told him and his mouth dropped open. "Don't try to deny it," she added before he could speak. "I'm not making any kind of accusations or anything, but there are wards around my and Susan's bedroom doors. Any time the door is opened, the wards warn me, as the person keyed into them and with control over them, so I know every time you go in there in the middle of the night."

"I'm not doing anything-" he started before she cut him off again.

"I figured that much out on my own, Harry. I'm guessing you're checking on her, making sure she's safe?"

He nodded, his eyes directed at the table again and a fierce flush staining his cheeks.

"Daphne and Hermione too?" she asked.

He nodded again.

"The thing that I can't figure out, is why? What reason do you have to think that she isn't safe, here, in her own home, with centuries old family wards protecting the entire property? I assure you, if anyone were to try to get in here to harm any of us, we would have warning long before they even got onto the lawn, much less inside the house."

He fidgeted nervously in his seat. "Just a bad feeling," he muttered keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the cup he held cradled between his hands.

"Harry, look at me, please?'

Reluctantly, he lifted his eyes to her. He'd been expecting her to be annoyed with him, at the least. What parent or guardian likes the idea of a boy sneaking into a young girls room in the middle of the night, whatever the reason? Instead, he saw sympathy and compassion in her eyes. He idly noted how closely the color matched Susan's, such a deep, vibrant blue that he'd never seen in anyone else. Their eyes alone would tell anyone that Susan and Amelia were related to each other.

"When Edgar and Naomi died, my brother and his wife," she added the last part, seeing the confusion on his face, "I took over as Susan's guardian. About a year later I formally adopted her. She's my niece by blood, but legally, she's my adopted daughter and I love her, very much. Strangely, I never had any trouble sleeping right after I took her in. It wasn't until after the adoption went through that I started having trouble getting through the night. I would wake up in the middle of the night, terrified, convinced that something was wrong, that she was hurt, or scared, or needed me.

"I'd check on her all the time, and every time she was always sound asleep and perfectly happy in her own bed." She paused and took a sip of her tea as Harry quietly observed her. "It took me a while, but eventually I was able to convince myself that she was okay, and I was able to sleep through the night again."

"How long did it take before you stopped worrying?"

She arched a brow at him over the rim of her cup. "Who says I did?"

He frowned in confusion. "But, you said you knew she was okay and didn't have to check on her anymore."

"Doesn't mean I stopped worrying. I'm a parent, Harry. I may not have carried her, or given birth to her, but I've raised her from a very young age. I've watched her grow into a bright, caring, and wonderful girl. I'm always going to worry about her, that's what parents do. But I also learned that I can't protect her all the time. I can't watch out for her every second of the day. That's part of why I am so happy that she has you with her at Hogwarts. You've already saved her life one time. Without you I would more than likely have buried my daughter and I can't begin to explain how indebted I am to you for that."

Harry shook his head. "Anyone would have, if they could," he insisted.

"I'm not so sure of that, but we'll agree to disagree, for now. Why don't you tell me what it is that has you checking on the girls so often?"

Harry's shoulders hunched in and his chin ducked toward his chest as he idly spun the empty coffee mug in front of him. "I've been dreaming," he whispered after a long silence where she simply observed him and waited patiently for him to open up.

"Dreaming?"

"Nightmares, really. Well, _nightmare._ It's always exactly the same, every single night."

"It might help to talk about it," she offered.

He started slowly, falteringly, but over time the entire story came out. "… And all I see is this flash of green light, and that's when I wake up, soaked in sweat, panting and my heart pounding like I've been sprinting flat out in some kind of demented race," he finished.

"And that's what has you worried and checking on them?" she asked.

He nodded. "It just feels so real, even though I know it isn't. I wake up and I know they're fine, I can feel them because of the bond. But I can't convince myself they're actually safe until I can see them with my own eyes."

Amelia nodded. "I think this might be a good time to return to an earlier topic," she said. "If you'll remember, on your first morning, here we briefly touched on the idea of you needing to talk about your life growing up before now, and the report I'll be needing for my investigation against your relatives?"

He nodded, feeling his coffee settling unpleasantly in his stomach.

"Well, I want to see about getting a healer to see you periodically. He'll try to help with whatever he can and he'll be the one you could talk to about everything if you're not comfortable doing so with me. I'm not sure how quickly I'd be able to arrange it, but it can only help you possibly with these nightmares, and just in general."

"You said I didn't have to, if I didn't want to," he pointed out and she nodded, humming quietly in agreement.

"I did say that. But, remember, I also said that if you don't, it'll make getting you away from your relatives that much harder, if not impossible." She reached out and took a hold of one of his hands. "I don't want you to have to relive whatever it is you've been through," she told him. "I know the girls don't want you to deal with it either. I can't begin to understand how difficult this entire idea must be for you and I won't insult either of our intelligence by pretending I can.

"You've heard it said already, but you have people that are on your side now, Harry. I'm on your side. Even if you weren't bonded to Susan, if I'd found out about this, I would still want to help you. No one deserves what's happened to you. Even not knowing the details, it's not difficult to tell that it was horrible, even if I didn't have Susan telling me what she was feeling from you over the years. You act like a wounded animal, always wary of everyone, waiting for someone to hurt you.

"You're emancipated, now, Harry. Once we get you, legally, out of that house, you'll find any number of families wanting to take you in, offer you a home. You'll get a lot of offers unless I miss my guess, and you'll be able to choose, for yourself, where you want to go. Isn't that worth the discomfort you'll have to deal with delving into the past? This decision was taken from you, letting others know about what happened but," she leaned forward, keeping an earnest expression on her face, "the end result is you'll have greater control over your life than you ever have before."

Harry hadn't considered that, and without thinking, his eyes dropped to the heavy ring adorning the middle finger of his right hand. He _was_ emancipated. He really needed to look more into what, entirely, that meant for him. If he had the option to choose, to decide for himself where he wanted to go, and this was the price he'd have to pay to have that choice… Amelia was right, it should be worth it.

It still stuck in his craw that he hadn't been able to choose for himself when, and how, to go about it, but for the freedom that was on offer he would deal with it. He wouldn't be happy with it and it definitely wouldn't be easy, but he would deal with it, just like he'd dealt with the years in that house.

"Do we have a guess what kind of time frame I might be looking at?" he whispered. "Like, when am I supposed to do this?"

Amelia shook her head. "Like I said, I'm not sure when I'll be able to arrange it, and there are other forces at work here that I don't want you to worry about. Please, let me do this for you, Harry. I'm not trying to control you or dictate your life for you, I'm just trying to help, and you can be sure that I really do have your best interests at heart."

He arched a brow at that. "How can I be sure of that?"

She gave him an incredulous look. "You know, for someone as clever as you've shown yourself to be, you do miss the obvious sometimes," she said with a chuckle that took the sting out of her words. "You need to remember that you're not alone, anymore. You have three very determined young girls, that won't let anything stop them from being a part of your life, and one of them is my daughter. Even if I didn't want to help you, just for the sake of doing so, I'd do it for Susan. Even if you can't trust that I want to help you, you _can_ trust that I want to help her by association."

She didn't like giving it to him in that way. She would have preferred if he could trust that she just wanted to help him for him. He couldn't see the forest for the trees, though. It was obvious to her that any offer of help would be viewed with suspicion as he tried to figure out what angle there was beneath the offer. If she presented it in a way that made her seem less self sacrificing and more self serving than it would better align with how he viewed the world and what he expected of people.

"Come on," she said after a time. "It's late, and I think we should try to get some more sleep." He nodded and let himself be lead out of the kitchen as their dirty cups vanished with a quiet series of pops behind them.

When they reached the door to the guest room he paused, one hand on the door knob with his back to her. "If I can choose where I live, and who I live with," he said, quietly, "I think this would be a really nice place to live." Before she could respond, he yanked open the door and disappeared inside, closing it quickly, but carefully, behind him. It was as if he was afraid to hear what she might say in response to that, and she realized, he probably was terrified that he'd even said it at all.

"I think this could be a good home for you too," she muttered to the empty hallway. "But you'll have to decide that for yourself, when we reach that point." After quickly checking on the girls and finding them still sound asleep, Amelia returned to her own room and settled into her own bed. She slowly drifted off, her thoughts filled with a house that rang with young laughter and felt like a true family home again.


	11. Heart to Heart

**AUTHORS NOTE: You like me! You really, really, like me!**

 **Seriously, boys and ghouls, as of writing this note, here are the stats. Reviews: 235 Follows: 1,039 Favorites: 603 Communities: 13 and Views: 51,570**

 **I'm giddy, thrilled, euphoric, and any number of other appropriately descriptive adjectives.**

 **So onto important stuff. I'm thinking,** _ **thinking**_ **, that I might have this year wrapped up in the next maybe five or six chapters, give or take a nickel. Which honestly concerns me a little as I haven't even finished the next chapter yet. I'm concerned about being able to stick to my every Tuesday post schedule but fear not, I shall struggle through all hardships. I shall persevere through wind , rain, sleet, snow, wait…. I don't get sleet or snow in Southern California… I'll MOVE somewhere where there is sleet and snow to prove my loyalty to the cause! That might be a bit excessive… hmmmm… Sorry I'm sleep deprived and in a silly mood.**

 **Point being, I'm doing my level best to keep to the schedule I outlined at the beginning, if I slow down a bit I apologize in advance but promise you this story will not be abandoned.**

 **Moving on again. Last night at work I was working out this note in my head but I can't remember most of what I wanted to put down now that it comes time to write it so I'll just leave you guys with a quick question. As I stated in my first authors not I was planning on doing a separate story for each year. Now I'm wondering if I should do that. I'm open to thoughts and suggestions from you guys.**

 **Should I finish this one then post a new story or just end it like "End Part One" and then post a new chapter stating "Beginning Part Two"? What do you guys think?**

 **Disclaimer: Please, please, I'm just a poor security guard and author. I have a wife and kids. I couldn't own Harry Potter if my life depended on it. No sue the poor man. Thank you.**

 **And now. Without further ado. Chapter Ten of Soul Scars.**

Soul Scars

By,

Rtnwriter

"You found him?" Neville gasped out, mouth gaping open. Harry was glad the other boy hadn't been eating yet when they dropped the bombshell on him.

"Harry found him," Hermione pointed out, a happy grin on her face. "It was on Boxing Day. Susan and Daphne and I were going through the library, looking for any reference we could find on Flamel when he came running into the room, screaming his head off like his pants were on fire."

"I was not screaming," Harry grumbled and the girls smirked.

"Screaming, Harry."

"I was excited."

"As well you should have been." Daphne reached over Susan and gently patted his cheek while Neville smirked at him.

"Traitor, he growled, glaring at his friend whose smirk only widened.

"Anyway, he was waving something around and shouting that he'd found him over and over. When we finally got him to calm down he showed us what he'd found." Hermione reached into her robes and withdrew a card, which she handed across the table to Neville. Tracey and Hannah, sitting on either side of him, leaned in to look at the card in his hands.

"Dumbledore's chocolate frog card?" Tracey looked confused until Neville flipped the card over and started to read.

"'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindlewald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicholas Flamel'!" The three of them stared across the table at the grinning foursome.

"But… that still doesn't tell us what's being guarded or what it has to do with Flamel."

Harry snorted, "it does if you've got a steel trap for a mind, like Hermione," he said as the mentioned girl flushed brilliantly on his right. She jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow but he looked completely unapologetic.

"As soon as Harry read us the card I remembered reading about Flamel before. The reason we couldn't find him is that we kept looking at more recent history. Flamel and his wife are both over six hundred years old!"

"How in Merlin's name is that possible?" Tracey demanded. "I mean, wizards can live for a long time, but that's just ridiculous."

"Flamel is the only known creator of a Philosophers Stone," Hermione told them and then sighed at the blank looks on their faces. "Honestly, am I the only one in this group that actually reads?" she griped ignoring Harry's insulted 'Oi!' from beside her. "The philosophers stone is the penultimate goal of alchemy. It can turn any base metal into gold _and_ it can create a liquid called the elixir of life. The elixir is how the Flamels have lived for so long."

Neville considered that in silence for a moment as food suddenly appeared on the table in front of them. "Well, I can understand why that would be worth stealing."

They spent the rest of the feast on their first day back from the holidays talking of lighter things though Harry knew all three girls would occasionally throw him concerned looks.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate it. It was an interesting experience knowing people that were actually concerned about him for a change. But after a while it started to wear on him. They hadn't discussed what he'd said in the hall on Christmas day and every time he thought of it he cursed himself anew for speaking more than he should have. He shouldn't have given them that glimpse into his home life.

Finished first, Harry bid his friends goodnight and waved the girls down when they looked like they wanted to follow him.

"I'm just heading to the tower," he said. "Kinda feel like a little peace and quiet for a minute, it's noisy in here." He offered them a small smile which they seemed to accept though he could still feel concern radiating from all three of them as he left the Great Hall and began a leisurely stroll toward Gryffindor Tower.

Harry had his head down, staring at the stones beneath his feet as he walked, letting muscle memory guide him on a sort of auto pilot to where he needed to go. Suddenly, a pair of hands wrapped around each arm, lifted him off the ground, and carted him away down a side passage.

Panic ripped into him for a second before it was replaced by anger and he kicked and fought as hard as he could until his captors dropped him. Spinning, his right elbow flashed out and there was a crunching sound followed by a pained grunt before he turned back to his left and lashed out with his foot, burying his toe in his second attackers groin.

His target sank to the ground, letting out a piteous moan and Harry stepped forward, ready to kick again before he finally recognized the bright red hair.

"Fred?" he asked. "George? What the hell is wrong with you two? Why would you sneak up on someone like that?" One hand was held clutched to his chest as he attempted to will his racing heart to slow. It wasn't long before the twins were able to slowly get to their feet. One, hunched over a bit, his hands resting on his knees, while the other had his head tilted back, stemming the flow of blood from his abused nose.

"Gred?" said the one on his left.

"Yes, Forge?"

"Make a mental note to self: Do not sneak up on ickle Harrykins."

"Duly noted Forge."

Harry just stared at them.

"Forge?"

"Yes, Gred?"

"Mental note to yourself or myself?"

"Either? Both?" he shrugged. "Does it really matter? I just don't want to get kicked in the pills again."

"A worthy and noble reason, brother mine."

"I thought so, my brother."

"Guys! Seriously, what the hell is going on, why did you grab me?"

"We have some news. Wood-"

"-let it slip and we wanted to let you-"

"-know as soon as we could."

Harry eyed the twin on his right, Forge, apparently. "What news?"

"It's about the upcoming Hufflepuff match."

"Word is, that Snape is going to be the referee."

Harry summed up _that_ little piece of information rather eloquently. "Well… shite."

#####

"Don't play," Susan demanded the next day after lunch when he told them about Fred and George's sneak attack. They were sitting in their usual seats, the girls on the small sofa before the fire and Harry occupying the chair he'd taken on their first night in the tower.

"Say you're ill."

"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione tried.

" _Really_ break your leg," came Daphne's suggestion. She paused when she noticed all three of them staring at her. "What?" she said, defensively. "It's not like I _want_ Harry to get hurt but how much danger do you think he'll be in out on that pitch with Snape in charge? He did try to kill him once already. Remember the broom?"

"Look, girls, I can't do any of that," he finally said, interrupting them before they could get going again. "There isn't a reserve seeker so if I don't play then the team has to forfeit. I already get enough attention around here that I don't want, if the whole House is pissed at me over losing us the game, well, life'll get really unpleasant around here."

They didn't like it, but before they could say anything else the portrait covering the entrance to the common room swung open and Neville toppled into the room. His legs were stuck together with a leg-locker curse and while the majority of those students present burst out laughing at the sight of him, Harry and Hermione were already on their feet and speeding his way. Hermione quickly cast the counter charm and as his legs sprang apart Harry was able to help the sweating, exhausted boy to his feet.

"Thanks, guys." He panted and let himself be led to the chair Harry had so recently vacated. Harry seated himself on the arm of the sofa next to Susan as Hermione resumed her seat in the middle of the other two girls.

"So, wanna tell us what happened?" Harry asked after Neville's breathing had slowed to a more normal level.

Neville grimaced. "It was Malfoy," he growled. "Ran into the git outside the Library and he said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

Harry frowned. "What do you plan on doing about it?"

Neville shrugged. "Nothing I guess. He's a better wizard than I am, there's not much I _can_ do, really."

"That's the biggest load of horse shite I've heard in a while, Nev." Harry's tone wasn't particularly hostile but he was firm. He ignored the shocked look on his friends face, as well as Hermione quietly admonishing him for his language, and continued on, "Malfoy is a prat, and a peacock, always preening and strutting around like he's Merlin's gift to magic. You know as well as I do that he's just as slow on the uptake as some but he doesn't have the same excuse you do for why you have more trouble catching on with spells."

Neville snorted. "Right, I'm even worse than I thought. Thanks for the cheering up Harry."

"No. You're using the wrong wand."

The three girls and Neville all stared at him, nearly identical looks of confusion on their faces and Harry arched blinked, surprised at their reaction.

"Really?" he asked. "I'm the only one that sees it?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione was staring intently at Harry.

"Nev, weren't you saying, just before we left for the holidays that you're using your Dad's wand?" He noticed understanding dawning in Daphne's and Susan's expression at that revelation.

Neville nodded and pulled the well worn wand from within his robes. "My parent's were Aurors," he said. "When it took so long for me to really show off any accidental magic my family was worried. Gran said she thought maybe using my dad's wand would be good for me, since he was such a great man, and a great wizard."

"Hermione?" Harry turned to the brains in their group. "What'd Ollivander say when you went in to get your wand before school?"

She blinked, thinking back over that trip to Diagon Alley. "Well… he said that the wand chooses the-" she fell silent as her eyes widened, "the wand chooses the _wizard_ ," she cried. "Oh, Neville, that's it! Your dad's wand just isn't suited for you."

Neville looked confused, idly caressing the wand in his hands.

"Nev, bear with me here. Cast a lumos would you?" Harry gently requested.

Still confused but willing to give his friend the benefit of the doubt, Neville complied. The tip of his wand lit up but it was weak and fluctuated and it took him three tries to get it to work.

"Here," Harry handed over his holly and phoenix feather wand. "Give this one a shot."

That time, when Neville called out the spell, Lumos, the tip of Harry's wand lit up immediately. It still wasn't exceptionally bright, but it was brighter than with his dad's wand and it was more steady.

"How did that feel?" Harry asked, taking in the shocked look on his friends face.

"It was… wow, that was way different than using my dad's old wand. It always felt kind of… cold in my hands. But yours is so warm, Harry. That's a great wand." He handed the wand back to Harry who tucked it into his robes.

"Look, I think you need to talk to your Gran, Nev." Neville looked absolutely terrified by the very idea, sure he'd stood up to his gran over the holiday on the Boy-Who-Lived thing but this was his dad's wand!

Harry pressed on before he could attempt to mount a protest. "Seriously, Nev. I get it. It's your dad's wand. I just recently received something that belonged to my dad and I get how much this must mean to you and to your gran, but you have to admit that wand is holding you back in school. You're a much better wizard than you think you are. Neville Longbottom."

Susan leaned forward and patted Neville's knee to get his attention. "He's right, Nev," she said. "That creepy old guy said the same thing to me. Each wand and wizard or witch won't work together. Some are better suited to your magic or your personality. I'm not really positive how it all works but I remember my auntie telling me about when she got her first wand. Said it took her over half an hour trying wands before she found something that worked right for her."

"Took me twenty minutes," Daphne said, and Hermione nodded, holding up her vinewood and dragon heart string wand.

Neville sat back, a frown furrowing his brow as he considered that. "Gran won't like it. She says I should be honored to use my dads wand."

"And I don't disagree with her, I'd be honored and thrilled to have either of my parents wands," Harry admitted. "But I wouldn't want to _use_ that wand. It'd be better if the wand actually suited you, Nev. Would your gran prefer you use your dad's wand and do awful in school, or would she rather maybe display the wand on the mantle right underneath the awards and certifications that you're going to earn because you get yourself a wand that works right for _you._ "

Neville considered that information and while he did that Harry reached down and lifted Susan's arm up so he could glance at the watch on her wrist.

"Look," he offered. "It's a few hours still until dinner so why don't we get working on that Transfiguration essay that McGonagall assigned and you can think about all this later. If you want I'll even help talk to your Gran later, how's that sound Nev?"

The smile that Neville gave to Harry was grateful and he nodded. "I'd appreciate that, Harry. Gran can be… stubborn."

"No worries Nev."

Gathering together supplies they made their way to the library where they found Tracey and Hannah sitting at a table with a boy none of them recognized immediately, sitting between them.

"Guys," Tracey said when she looked up to see them approaching the table. "I'd like to introduce you to Blaise Zabini, heir presumptive of House Zabini."

Most of the Gryfindors gave Tracey a strange look at her introduction but they quickly collected themselves and made the proper introductions with their full titles and houses, though Harry expressly did not introduce himself as Lord Potter. He still needed to talk to the girls about that.

"Tracey, care to explain what's going on here?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowed slightly at the green trim on Blaise's robes and the Slytherin crest on his chest.

She looked around them and leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Look, guys, I've known Blaise for years. He's a good guy and doesn't proscribe to all the crap Malfoy spouts."

"How did I not know this?" murmured Daphne. Harry could feel a sense of betrayal coming from the beautiful blond.

"Your dad really doesn't like House Zabini. They have been on opposite sides of business dealings in the past and he wouldn't have liked you spending time with the scion of the House," Tracey explained. "So, basically, whenever you and I weren't spending time together growing up I would hang out with Blaise."

"If I may?" Blaise cut in, speaking for the first time and everyone seemed to look at Harry, waiting for him to decide.

He nodded sharply, keeping a wary eye on the boy while they waited for him to speak.

"Tracey has spoken truly. I do not, nor does my House proscribe to any of the pureblood bigotry or judgements. My mother has always taught me that a persons station is less important than the person that holds it. You, Mister Potter, hold an extremely high station in our world right now. You've got more political influence and power than you know, but you would never abuse it or use it to benefit only yourself, from what Tracey tells me.

"I find I would much rather be friends with someone like you, than with the opportunistic, back stabbing bastards that make up the majority of my house here at school. I am willing to swear a magically binding oath that I mean none of you any harm if that would make you feel better."

Harry stared at him for a while longer before glancing at the three young ladies bonded to him. No words were shared between them but after a moment he turned back to Blaise and offered his hand. "I've said it several times now, but I don't know anyone who has too many friends," he said. "The fact that you're willing to offer the oath means a lot, to me, at least. So I don't think that'll be necessary, right away. I'm sorry if we don't all warm up to you quickly, but we're all our own people. Some of us might take longer than others to get comfortable."

Blaise smiled and accepted the hand, giving it a firm shake before lowering his arm to his side. "That's entirely understandable. It'll be nice to sit with people that are at least honest about how they feel instead of pretending to be your friend, while simultaneously plotting to betray you at the first opportunity."

Harry smirked. "It's not a very Slytherin thing to do," he said, "offering to take a wizards oath right off the bat like that."

"Possibly," Blaise admitted with a nod. "Unless of course, I was expecting you to react exactly as you did and not force the issue."

Harry looked a little less sure of himself after that but the quiet chuckles coming from the majority of the group had him giving a wry grin before he suggested that they all get to work.

They took their seats after that and homework came out of bags. Somehow, Harry found himself sitting across from Blaise with Hermione and Susan on either side of him with Daphne once again sitting on Susan's other side. For a brief moment he wondered why they always seemed to wind up sitting that way, it was almost as if Daphne was attempting to keep distance from him, but with how she'd warmed to him after the troll incident on Halloween he didn't think that was the explanation.

When Blaise started asking him for help with some of their charms work he pushed the thought from his mind and the next two hours passed swiftly as the group chatted quietly and rolls of parchment were filled with essays. Harry found Blaise to be a hard read. He seemed to play things close to his chest and didn't give much away as they talked, but Harry still got the feeling that he was sincere about wanting to be friends. As they were packing up to go down to dinner Harry decided he'd seen enough to continue giving the quiet Slytherin the benefit of the doubt. He even entertained the idea that he might become a good friend one day.

#####

"Mister Potter."

Harry turned, surprised to find his dinner interrupted to find Professor McGonagall standing behind him, her face set in its usual stern expression. Something had been different about McGonagal, though, since their conversation with Dumbledore in the hospital wing on Halloween. That one incident seemed to be where many changes in the people around him stemmed from. There was something soft, almost sad, in McGonagalls eyes whenever she looked at him despite any disapproving or stern glare she might otherwise school her face into.

"Professor?"

"When you are finished with your meal, I would like you to meet me in my office." She glanced at the girls that surrounded him and with a somewhat apologetic expression added, "only, Mister Potter, I am afraid."

Hermione, Susan, and Daphne all frowned, nearly identical expressions of disproval but Harry simply shrugged and nodded, not letting the trepidation he felt at this strange request show in his face or posture.

"Of course, Professor."

She nodded and turned to make her way from the Great Hall as he turned back to his food, ignoring the three tense figures to either side of him. "There's nothing to worry about until there's something to worry about," he said, suddenly and felt their surprise as he saw Neville give him a strange look across the table.

He sighed and set down his fork. "Yeah, I'm not thrilled to be summoned to my Head of Houses office with no warning. As far as I know I haven't done anything I could be in trouble for…" he trailed off for a moment, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling before he added, "at least, nothing that she should have been able to find out about."

He grinned when Susan and Daphne both snorted.

"The point stands, though, that we don't know why she asked me to come see her so there's no point in assuming that it's bad news before I even meet with her, right? I'm trying to be a little more optimistic."

Hermione didn't seem to agree but Daphne and Susan nodded and Neville just shrugged and returned to his own food. Harry finished eating quickly and stood up from the table. "I'll see you all later in the common room?" he asked and his friends all nodded though he couldn't help but notice worried looks from his bonded. He gave them a smile and with a small wave made his way from the Hall.

"Come ahead, Mister Potter," Professor McGonagall called when he knocked on the door to her office a few minutes later. With a shaking hand he pushed the door open and entered to find the Professor sitting at her desk with a man wearing Healers robes occupying one of the straight wooden chairs she reserved for meetings with students. Harry closed the door and walked over to sit in the other chair, looking curiously back and forth between the two of them.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" he asked.

McGonagall nodded, her expression as stern and impassive as ever. "Yes, Mister Potter. I… I have been informed, without going into detail, that you had a bit of a bad experience at the start of the Christmas Hols."

Harry frowned, remembering the panicked terror but unable to really put together many of the details. "So I've been told," he muttered.

"Madam Bones informs me that you and she spoke about setting up regular meetings with a Mind Healer to attempt to help you deal with some of the trauma you've experienced in your life."

He nodded again and shoved down the rising shame and panic that always seemed to well up whenever his past became a part of conversation. He reminded himself it was a necessary evil. "She did."

"This, is Healer Gant. He was apparently the Healer that was called on the night in question and examined you. We would like to start setting up weekly sessions, Fridays after dinner. You will meet the Healer here in my office."

"So, I don't have any say in this then?" he snapped, his gaze hardening into emerald chips as he studied his Head of House. "Madam Bones made it clear it was my decision, just impressing on me the importance of it."

She winced, but hid it well. "No, Mister Potter, I am afraid that you do not. That decision has been taken from Madam Bones as well. Based on how you responded during your… episode, it has been determined that you _could_ be a danger to the people around you. The School Board of Governors has rules in place for such occasions. Unfortunately, you either agree to the sessions or the board would be forced to see you removed from the school and sent to St. Mungos Hospital for treatment."

"How did they even find out about it? And why did Amelia tell you?" he demanded. He was hurt and shoved down the rising feeling of betrayal. Amelia had said she would need to inform some people, he reminded himself. _Don't jump to conclusions._

"Professor? Might I speak for a moment?" the Healer said and she nodded to him. He turned to face Harry a little more fully though he continued to stare straight ahead at the wall.

"Mister Potter. I get the feeling that you're feeling a touch betrayed, here."

"Shouldn't I be? I was told that my… situation wouldn't be blabbed about and instead I find that more and more people know all about it with little consideration as to how I feel about that."

"And that sucks like a Hoover." Harry started and glanced at the man. "Muggle-born," he said. "Yeah. That sucks. But you need to consider a few things, Mister Potter. First, your school Healer didn't have a choice in the matter when she discovered what you've been hiding. As you are still a child, and as a healer in a school responsible for the health and safety of the children in her charge, she was duty bound to report your condition. She did not have a choice in the matter. Amelia had to contact me to look you over that first night, and your incident started on the platform by the Hogwarts Express. Plenty of people witnessed your initial reaction and the backlash. And Professor McGonagall is your head of house, she has to approve meetings such as these and has offered us the use of her office so I could Floo here directly and leave directly, limiting the chance of any other students realizing I'm here.

"Second, I get that you have spent a number of years now, looking entirely after yourself. That's admirable, but you have finally found yourself in a situation where there are people willing, even eager, to help look after you. You shouldn't do it all on your own, it is the adults job to help keep you safe and to get you better."

"Where were the adults in charge of keeping me safe when I was actually in danger?" Harry snapped. "Fat lot of good they did me then!" He knew that wasn't fair but couldn't help himself and took several deep breaths, trying to calm down.

"Most of the ones that want to help didn't know who you were or where you were. Can you honestly blame them for something they had no control over?"

Harry glared, mutinously at the man for several moments before finally heaving out an explosive sigh and muttering a sullen, "no."

"Third, your power is immense, for a kid your age. If you don't start working your way past the trauma and start healing you're likely going to explode one day, and the people closest to you are going to suffer the brunt of it. Is that what you want?"

Immediately an image flashed into Harry's mind of Daphne, Susan, and Hermione lying broken and battered on the ground, all because of him, and he paled considerably.

"Here's what I can tell you, kid, and what I can do for you. I've been hired, personally, by Madam Bones. She loves her niece, and she understands that her niece cares about you. So she wants you to get help. She's still working on the legal situation, but you need to help too. You need to pull your weight on this end of the equation or it won't matter what she pulls off. It's all going to end in tears.

"I'm going to come once a week. You and I will talk. You'll tell me about how you were treated growing up, how you got the scars I've been told about. I'll have to take some pictures of those scars. But other than an official report on your statement for the DMLE and for the muggle authorities I will swear an oath right now that nothing you tell me will go beyond you and I. And we don't just have to talk about your past. You can talk about whatever is bothering you. Whatever is going on in your life that you might need help with. That's what I'm here for and that's what I intend to do."

#####

Hermione looked up from her homework, an essay for potions. She looked back down. Two minutes later, she looked up again and huffed out a breath as she glared at the entrance to the common room.

"Hermione, you really need to stop," Daphne told her in a gentle tone, not once looking up from her own Charms homework.

"What? I'm not doing anything!" Hermione squeaked and hunched back over her parchment, quill scribbling madly away.

"You're worrying yourself sick."

"And why aren't _you_ worried?" she burst out. Hermione threw her quill down on the table the three of them had commandeered and glared at the blond beside her. "You felt it. I know you did. He was angry and scared and sickened."

"I know he was, Hermione." Daphne sighed and sat back in her seat, carefully setting her own quill down.

Susan looked back and forth between the two of them, startled by the difference in the two girls. Hermione was a mess. Her brow was creased with lines of worry, her lower lip, swollen from chewing on it. Her hair stuck out at odd angles, even more wild and untamed than usual and her hands were dotted with splatters of ink.

Beside her, Daphne was the picture of a well bred pureblood lady. Not a crease or stain marked her clothes and her hands were clean and free of ink stains. She was calm and composed, almost emotionless in her control.

"She is worried," Susan suddenly said, startling herself by speaking. The other two girls turned their eyes to her and Susan suddenly felt a case of nerves hit her. She fiddled with her quill, rolling it back and forth between her fingers, nervously. "Hermione, Daphne is terrified. You don't honestly think someone is naturally so composed? She's suppressing. She's pushing down her worry, hiding it behind her training."

"Training?"

Susan nodded with a grimace twisting her face. "Pureblood girls are taught from early on that our behavior will one day reflect on our husband. A lot of the older families include lessons on etiquette and proper deportment. Daphne appears to have taken to the lessons on not showing your feelings very well."

Hermione looked at Daphne, a new gleam in her eye as she considered the blond from a new angle.

"It was an important lesson," Daphne said, her voice as cold as ice.

"Everything I learn about wizarding society just convinces me more and more that it's stuck in the dark ages," Hermione grumbled. "I'm sorry for implying you aren't worried about him, Daphne," she added, "I'm just… I'm just so worried. I mean… it's been hours now! We haven't felt anything from him in so long. And where is he, for that matter? Curfew was an hour ago."

Daphne shrugged. "I couldn't begin to tell you. But worrying yourself sick won't make things better. And this just reminds me, I still need to have a conversation with that boy." Her ice blue eyes flashed dangerously as a wave of some dark emotion filtered through their bond.

"What about?" Hermione asked, hesitantly.

"Remember when he hurt his shoulder?" Daphne asked.

Susan and Hermione nodded. As if they could forget. Hermione blindly reached out and grabbed Susan's hand as she remembered the fear that had filled her when the red head slipped from her broom.

"Remember how he hid from us that he was in pain?"

They nodded again, Hermione's expression turning curious as her mind started to work.

"How did he do that?" Daphne asked. "We're bonded. Our souls are connected. I can feel every emotion you two experience and I'm sure you feel the same from me, so how is he cutting us off? How is he hiding how he's feeling from the very people that literally share his soul?"

Neither girl had an answer to that. Daphne looked around the common room and glanced at her watch. "Look," she said, "it's after eleven. You two should get to bed, I'll stay up and wait for him."

"But I want to-"

"Hermione," Daphne cut her off. "You're going to make yourself sick and that won't do any of us any good."

"But-"

Hermione cut off again when Daphne turned her icy gaze onto her again. "You're missing the point, here. I know you're worried about him. We are too. But it's not just you and him. You're a part of us too. You don't _have_ to do everything yourself. Trust us, trust me to pull our weight in this. You and Susan… you're warmer, and more affectionate than I am. I… I don't think he needs warm and affectionate right now. I think I might be able to relate to whatever is bothering him better than you could."

Her gaze softened and she reached out, taking Hermione's other hand in her own as her thumb began to rub small circles on the back of the other girls hand. "We're all three a part of this. You won't always be able to be the one that fixes things. You won't always have the answers. You won't always have the solutions. Sometimes you're going to have to let someone else help."

Susan pushed her homework into her bag and stood. "Come on Hermione." Over the other girls protests, Susan collected her homework, her bag, and the still protesting girl, and lead her away and up the stairs toward the girls dorms.

Once they had disappeared up the stairs Daphne returned to her homework and settled in to wait.

#####

Harry didn't have the slightest clue what time it was when he finally got back to the common room, and he didn't much care. It was well past curfew, he knew that much, but he didn't have a watch, as if the Dursley's would ever buy him something. Since leaving the Professors office he'd just been wandering aimlessly with no sense of direction or purpose and hadn't paid much attention to anything on his travels. He wasn't even sure entirely where across the castle his wandering feet had taken him.

It was a wonder he hadn't been caught by one of the patrolling prefects or Filch, to be perfectly honest.

"Harry?"

His head snapped up as the portrait swung closed behind him, wide eyes locking instantly on her icy blue gaze. Despite the cold color, he could see warmth, and concern in her eyes.

"Hey, Daphne," he muttered. She was sitting in the same chair near the entrance that she'd occupied before, when she caught him coming in from his early morning training. Once again, as before, she was perfect, with a thick text open on her lap.

"We've been worried about you," she told him after a minute of silence passed between them.

He looked around the room to find it empty of anyone else but the two of them. "Who's 'we'?" he muttered. "Looks like you're the only one here."

"Hermione was making herself sick, worrying about you. Susan and I finally had to force her to go to bed and I promised them I would wait up for you."

He winced but a moment later his face was once again schooled into an emotionless mask. She felt it was nearly as good as her own mask, but his had been forged in fires far worse than hers and it had been warped by the heat. The mask was imperfect.

"No one asked her to do that," he muttered sullenly.

"Well, that's what happens when people care about you. They worry about you, without being asked."

He didn't have anything to say to that for a time. Eventually, he shrugged and started forward. "Well, you can tell them I'm fine. I'm going to bed."

"That's it?"

He stopped a few paces past her and turned to look back. "What?"

"I've sat up all this time worrying for you, waiting for you, and you're just going to go to bed?"

"Again, I didn't ask you to."

"That doesn't matter." She stared at him for a moment before she heaved out a deep sigh and stood. Setting her book aside she walked up to him and held out her hand expectantly. He looked back and forth from her hand to her face, confusion written across his features as she just stood there, waiting.

Finally, not sure what else he was supposed to do, he reached out and took her hand. As her fingers closed around his he marveled at how soft her skin was, how her smaller hand fit in his. So lost was he in his observations that he hadn't even noticed her leading him by the hand to the armchair he'd used on their first night in the tower.

He found himself being pushed into the chair and watched as she seated herself on the sofa, as close to him as she could get.

"I don't know what happened tonight, Harry," she started, "and I'm not going to demand that you talk to me. I'm not going to try to force it out of you like Hermione might."

He snorted at that and rolled his eyes.

"You know she has the best intentions, right?"

He sighed and leaned back in the chair. "Yeah, I know she does. Just, sometimes she's a little…"

"Overbearing?"

"Just a little."

"That's only because she cares about you."

"I know."

They stared at each other, Daphne still perfect as always despite the exceptionally late hour while Harry was a rumpled mess, heavy bags under his eyes with his hair sticking out even worse than usual.

"Have you been sleeping?" she asked, suddenly.

He blinked, surprised at the abrupt change of direction. "Uh… yeah, I sleep."

"Two hours a night? Three?"

He didn't say anything.

"When did the nightmares start."

"What makes you think I'm having nightmares?" he shot back, anger stirring in his chest.

"We're broken, Harry," she reminded him with a small sigh. "We both are. I know broken when I see it. I know the signs of sleep deprivation. I have some idea of what your life has consisted of even though I can't begin to know the details but I can tell that you haven't had a full nights sleep since the night we arrived at the Boneyard."

He flinched at that but made no sound and no other movement, becoming almost unnaturally still.

"I think you should talk to me about what happened tonight. But I'm not going to demand. I'm not going to pester you. I just want you to know, I think I may have a better understanding than anyone else that you know. I won't pity you and call it sympathy. I won't offer false assurances, as well intentioned as they may be."

Still nothing. She couldn't even tell that he was breathing.

After five minutes of silence she decided to try a different tactic as the hats words from her part of the sorting came back to her. _You don't trust. You'll survive, even thrive, if you let them in. But I can see it will be difficult for you._

"Did you know, that in some of the older pureblood families, children are considered property?"

He still didn't move but something in his eyes changed. Something in the way he looked at her had shifted subtly.

"It's part of very old laws regarding family lineage. Children are the property of the Head of House. So are wives for that matter. In wizarding law women are subservient in many ways as far as family is concerned. Look at Susan's Aunt. She's a Department Head and in charge of the entire Auror force. If she was married, her husband could order her to quit and our society would require her to obey his orders."

She hesitated, fighting the urge to change the subject, to lie, again. But if she wanted to show him that she could be trusted with the hard things, the painful things that he wouldn't speak of, she needed to trust him first.

"Not all scars leave a mark," she whispered, sure that her voice would fail her if she tried to speak any louder.

He didn't say anything, but he forgot, or failed to block his emotions and she could feel the terrified curiosity that flowed over their bond. Her mouth worked, opening and closing repeatedly but she couldn't force the words out.

Finally, the perfect princess facade fell away and there she was. The real Daphne Greengrass. Beautiful. Smart. Fragile, and a broken eleven-year-old girl.

"I'm sorry," she croaked out. She covered her face with her hands but when she felt him suddenly sit next to her and hesitantly wrap an arm around her shoulders she broke down the rest of the way and buried her face against his chest. She trembled, shoulders shaking with repressed sobs but no tears escaped her. Her throat hurt as she strained to hold back the cry that fought to claw its way from her.

She wasn't sure how long they sat there, him awkwardly trying to comfort her as she clung to him. Eventually she was able to pull herself together and she started to pull away but he kept his arm around her.

It was strange for both of them. They felt uncertain and confused, but there was something comforting in each others presence. They settled in as Harry kept his arm around her and, despite the tenseness in his muscles that he couldn't force away, she leaned into him, her head resting against the front of his shoulder.

"I lied," she whispered after the silence had stretched for some time between them. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I lied to you, and to Susan, and Hermione. I know how much you hate when people lie to you."

He said nothing, just held her and let the fingers of his right hand trail across her upper arm.

"I'm sorry I lied. I-I just… I didn't know how to…"

When she trailed off he started talking, the words pouring out of him without conscious thought. "You know I wasn't thrilled with you three at first, keeping something from me," he mused, all the while ignoring the thought that, after his trip to Gringotts, _he_ was keeping something big from _them_. "I know you're all still holding back some information, keeping things secret. But Susan wasn't wrong, there are some things we just can't talk about. Not now. Maybe not ever." He shifted in his seat slightly, sliding down on the sofa until she was pressed firmly under his arm and against his side.

"I can't say that it doesn't bother me, knowing that you three are keeping something secret from me. Then again, I've got my own secrets. Things I can't talk about. I don't like it, but I guess I can understand it. It'd be kind of hypocritical of me, wouldn't it? To hold you guys keeping something back against you when you know I do the same thing. So I'm not going to make any demands, either. If you want to talk, though… I'll listen. If you want to just sit here in silence, we can do that too."

Her eyes closed and she lifted her free hand, letting it rest on his chest. She couldn't remember the number of times she'd imagined being in that very position. It was at once everything and nothing like what she'd imagined it to be. His presence was exactly as comforting and reassuring as she'd pictured. But that damned ingrained fear that gripped him. That terror that left every muscle in his body so tense it was as if he was carved from stone.

"My father," she whispered. "He's really not a good man. I didn't entirely lie, that first night, here with all of you. Father was thrilled when he thought I might possibly be bonded to a pureblood heir. As far as he's concerned my only value is what I can bring in for him. If he could arrange a betrothal contract for me he could get a lot for my bride price. He could gain himself more wealth, more prestige, more power, and all it would cost him would be to serve up his oldest daughter like a piece of meat to the highest bidder.

"And the better I behave, the more like a proper, subservient, pureblood woman that I behave, the more valuable I am. So he hired tutors, years ago. Tutors to teach me all about the rules and etiquette of high society. Tutors to teach me about the various families and where everyone fit in the social hierarchy. When I learned quickly, and well, I was ignored. If I struggled, or was too slow to learn, I was punished."

A part of him, a very large part, wanted desperately to ask how she was punished. What did these tutors do to her if she didn't learn fast enough? But he remembered his promise and kept his silence. He found the threads of anger her words stirred and ruthlessly crushed them, shoving them down as deep as he could so he wouldn't scare her.

"Thank you for telling me," he whispered after some minutes had passed and she didn't seem like she was going to say anything more. He sighed, heaving out a deep breath and she giggled slightly as his chest expanded when he inhaled, forcing her body up where she rested against him.

"Amelia… she's hired a healer to come visit me," he admitted.

It was her turn to keep silent and listen and she did so, listening to the words wash over her, feeling the strong beating of his heart under her fingers where they rested on his chest.

"I don't want to talk about it, to anyone. I don't want to talk about what's happened to me. I don't even want to think about it. But he says that I have to tell everything so they can put together a statement from me to use in getting me away from the Dursleys. He wants to… he wants to take pictures of the… of me, to show what they've done."

Without thinking her hand started moving, rubbing a gentle circle on his chest, attempting to soothe or reassure him, somehow.

"I'm just… I-I don't understand," he whispered. "I don't _want_ to have to go back there and this will help them get me away, but…" He trailed off, unable to force the words out.

"It's hard to talk about, when people are demanding information. It's easier, but still difficult, when you can speak in your own time. When someone demands you tell them of the darkest moments of your life you just want to clam up and refuse them."

He nodded, grateful that she understood.

"Why can't you just tell them you're not ready yet?"

A shudder ran through him at that and she pressed herself tighter against him, offering what comfort she could.

"Because of the… because of what happened at the Boneyard that first day, the Board of Governors has decided I'm potentially a threat. If-if I don't agree to meet on their schedule they'll just have me pulled out of school and sent to St. Mungos."

She groaned and buried her face against his chest for a moment. "Interfering bastards," she muttered.

A small smirk twisted his lips. "Language," he gently admonished her in place of their favorite bushy haired bookworm and they shared a quiet chuckle for a moment before falling silent.

She noticed that his hand was moving against her shoulder but he wasn't stroking her arm, or her hair as he had been. A glance over and he was absently rubbing the side of his middle finger with his thumb, as if…

"Harry?" she asked, still staring at his hand.

"Hmmm?"

"Are you wearing a ring on your right hand?"

His fingers suddenly stilled and his hand clenched into a fist. She slowly reached up, giving him time to move away, if he wanted to, and she felt his muscles, shift but he remained where he was sitting. Her fingers touched his hand, and gently slid across his knuckles until she found the ring that sat on his finger. It felt like it was a thick, wide band with a large stone in the center and etchings on either side that she couldn't identify by touch.

Immediately she wanted to question him. Wanted to demand to know what the ring was, why she couldn't see it, where he got it, and even more questions. But she stomped down on that desire.

"Do you think you'll ever trust us?" she asked after a time.

"I do trust you," he said with a sigh. "It's not a matter of trust it's just…" he shrugged and pulled his arm from around her shoulders and held his hand out in front of them. A moment later the ring shivered into her view and she gasped, instantly recognizing it for what it was.

It really was a beautiful piece. Thick and wide, as she'd felt. On the left side of the heavy gold band was etched a Gryphon holding a sword in one paw with its wings spread wide and on the right was a shield with the Potter Family Crest. In the center sat a large ruby that gleamed in the light of the fire.

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

"Thanks. It's the Head of House Ring for House Potter."

She nodded. "I recognized it right away."

He arched a brow at her. "You've seen the Potter Ring before?"

"No. I meant that I recognized it as a Head of House Ring. They're all designed differently but there are certain details that make them easy enough to recognize. One of those, being that your Family Crest is on it. Only the Head of House is allowed to wear such on a ring according to wizarding law."

"I didn't know that."

"So, how is it that you were able to accept your status as Head of House while still only eleven, Lord Potter?" she asked and he winced.

"Please, it's still just Harry," he muttered. "My whole life, I've just tried to blend into the background, to go unnoticed. Ever since coming back to the wizarding world I keep getting thrust into the spotlight for one reason or another. I don't like it. It just feels wrong to me."

She nodded. "I can understand that, I think," she admitted, "and I'm sorry that it keeps happening to you. But we're all here for you, Harry. You know that. And we'll help you. Me, Susan, Hermione, Tracey, Hannah, Neville. You know we'll help, however we can."

"You didn't answer my question, though," she pointed out. "How?"

"When we went to Diagon Alley, my accounts manager told me that, because I was the last living member of my family I could take up my Lordship. Something about securing inheritance and having to see about the continuation of the family line." He was blushing by the time he finished, and so was she, but she nodded calmly.

"That makes sense, not that you really have to worry about it for a few years now."

They fell silent for a time, simply resting there. Daphne could dimly feel the emotions running through him, even as his body remained tensed beside her. "Do you feel any better?" she asked after a while.

He shrugged one shoulder. "A bit, I guess," he admitted and took a deep breath, setting her to giggling again as his expanding chest shifted her body. "It is nice, to be able to talk to someone that can understand. I just… I hope one day we'll both be able to tell each other everything."

"We will," she whispered. A moment later she spoke again, hesitantly, "you still owe me another conversation, you know?"

"What about?"

"How is it that you're able to hide how you're feeling from us? I mean… we share your soul. If there's anyone in the world that you shouldn't be able to hide from, it would be us. But we know that you can hide your physical pain. And I'm pretty sure you've been able to cut off your emotions too. So how are you doing it?"

He shrugged again. "I'm not entirely sure," he admitted. "I've just… I've spent so long hiding how I'm feeling. If I let on that I was upset or angry… it wasn't a good thing, you know?"

She nodded.

"So… I look at our link. That piece that bonds us, just how I look for my magic. And when I find it I sort of tuck it to the side. I imagine wrapping it up and pushing it way down deep inside where I can't find it anymore." He shrugged his free shoulder, unable to explain it any better than that.

She sat up at that, staring at him intently. "You mean you can actually identify the link between us?"

He blinked at that. "You mean you can't?"

She shook her head, studying him carefully.

"The link between us… it's not a physical thing, Harry. There shouldn't be anything there for you to find."

He blinked and frowned. "Well, yeah it's not physical," he said. "I mean… at first I would close my eyes and sort of try to feel for you and Hermione and Susan. After a week or so I could identify each of you by what you were feeling at any given time." He shrugged again. "I don't know, I can't really explain it. I think if you tried that though, just close your eyes and try to focus on the link, try to find and identify each of us… I think you'll be able to before long."

He stood and stretched, reaching high over his head, practically rising up on his toes before his arms suddenly dropped back to his sides, his hands slapping against his thighs. "It's getting really late, and I really am tired," he said. "Thank you, for staying up to talk to me. I… I didn't really know that I needed it, but I do feel better."

Daphne couldn't help but smile, thrilled to have been able to help him, if even a little bit. "You're right, it is late," she said, suddenly the collected and proper pureblood witch, once again. "Besides, you've got your Quidditch match coming up soon, you should try to get as much rest as you can." She stretched up on her toes and placed a quick kiss on his cheek before she turned and headed for the stairs. "Goodnight, Harry," she called. Behind her, she dimly heard Harry wishing her a good night as well as she made her way up the stairs and into the dorm that she shared with the other first year Gryffindor girls.

All of the bed curtains were pulled closed except for hers and Susan's. A quick glance told her that Susan wasn't in her bed so she quickly changed into her nightclothes and made her way over to Hermione's bed. When she pulled back the curtain she found the both of them, Hermione curled up in the center of the bed with Susan behind her, one arm wrapped tightly around the other girls waist.

Daphne lifted the covers and slipped into the bed, closing the curtains behind her. She scooted forward and laid down, laying her free arm across the both of them. She smiled, gently when, in her sleep, Hermione muttered something and cuddled closer to her, pressing her face into Daphne's shoulder and with the scent of old parchment and vanilla filling her nose Daphne slowly drifted off to sleep.


	12. Overwhelmed

**Authors Note: Rotten Writer here again gang, a little late this time around but it's been a rough week, to be fair. I actually had something wrong with my eye the other day that made any light excruciatingly painful. Sucked balls, lemme tell you.**

 **Anyway. This chapter was difficult, extremely difficult for me to write. On the one hand, some reviewers have commented, rightly, I think, that there's a little too much of falling apart broken Harry. I'm not trying to beat a dead horse here, I swear. But there is a plan and he is and WILL be getting better. I am also, again, not an expert in any psychological field. A lot of the description of what Harry is feeling I took from myself, to be honest.**

 **I'm one of those rare people that fears nothing, really. No heights, depths, darkness, enclosed spaces, nothing really bugs me. But I don't like crowds. I don't like being hemmed in or trapped by other people. Like Harry, I like my personal space. And when I get boxed in like that I get fidgety, and anxious, irritable and cranky and I snap at people and say things I don't mean. In that state if I'm grabbed suddenly or if I can't get away from the crowds I have become violent and out of control, something I try to avoid to an extreme degree as I dislike not being in control of myself.**

 **So hopefully this chapter meets with much approval. We'll get a better idea of the punishments that Harry has to deal with in the next chapter and I believe we'll actually be wrapped up with year one in the next three chapters to be honest. Next for dealing with a few last minute things, the stone in the chapter after, then the wrap up. I think that's doable, we shall see.**

 **Apologies for the slight delay, it is still Tuesday, so I've met my schedule, just much later in the day than I prefer.**

 **Disclaimer: I own not Harry Potter. Do not sue me. You won't get much.**

Soul Scars

By,

Rtnwriter

Harry had been confident, firm, when he told them that he was going to play in the upcoming Quidditch match against Hufflepuff. As the day drew closer, though, he found himself getting more and more nervous about the entire thing.

The night after he'd spoken to Daphne, he came clean, and explained to Hermione and Susan that he had taken up his status as Head of House. They'd taken it well, understanding that he didn't like yet another thing that would set him apart from his peers, and agreed that it was probably best that he didn't advertise it. He already got so much attention, and some people might be tempted to try and use his new status to their advantage, somehow.

When he woke the next Saturday morning, he was in a foul mood. The night before had been his first assigned meeting with the Mind Healer Gant, whose first name Harry realized he still didn't know. It hadn't been an easy session. Gant had posed probing questions about his time with his relatives before starting school that Harry really hadn't wanted to answer, despite knowing it was a necessary evil in the process of getting him removed from the Dursley's home.

In the end, he _had_ discussed a lot of what happened. Not all, by any means, but a lot. More than enough, Gant said, for the report he'd needed to put together for the DMLE. Then he'd pulled out a wizarding camera and explained that he needed to photograph the scars to add to the report as proof of the treatment he'd suffered. That had nearly pushed the young Potter over the edge. He'd come close to storming off, running away to wallow in his misery in peace and quiet.

Harry had to remind himself of Gant's final word of warning, one of the reasons he'd explained these sessions were so important for him and for the people around him. Harry knew his temper was becoming a problem. He'd never had this issue when at the Dursley's. There he'd been able to control his temper, since losing it usually meant a beating, or worse. But since re-entering the wizarding world he'd found his rock solid grip on his anger slipping more and more. With Malfoy's constant taunting in classes and with his potions professor hating his guts for some unidentifiable reason, his control was taking a constant battering. And here, he had a wand, a means to defend himself that he hadn't had at the Dursley's.

He found that he was far more prone to lashing out in anger when pressed than he had been before, and he wasn't entirely certain he liked what he was learning about himself. _That's part of what these sessions are about, Harry_ , Gant had told him. _You don't want to hurt anyone, but your situation is different now and you are reacting differently to it. You need to get some control over yourself or you could be endangering the people around you._

Only adding to his frustration, was the continued presence of his nightly nightmares. Sometimes three or more times a night. Unlike at the Boneyard, though, he couldn't go check on the girls to reassure himself of their safety and the fear and continuing lack of sleep was slowly driving him batty. He'd spent so long not giving two shits about _anyone,_ but now these girls were in his life, in his head, in his dreams, and he just longed for the days when he didn't care.

He climbed out of bed, trying to shove down the memories of Gant and his camera. The bright flash of the bulb and puff of purple smoke as he took photo after photo of Harry's torso and back. He assured Harry that his face wouldn't be in any of the pictures, and in fact, his name was being kept out of the reports and the investigation as much as possible. Some people would eventually need to be informed, but at present any official documentation had him listed as 'minor victim'.

He took up his wand and cast a quick Tempus spell. Glowing numbers appeared floating in the air in front of him showing that it was barely a quarter to four in the morning. Well, that worked for him. He needed to work off some energy and the more time he had to do it the better. He dressed quickly, pulling on a comfortable set of black sweats and a long sleeved black shirt. Socks and trainers followed and he tucked his wand up his sleeve before he eased his way out of the dorm and down the stairs to the common room.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, one foot on the bottom step and the other on the floor of the common room proper as he saw Daphne, Susan, and Hermione sitting on the sofa by the fire. The sofa and chair that Harry usually occupied had unofficially been dubbed as the 'quad's spot' as most of Gryffindor called them. They were frequently left open for them to use, and if another student was using either seat, if the four of them entered the common room they were quick to vacate the space, despite all four of them insisting, repeatedly, that people didn't have to move for them.

"What are you three doing down here so early?" he asked as he walked up to them.

Daphne and Hermione looked up from their quiet conversation, eyes bright and alert. Susan was slumped against Hermione's right shoulder, her eyes closed as she snored quietly. A quick shrug of her shoulder had the red head jerking awake and she sat up sharply, her hair sticking out at odd angles and her eyes open, but barely, as she blinked blearily around at the otherwise empty room.

"Good morning, Harry," Hermione said, almost bouncing in her seat for some reason he couldn't quite identify. She felt eager, excited, across their bond while Daphne was as composed as she usually was. Daphne and Susan echoed her greeting, the last in a mumble that was barely coherent which ended in a huge yawn that she covered with one hand.

"Good morning," he said. "You didn't answer my question." He really wasn't in the mood for guessing games, and though he knew they didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of his bad mood he couldn't quite keep a touch of irritation from his voice.

"We've been thinking," Daphne said. "And we've decided that we want you to teach us."

He blinked, confused. "Teach you what?"

"All this extra training you've been doing. Reading ahead in defense. After the incident with that troll, we realized that we are rather under trained for situations like that and you had the foresight to think ahead and to read ahead in our books for spells that could help you. We want you to teach us what you've been learning."

He immediately thought to deny them, but paused when Amelia's words suddenly echoed in his mind. _I can't always be there to protect her._ What if, sometime, he wasn't able to be there to protect one of them? Wouldn't it be better if he taught them to defend themselves?

He bit back a yawn and nodded, waving for them to follow him as he turned and made his out of the common room and into the school. They followed along in silence until the reached the classroom he'd been using to practice and he pushed open the door, letting them precede him into the room.

He closed the door and stepped around them to place one of the defense books he'd received for Christmas on the rickety, teetering teachers desk as the girls looked around the room. Susan still appeared barely conscious, but Daphne's and Hermione's eyes were wide as they took in the state of the space. Nearly every student desk had been reduced to kindling that was scattered across the floor and the walls were marked with divots, cracks, scorch marks, and several long cuts carved into the stone at random angles.

He turned and leaned against the desk, almost tilting over as the whole thing leaned precariously to one side because of his weight.

"Are any of you familiar with the cutting curse, Difindo?" he asked without preamble and when they shook their heads he launched into an explanation of the curse, covering its creation, intended use, alternate uses, and the wand movement and incantation. After he finished his lecture Susan was looking far more awake than she had been and he pulled his wand from his robes.

He turned and faced the far wall and his wand snapped up, moving in a sweeping gesture as he intoned the word, "Difindo." A scythe shaped streak of blue energy left the tip of his wand and impacted against the wall with a sharp crack, leaving a six inch long groove carved into the ancient stones of the castle.

"All right. Who wants to try first?" he asked.

#####

They worked for two hours, the girls attacking the spells that he showed them with a single minded determination that would have startled him if he hadn't been concerned with his own studies in between showing them new spells to practice. Harry had found, that he had something of an affinity for fire based magics, those spells simple came easier to him than others and he searched every text he could for such spells to add to his arsenal.

As the girls were perfecting, what had become, his signature curse, the Reducto, he was working hard on a flame whip spell. The intended effect of the spell, when used properly, would have a thin tendril of fire extending from the tip of his wand that could be used to devastating effect against any number of opponents. It was supposed to be particularly useful against something called inferi, that he had thus far not come across in his other reading.

To his consternation though, the spell had remained outside of his reach, no matter how many times he practiced it, which did nothing to better his mood. By the time they left the, even further destroyed, classroom, he moved as if a heavy dark cloud hung over his head and even the girls were beginning to snap at each other, affected by the dark emotions filtering from him through their bond, muted though they were by his pushing down on their link.

They slipped into the common room and quickly separated, the girls heading to their dorm room as Harry made for his and the hot shower that awaited them. Harry stood in the shower, the water turned up so that it was practically scalding as it pounded down on his back and shoulders his fists clenched against the wall.

"I really didn't expect it to be _that_ hard," he admitted to himself as images of the past floated, unbidden, to the forefront of his mind. The maniacal grin and gleam in Vernon's eyes. The stinging pain, the searing agony of the grease burn on his shoulder. His ears were filled with the whistling of the leather belt cutting through the air and the loud smack as it struck his flesh. The meaty thud of fists. The panting, rancid, alcohol laden breath as he was overpowered time after time and the loud crack as bones snapped under the onslaught.

Voices impinged on the edge of his awareness. Crying, pleading, practically screaming voices.

"…n't be in here! This is the boys dorm!"

"-ut it, Weasley! No one gives two shits what you-"

"-Harry! Harry, what's wrong? Please, talk to-"

"-id anyone see him go in th-"

"-ust woke up when you girls burst in he-"

"HARRY!"

The last roar of a voice broke through, and Harry snapped to full awareness. He was sitting on the floor of the shower, huddled in the corner with his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around his shins. His heart was pounding away at a frightening pace and his breath came in deep, heaving gasps. Terror gripped him, a wild, torrential wave of it that swept through him threatening to pull him under, into the dark once again. Dimly, he was aware of the girls, trying to reach him through their bond, trying to push out to him, projecting feelings of comfort, safety, warmth, compassion, care.

A part of him wanted to reach for those sensations. Wanted to immerse himself in them, revel in the care and comfort of those people that cared about him.

It was exactly for that reason, that he couldn't. He knew it was wrong, somewhere. But the largest part of him feared that contact. Feared to let go. To trust. To give anyone that kind of power over him. He was already letting them further into his life than anyone had ever encroached before, and it terrified him.

So, he reached out, grasped hold of the link between them, and ruthlessly quashed it. Shoving down the emotions flooding toward him from the girls.

Suddenly, the three girls voices outside the bathroom ceased. He stood and turned off the shower, drying himself quickly as only quiet muttering from his dorm mates made it through the closed door.

"Should I go in and check on him?" he heard Neville ask.

"No, thank you Neville," Hermione answered, her voice softer and more muffled by the barrier between them. "I think he'll be okay, we were just worried."

"Still don't know what you thought you were worried about," Weasley snapped. "Would you get out of here? Girls aren't supposed to be up here."

It was to this argument that Harry broke in when he yanked open the door from the showers into the dorm. Dean and Seamus were sitting up in their beds. Dean appeared confused, and not entirely conscious, while Seamus just observed. Ron was red faced, standing beside his bed in his maroon pajamas and Neville stood closest to the door in his own Gryffindor red sleeping clothes of a pair of shorts and a tank top. The girls were still wearing the clothes they'd been in earlier, he guessed they hadn't gotten to their showers before they'd noticed the emotions he'd been unable to suppress, and had come to investigate.

Hermione, Daphne, and Susan, by far, looked the most concerned and… hurt? He wasn't positive but he thought he detected a hint of hurt in their eyes, as if he'd done or said something painful. It reminded him, dimly, of the look that he'd caught a glimpse of in Daphne's eyes when she'd rushed down the stairs after the weasel had insulted her on Halloween.

"Harry, are you okay?" Susan asked, taking a faltering step forward before she froze in place at the stony expression on his face.

"I'm fine," he muttered and brushed past them towards his bed. He sat on the edge of his bed and pulled on his socks and trainers before he grabbed his broom and gave it a quick once over.

"Harry, we felt it…" Hermione trailed off and he heard whispering from the other boys in the dorm. "I mean, after earlier, we thought something might be wrong and just wanted to-"

"I said, 'I'm fine'," he repeated, his tone harsher than before. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? He needed space, he needed to breathe, he needed to be alone, god dammit!

"You aren't fine, Harry. Something's bugging you-"

"I'm fine!" he roared for a third time, spinning to face them. "There's nothing wrong with me that a little peace and quiet won't cure." The fierce glare he fixed them with cowed the majority of the boys with only Neville standing tall under the onslaught. He felt confident in the friendship they were building. He might not like that Harry seemed angry with the entire room, but he would weather, and still stand beside Harry Potter when the storm passed.

The girls flinched and he felt nothing coming through the wall he'd built around their bond. He was, once again, blissfully alone inside his own head. He felt a brief pang of guilt, but it was overwhelmed by a self righteous fury. He'd dealt with his pains for years. He'd been alone for years. He didn't need them butting in now.

 _You can't trust,_ he reminded himself. _People only hurt you. Only use you. Only abandon and leave you._

"I'm going to breakfast," he snapped and strode quickly from the room, his broom slung over his shoulder.

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving the occupants of the room in stunned silence.

#####

Hermione felt as if she was lost in a daze. The instant Harry had shut down their link, cutting off all sensation of him in her mind, had been like cutting her legs out from under her, taking her sight, her hearing, her ability to feel. No, she could still feel, and what she felt was raw and painful. If it hadn't been for Daphne's and Susan's presence in her mind she might have shut down entirely, becoming catatonic as a near crippling sense of lonely isolation threatened to overwhelm her.

"Wh-what did we do?" she whispered, brokenly, looking to two of her bond mates just as they looked to her with equally pained expressions on their faces.

Susan stepped forward and enveloped Hermione in a hug, pulling the shorter girl close and pressing a kiss to her temple without thinking. "We didn't do anything, Hermione," she whispered as Hermione clung tightly to her, her fingers clutching at Susan's shirt. "Other than try to help him, we haven't done anything. I don't know why he reacted that way, but I don't think we can do anything to help with this one." Her breath hitched and she pushed the words out past the lump forming in her throat, "Whatever it is that's bothering him, I think he needs to work his way through this is on his own."

"Get your bloody arses out of our dorm!" Ron demanded and Neville rounded on him, his face flushing with little seen anger.

"Shut that giant hole you call a mouth, Weasley. You've got about as much compassion as a Hypogriff with a head cold, so kindly, fuck off," Neville snapped venomously at the lanky red head. Ron's mouth dropped open and he gaped at Neville as the young scion gently took Daphne by the elbow and place a hand in the center of Susan's back, leading them both, and Hermione, who was still tightly clutching Susan, toward the door.

Outside, in the hall, he continued to direct them down the stairs and across the common room to their sofa where all three girls slowly sank onto the cushions in stunned shock. Neville really wasn't sure what to do. His total sum of experience in dealing with distraught girls was approximately the last five minutes of his life.

"Look," he tried after a few minutes, "obviously something isn't right here, and I don't have the slightest clue what that is, but do you three hate him now, or something?" He did his best to hide his confusion about the entire situation in favor of trying to shock them into motion.

Daphne shook her head. "We couldn't possibly hate him. We just don't know what caused all of this."

"So you still support him, and care about him?" Neville pressed.

"Of course we do," Susan almost snapped at the young scion. "What's this all about, Neville?"

"He's got his match against Hufflepuff today," Neville pointed out. "The one that Snape is refereeing? If you still care, don't you think maybe you should go to the game to support him? Even if he's being a bit of a tool right now?" Susan considered that for a moment before she nodded, her face set in determination.

"He's right, Hermione, Daphne." She squeezed Hermione's shoulders and gently pushed the other girl away so she could stand and turn to pull her and Daphne to their feet. "He is being a tool at the moment. But we've been worried about this game for weeks now. Personally, whatever's wrong with him doesn't matter during the game. So come on, girls. We need to clean up and get changed so we can get down their and support that idiot. He might want to push us away, but that doesn't mean we need to make it easy for him."

"I'll grab a shower and change and meet you three back down here. We'll head down together," Neville said and started to head back for the stairs until Susan reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Thank you, Nev," she told him in heartfelt tones, her eyes glimmering slightly. "We needed that."

Neville grinned and shrugged one shoulder. "He may be acting like a prat, but he's still a Potter, and I'm still a Longbottom. More than that, I think we've been building a pretty good friendship. I wouldn't be much of a friend if I didn't try to help." He glanced around at the empty common room, making sure no one had entered while they were talking before turning back to her. "I'm not really sure how this bond of yours works with the four of you. I don't think I could even begin to really understand it. But whatever is eating at him, it's causing him to hurt you three, and I think I know him well enough by now that he'd never intentionally hurt you. Something isn't right. You know my friendship with Harry extends just as much to the three of you, right? If there's ever anything I can do to help, please, don't hesitate to ask."

He gave her a comforting smile and patted her hand where she still gripped his arm then quickly made his way upstairs and into the shower. In record time he was back downstairs, dressed casually without his school uniform or robes, waiting for the girls.

They weren't far behind him, arriving just minutes after he did and together, the four of them made their way out into the halls and down to the Great Hall. The match wasn't set to start until eleven that morning, and it was just barely past seven but the Hall was already filling with students coming down for an early lunch. They knew that number would thin after a while before swelling again with the late risers on a normal weekend.

This was a Quidditch weekend though, and people were excited. Second match of the year, and after Harry's showing during the first match, there was a buzz around the school, wondering if his amazing catch had really been a fluke or if the Gryffindor boy really did have what it took to be a star Seeker.

To the girls disappointment, Harry was nowhere to be seen when they and Neville entered the room. At first, they wanted to go and track him down but Neville was able to talk them out of it, instead getting them to sit and eat. It seemed like Harry wanted a little space to himself, and either way, they were going to see him at the match. Neville watched, worried, as all three girls pushed their food around their plates, barely eating anything as worry gnawed at them. _Whatever this is,_ he thought, _I hope you figure it out, quick, Harry. They don't deserve this._

"Hey, have you guys seen Harrry?"

Neville turned to find the red headed duo of destruction, Fred and George Weasley standing behind him, their eyes on the three girls where they sat across the table.

"Earlier this morning," he said for the girls. "He's been upset about something, but right now we're not sure where he is."

Fred and George shared a worried look as Neville looked back and forth between them. He really couldn't find anything different between them. Could they even tell each other apart?

"Oliver is looking for him. He wants the whole team down at the pitch an hour before kick off to go over some last minute strategies."

Neville shrugged. "Don't know what to tell you guys. I'm sure he'll turn up, but if I see him before then I'll let him know."

#####

Stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The words tumbled over and over through Harry's mind as his body tumbled, end over end, soaring and diving, tearing through the air on his Nimbus 2000. He'd gone down to the Great Hall and shoveled a quick breakfast down his throat, barely tasting the food that passed over his tongue. His guilt built more and more the longer he kept the girls blocked from his mind. He'd almost turned around at the bottom of the stairs leading down to the Gryffindor Common Room, but he'd continued out of sheer stubbornness.

"It's not their fault that you're a fucked up mess, Potter," he growled at himself as he came out of a steep dive, his vision greying slightly under the forces straining on his body.

 _But they keep butting in. They're always there. All the time. Everywhere I turn. I've got no peace, no solitude._

"They care about you, you dumbass. Not that you deserve it."

 _They only care because magic is forcing them too. I don't care what Hermione said, if it wasn't for this damn bond that's forcing them to be near me they wouldn't have ever said a word to me. I'm nothing but a Freak._

"That's Vernon talking."

 _Isn't he right?_

"NO!" Harry pulled up again, skimming the grass with his toes and threw one leg over the broom into a running landing which quickly slowed to a job before he collapsed on his back on the grass, staring up at the brilliantly blue sky above. The cold air burned in his lungs and his mind spun and twisted in turmoil.

"You're a mess," he muttered. "That stupid meeting last night. It just pulled up bad memories. Shit you haven't thought about in months, really. That's no reason to shut them out. No reason to hurt them because you're a mess."

 _But would they stay, if they knew?_

"They keep saying that they want to know. Susan said they wanted to know."

 _She also said they were afraid to know. Wouldn't they be disgusted? You're weak. You let that beast of a man treat you that way._

"I couldn't do anything to stop it."

 _You should have tried harder. Once they know… they won't believe you can protect them, anymore. They'll abandon you, just like every one else did._

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, _shut up!_ " Harry pounded the heel of his hand repeatedly against his forehead, attempting, physically, to banish the voice, the doubt and fear that lurked at the back of his mind, always whispering in his ears.

After a moment he lay still, his arms at his sides, head throbbing, eyes closed against the bright glare of the morning sunlight. Eventually he stood and made his way over to the changing rooms, intent on finding some water, just as the rest of the team approached from the castle. He joined them, ignoring the looks Fred and George sent his way as Oliver launched into his pre game strategy session and pep talk.

Harry sat and mostly stared blankly at the older boy as he spoke. Now and then he would nod, or mutter something when anyone spoke to him, but for the most part, he hadn't a clue what anyone had said or done in that hour before the game. Outside, the sound of students entering the stands started to filter in as more and more of them made their way down to the pitch for the game.

"Snape is refereeing today's game," Oliver said, just before they made their way onto the pitch. "You know he'll take every opportunity that he can to foul us or screw us up. Harry, you need to catch that snitch as fast as possible. Don't give him time to mess with us. We're playing a clean game. Everything by the rules."

Harry nodded, still hardly listening and stood, grabbing his broom with one hand, before he started down the tunnel leading out of their locker room. Oliver stared askance at the space the youngest member of their team had just vacated for a moment before he turned to the rest of the team at large.

"All right, anyone know what crawled up his arse and died?" he asked.

"Neville said something's eating at him, but he doesn't know what," Fred offered and beside him his twin nodded.

"Great," Oliver muttered. "Fingers crossed that doesn't get in the way of things." He clapped his hands together, sharply and grabbed his own broom. "All right," he said. "let's get out there and show them all what we can do.

With a cheer the rest of them grabbed their brooms and shot out of the tunnel as the crowd roared and they took to the sky.

#####

The game got underway relatively quickly. Harry floated up and out of the way, his eyes darting around the pitch as he searched for the elusive glimmer of gold. Outwardly he appeared calm, but his mind still roiled with turmoil. Guilt ate at him and he wanted to drop the barrier he'd erected around the link he shared with the girls, but shame prevented him.

He suddenly started, jerking to the side as Sommerby, the Hufflepuff seeker buzzed by him and all the turmoil, all the guilt and shame, the fear and pain and self loathing that had filled the young Gryffindor coalesced into a new emotion. One given a target and with a singular determination he latched onto the feeling.

Anger.

He glanced around the pitch, spotting one of the Weasley twins hovering at the far end near the Gryffindor hoops and he urged his broom forward, speeding across the pitch toward them.

"Fred!" he shouted as he approached, catching the red heads attention. "Down town!"

Fred smirked and turned, hefting his beaters bat. Harry did a look around the hoops as Fred maneuvered his broom into the path of one of the bludgers. He reared back and gave the little iron ball an unholy wack, sending it hurtling down pitch toward the Hufflepuff goals as canary yellow and crimson clad forms darted back and forth through the air.

Harry shot forward, getting in front of the bludger and let it latch onto him. The magic in the bludgers meant they would target the nearest body to them and then move on. Harry shot through the sky, keeping close enough that the bluder followed behind him.

" **I don't know what Potter is doing,"** he heard Lee Jordan say over the noise of the crowd, **"but it looks like he's had enough of just floating around looking for the snitch. Ooohhh that has got to hurt."**

As Jordan was talking, Harry had charged the Hufflepuff chasers. They were in the middle of a wedge formation, making their way up the pitch as they tossed the quaffle back and forth between them, keeping theGryffindor chasers from taking possession. At the last second, just before he would have crashed into the lead chaser, Harry pulled up, hard. Behind him, the bludger couldn't correct fast enough and continue on, ploughing into the other player with crushing force.

The quaffle fell from his hands and a streak of crimson ripped by as Angelina Johnson snatched it out of the air.

" **Gryffindor back in possession after that stunning play by Potter. Johnson has the quaffle, back passes to Bell. Bell passes to Spinnet. Spinnet goes to throw- NO! It was a fake as she passes back to Johnson again who throws and… SCORE! Ten points to Gryffindor!"**

#####

"I don't like this," Hermione said a few minutes later. Daphne and Susan nodded in agreement. After the initial play where Harry had used the bludger to disrupt the Hufflepuff chasers he started to fly like a man possessed. Swooping and diving through the Puffs ranks, disrupting plays, drawing bludgers in to slam into the Puffs over and over. Once, he even charged the Keeper, pulling up at the last second to let the bludger following him slam into the other player.

"This isn't like him. This… this is brutal," Susan murmured so quietly Hermione almost didn't hear her.

At first, there'd been a degree of excitement when he first started integrating himself into the plays instead of just floating above it all, searching for the snitch. But as time wore on the crowd started to mutter and murmur amongst themselves. The Hufflepuff contingent in particular were muttering darkly as Harry continued a truly brutal, one man assault against their team.

After ten more minutes of play, there wasn't a single uninjured Hufflepuff and even the other Gryffindor players seemed to feel like something was amiss. The score continued to rise in favor of Gryffindor but the chasers played with noticeably less zeal. They started to miss passes, distracted by Harry's mad antics on his broom. Twice, the young seeker misjudged the location of a bludger and took a glancing blow to his left shoulder and the right side of his chest as he threw himself into danger with reckless abandon. It had ceased being a game, and became a slaughter, and only the Slytherin side of the stands seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Multiple times Snape tried to call a foul against Gryffindor, but, as ruthless as Harry was being, every move he made was in the rule book.

"Look's like Potter really has snapped his wand," a haughty voice sneered from behind them and Neville, Daphne, Susan, and Hermione turned to find Malfoy and his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle sitting behind them in the Gryffindor stands.

"What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" Ron snapped from the next row up. "Get back over to your side of the stands."

"There's nothing that says I can't sit here if I want to, Weasel," Malfoy sneered and his bookends snickered as Ron's face started to match his hair in his growing anger.

"What were you going on about, Malfoy?" Daphne demanded as Ron spluttered and stammered indignantly.

Draco gave the three girls a smug smirk. "Oh, nothing much. I just heard that Potter's so fucked up he's been ordered to see a mind healer or the Board of Governors will demand his removal from the school." He put on a mock pitying expression. "I mean, who knows how that curse that hit him all those years ago affected him. It's no wonder he's finally showing what a crazed lunatic he really is."

The girls paled and with an enraged growl, deep in his throat, Neville turned and launched himself over the seat at Malfoy. Above them, Ron followed, throwing himself into the air to land across Crabbe and Goyle, bearing the two bigger boys to the floor as the five of them started rolling around on the ground, fists flying.

"Harry spotted the snitch!"

The girls spun around from the fight as someone in the Gryffindor stands screamed their bond mates name only to see him diving vertically for the ground.

#####

The wind whistled past his ears, his robes flapped and snapped in the wind just as his hair was blown back and his eyes almost started to water from the speed he was diving at. Harry gripped his broom tightly and willed it toward the tiny glimmer of gold that he could see flickering near the pitch below. Sommerby was lagging behind and he could hear the older boy blistering the air behind him as he struggled to keep up with the smaller and lighter Gryffindor.

The snitch, as if sensing their approach suddenly darted away and both seekers pulled up sharply chasing after the tiny winged ball. Harry grunted when Sommerby suddenly swerved into him, attempting to knock the smaller boy off course but he gritted his teeth, pain flaring in his side from the bludger that had clipped him and he shoved back, his eyes never leaving the bobbing and weaving golden snitch as he pushed his broom harder in an effort to close the distance.

They swerved again, the snitch now more on their right and Sommerby had the advantage. If they got close enough Harry would have to somehow reach across the other boy to get at the snitch. One more time, Sommerby swerved, attempting to hit Harry and he grinned when he noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye.

Harry suddenly lifted up on his broom, barrel rolling up and over the other seeker who swerved far out of alignment when the expected resistance suddenly wasn't there and Harry reached out, putting on one last burst of speed. The last thing he saw before his fingers closed with crushing force around the tiny winged ball was the look of utter surprise on Professor Snape's face, just before the Hufflepuff seeker slammed into him, sending them both tumbling fifteen feet to the pitch below.

" **And Sommerby takes out the greasy git-"**

" **JORDAN!"**

" **Sorry Professor McGonagall, I mean Sommerby accidentally crashes into Professor Snape, could have happened to anyone and… wait a minute… Yes! Potter has the snitch! Harry Potter has caught the Golden Snitch and this game is over. Thank Merlin for that."**

#####

There was little celebration after their win over Hufflepuff. The game had ended an astonishing 270 points to 40, and as the students left the stands most were talking in heated whispers over the actions of the Boy-Who-Lived.

Without waiting for his team, Harry had tossed aside the snitch, landed, and headed into the changing room to get out of his uniform. He showered quickly, washing away the sweat of his exertions and changed back into a casual set of clothes before heading out into the locker room proper to find the entire Gryffindor team sitting around, still in their Qudditch robes, waiting for him.

He stopped, staring at the six faces that all turned to him when he entered the room.

"What?" he asked, curtly.

"Potter, that was some amazing flying out there," Oliver started, "but…"

"But, what? I caught the snitch. I won us the damn game, what more to you want Oliver?" he barked, angrily.

"Harry, what you did out there was brutal, and unnecessary," Fred spoke up.

"Yeah, mate, we're-"

"more than good enough to stomp the Puffs-"

"without that kind of game play," he and his brother finished, looking at Harry with surprisingly serious expressions on their faces. He'd never once seen either of the twins with anything other than an easy grin and the somber, if not grave looks they gave him were a startling counterpoint.

Harry glowered at them. "I didn't break a single damn rule," he snapped. "Every move I made out there was in the book and totally fair. If you've got a problem with it, then kick me off the damn team. I don't give a fuck anymore."

Oliver started spluttering out some denial but Harry didn't wait to hear him. He just pushed his way through the room and stormed out, leaving the rest of them behind, staring at each other in confusion.

"Seriously. What the fuck crawled up that kids arse and died?" Oliver demanded.

No one had any answers for him.

#####

Harry stormed his way across the ground, muttering angrily to himself and shoving back the continued memories of his life at the Dursleys. All day, without his conscious thought, images from the past would assault him and he found his hands trembling and his nerves stretched tighter and tighter with every passing hour.

"Harry, wait!"

He stopped and turned to find Hermione, Daphne, and Susan waiting for him by the stands all three with expressions of mingled concern and irritation on their faces.

"What?" he snapped and immediately berated himself for his behavior. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? He just needed to be alone, needed to calm down, shove back the memories to-

"We need to talk to you, and you need to listen," Daphne told him, insistently, cutting into his rambling thoughts.

"I don't want to talk to anyone."

"I didn't say we were giving you the option this time, Harry."

He glared at the blond, his eyes hardening angrily and stomped closer to them. "And what makes you think you can make me?" he demanded. "The three of you have forced your way into my life, into my _head_. I don't get any peace and quiet anymore. You're there all the time. I wake up every night, screaming in terror that Voldemort's killed the three of you!" He ignored the startled gasps that revelation pulled from all three of them and continued ranting, "I've gotten really good at silencing charms since we got back to school. At least at the Boneyard I could check in the middle of the night, make sure you were all okay, but I can't do that here! If I could see that you were still alive and not ripped to bloody pieces I could go back to sleep but I CAN'T!"

He stopped suddenly, panting hard, chest heaving up and down as he pulled in huge gulps of air and his knees suddenly gave out on him as he slumped to his knees. Daphne grabbed hold of Hermione's and Susan's arms as the two girls immediately tried to rush toward him.

"I thought we'd had a little moment, last week, Harry," Daphne muttered in a saddened tone of voice. "I thought you were starting to understand that you can talk to us. You _can_ let us in."

He snorted, his hands trembling violently but he couldn't say anything. His chest felt tight, constricted, like a fist was wrapped around his heart. He couldn't see, a rushing sound filled his ears and muted voices crying out reached him when a hand suddenly landed tightly on his shoulder and Harry Potter knew no more.

#####

Harry opened his eyes slowly staring at the ceiling of the hospital wing. Even without his glasses the pristine white surface was easily identifiable as the only such space in the entire castle. He groaned and closed his eyes again.

"What the hell happened?" he muttered and went to lift one hand to rub at his forehead, hoping to push back the throbbing headache. When he couldn't move his arm his eyes shot open again and he tried again. He pulled at both arms but they appeared to be stuck to the bed and a rising sense of panic began to well up until a calm voice interrupted his frightened musings.

"You're being restrained with a sticking charm so you don't attack anyone again."

Harry whipped his head to his right to find a blurred form sitting in a chair by the bed.

"Healer Gant?" he asked, recognizing the voice. The figure moved, and arm reaching out from the blurred mass which came closer until his glasses were placed on his face and the Healer came into focus.

"You've caused a bit of trouble, Harry," the Healer told him, in a disappointed tone. "But I can't say it's entirely your fault."

Harry gaped at the man, his mouth moving silently several times before he finally stammered out, "I- I don't r-really remember. What the hell happened?"

The healer leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together in front of him. "Let's start with that," he said. "What _do_ you remember?"

"Why can't you just tell me-"

"I need to see what you can remember, Harry," Gant cut him off. "It's important so just work with me here. You're in a little bit of trouble but there's mitigating circumstances that we need to take advantage of right now to keep you out of the worst of it, understand?"

Harry didn't think he did understand, but he nodded and thought back as hard as he could.

"I woke up this morning…" he trailed off. "Is it still the same day as the Quidditch match?" he asked.

"Yes, it's Saturday evening. Dinner is being served right now in the Great Hall."

"Okay. So I was in a really bad mood this morning when I woke up. I'm not really sure why but I couldn't shake it. I got up and went to go practice my spells like I do every morning and the girls were waiting for me. They wanted to learn too and I didn't really want to fight with them over it, plus, I figured it couldn't hurt for them to know some knew defensive spells, right?"

Gant nodded but said nothing, merely gestured for Harry to continue.

"They worked on a few spells I showed them and I spent a couple hours working on a new one that I couldn't get down. That just kinda pissed me off more. We went back to the tower and I went to shower…" There he trailed off again and frowned as he thought harder about the last few hours. "The rest is kinda blurry," he admitted. "I remember being scared, and angry. I think I yelled at the girls," he added the last in a pained voice. "Oh man, they're going to hate me. Umm… the game… I remember being angry again… but it's all really blurry."

"That sounds about like what I'd expect, to be honest." Gant heaved out a sigh and sat back in his seat. "Okay, Harry. Here's what I've been able to piece together, and what I think happened. Your young ladies explained all of this to me earlier. After your practice session in the morning they said you went to shower and within minutes they felt the same kind of blind rage and terror that they felt over the holidays when the Floo triggered your memory. They stormed the boys dormitory, trying to get to you and said that after you came out, dressed, and apparently calm, you cut them off. You closed down the link you share with them."

Harry groaned and closed his eyes again, letting his head fall back on the pillow. "Shite," he moaned. "They're _really_ going to hate me, aren't they?" he tried to focus on his link to the girls and found it readily enough but the emotions he felt coming from than were far more muted than he was used to. Their presence in his mind felt… less than he was used to.

"I can't say for sure but I doubt they would really hate you, Harry," Gant assured him. "Upset with you? Disappointed? Most likely, but I don't think they could ever truly hate you."

Harry opened his eyes again but didn't say anything.

"Anyway, during the game you were rather violent and brutal against the Hufflepuff team according to all reports. Didn't break any rules of play, but still. The girls apparently tried to talk to you when you were leaving the pitch and you went off on a screaming rant at them which ended with Professor Snape, bruised and injured himself from a collision with the Hufflepuff Seeker, approaching and grabbing your shoulder from behind."

Harry winced. Even when he was calm he reacted violently to being grabbed unexpectedly, he could only imagine what may have happened.

"You became rather violent, attacking the Professor for some minutes until you were finally stunned and brought here."

"Crap. Snape was probably thrilled with that."

Gant couldn't hide a smirk. "Yes, he has been quite loudly telling anyone within hearing how he's going to have you expelled. But," he added when a look of terror flitted across Harry's face, "I have assurances from the Headmaster that you are safe from that, but not from any punishment."

Gant observed Harry for a moment as the young man lay in the bed.

"Are you calm right now?" he asked and Harry nodded, confused by the question. "If I let you loose so you can sit up do you think you're likely to go off attacking anyone?"

"No, I promise I won't do anything."

Gant grunted, but reached into his robes and withdrew his wand, dispelling the charms holding Harry in place. Harry sat up, noticing that he was still dressed in the same clothes from earlier in the day, and also that Gant did not put his wand away.

"So here's what I think happened, Harry. I think you had a panic attack. Different from what happened at the Boneyard. The girls interrupted it when you were in the showers and got through to you, but you cut them out before they could help you. Your nerves were raw and you were in a bad state and then went into an emotionally and adrenaline charged situation like a Quidditch match. Put all together, it was a recipe for disaster."

"I don't understand."

"You're under a lot of stress right now, kid. Lack of sleep, fear from these nightmares you've been having, everything else that's going on in your life." He shrugged. "You just couldn't take it."

Harry stared down at his hands in his lap and starting plucking at the sheet bunched around his waist. "So… am I getting kicked out of school?" he asked, terrified to hear the answer.

Gant shook his head, staring at Harry intently. "No, but you're going to be put under a few… restrictions going forward."

Harry sighed and nodded. "What kind of restrictions?"

"Well, first of all, you're going to have to serve a month of detentions with Professor Snape to make up for your attack on him."

"What! But I don't even remember it. And Snape hates me!"

"That doesn't matter, Harry. Yes, it wasn't entirely your fault but you still lashed out and attacked a Professor. You can't get away with that without some kind of repercussions."

Harry frowned but nodded.

"Madam Pomfrey also has a calming draught for you basically whenever you need but you can't abuse them, Harry. You need to start learning to deal with these emotions and work them out on your own. To that end I'll be offering you a few exercises you can try and also I want you to start including a workout regimen.

"We need to build up your body more as well as working on your mind." He shifted his weight in his chair and studied his patient carefully. "This isn't the end of the world, kid. I want to apologize for my part in this. I thought you had a better handle on our conversation yesterday but it looks like I was wrong and I should have seen that coming."

"It's not your fault I'm screwed up," Harry muttered.

"And it isn't your fault either," Gant pointed out. "You're going to have to learn to forgive yourself eventually, kid."

Harry didn't say anything for a time, and simply stared at the sheet in his lap.

Finally, Gant sighed and pushed on his knees, leveraging himself to his feet. "You're stable for now kid. Poppy will explain what you need to do going forward and I'll be back to see you on Friday for our weekly session. Listen to the people around you, try to forgive yourself, make the apologies you need to and move on." He leaned forward and patted Harry's shoulder for a moment. "Now I think there are some young ladies who really need to talk to you. I'll distract Poppy for as long as I can, okay? Good luck." He gave Harry a wink and quickly walked away as Daphne, Hermione, and Susan stood from where they'd been sitting against the wall and approached Harry's bed.

Harry had rarely felt more nervous in his life. He'd been horrible to them, that much he knew. And that fear that they would eventually abandon him, fed up with all his problems and issues… it wrapped a cold fist of fear around his heart and squeezed, tightly.

"I'm so-"

"Hermione!" Daphne and Susan cried out, nearly in unison as, before Harry could finish speaking, Hermione's hand flashed out and cracked loudly against his cheek. His head whipped hard to the right from the force of the slap and his cheek stung fiercely, eyes wide in equal parts shock and hurt.

When he looked back at them, Hermione was trembling, her eyes brimming with tears and her face fluctuating between anger. remorse, and fear. Without saying another word she spun on her heel and fled the hospital wing before he could even attempt to say anything to her.

"You really screwed up this time, Harry," Susan pointed out in a low, angry tone. "I get it, to a degree, but you're going to need to make it up to her, to us. You have no idea what you did to us." Her blue eyes were hard with anger and she quickly followed after Hermione as Daphne sighed and sank into the seat that Gant had left by the bed, taking in the gobsmacked expression on Harry's face.

"Do you understand what it is you did, Harry?" she asked gently.

"You're not pissed at me too?" he asked sullenly.

"Oh no, I'm plenty mad at you. But if no one explains to you what you did wrong, I realize you're too damn thick to really figure it out for yourself." He wanted to immediately deny her claim, but realized she was probably right so he sat back and waited patiently for her to continue.

"You know how you were explaining how you dampen your pain and emotions so we don't feel them as much?" she asked and he nodded. It wasn't that long ago, of course he remembered. "Well, when you do that, we can still feel you, just very dimly." She paused and looked up at the ceiling for a moment as she tried to figure out how to explain what she meant. "I mean, you're still there, but we actually have to focus to feel your presence in our heads. Otherwise you're just drowned out by our thoughts, and any distractions that are around us. Does that make sense?"

He nodded again.

"Well this morning, when you shut us down, you completely shut us down. We couldn't feel you at all. You blocked the link entirely and that was, I think, the singularly most painful experience I've ever felt in my life."

Harry cringed, his eyes widening even further than before. "Oh gods," he whispered. "Daphne, I.. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to… I didn't want… oh shite." He hunched over and dropped his face into his hands. "I was just… there was so much in my head," he moaned. "So many voices, so many memories, I just needed quiet. I couldn't hear myself think, I couldn't breathe."

"That's when you rely on us, Harry," she hissed, anger flashing briefly in her eyes. "Dammit, Potter, how many times do we have to tell you we're here for you and you just keep pushing us away."

"I've been trying," he pointed out, trying not to sound like he was whining.

"And we appreciate that, we really do. Hermione will come around, she was just extremely hurt by what you did. You might want to try not hiding yourself from us for a while. Reassure her that you're still here."

They sat in silence for a few moments before Daphne remembered something else that she hesitated to mention, but knew that if she didn't, it would only be worse for everyone.

"Harry, there's something else I need to tell you."

He looked up, a hint of fear in his face.

"Malfoy somehow knows about your meetings with the Mind Healer. I can probably guess how he found out but I don't have any proof."

Harry groaned and covered his face with his hands again. "How?" he asked, his voice muffled.

"Lucius Malfoy is on the Board of Governors. You mentioned they were forcing the meetings right?"

He nodded again.

"I'd be willing to bet he sent Draco a letter, gleefully telling him all about it."

He nodded again and she reached out to squeeze his hand. "It'll get better," she assured him. "But you're going to have to face the music first.

As she stood, he gave her a confused look, but when she walked away his eyes landed on the disapproving stare of Madam Pomfrey and all the color drained from his face.

"Oh, shite."

#####

"Hermione, wait!"

Hermione's quick, angry strides slowed, slightly, as she let Susan catch up to her. The two were a couple of inches different in height with Susan just enough taller that when she wrapped her arms around Hermione, she was able to comfortably rest her cheek against the red heads shoulder, her own arms coming up to wrap around Susan's waist in a tight embrace.

"I hate him," she whimpered and felt Susan shake her head.

"No you don't, love. You're angry with him, and you're hurt, but you know he didn't mean it, and you know he'll be beating himself up worse than anything we could do to him, really."

Hermione didn't say anything for a time and just relished in the feelings of comfort coming from the red head that was wrapped around her. More than anything, the day had shown her a new appreciation for the other girls in their bond. Without Susan and Daphne, Hermione was entirely certain that she would have completely fallen apart. If she really had been alone with Harry in their bond… she didn't want to think of it.

"Come on," Susan whispered. "Let's go back to the common room and just relax. I think we need a little Harry free and stress free time for a bit. In all the fuss I forgot to tell you that Auntie Amy finally sent those Occlumency books I asked for months ago. You can have first crack at 'em, how's that sound?"

"How many books did she send? Are they long?" Hermione asked, sounding a little more upbeat as Susan began to lead her down the hall, one arm still wrapped around Hermione's shoulders.

"There's three of them **.** One is on the longer side but the other two…"

#####

Sunday morning found the students of Hogwarts still talking in small huddles about the game the day before. Rumors flew rampant about the school, helpfully encouraged by Draco Malfoy. Wherever Harry passed in the halls, the whispers and stares followed him, worse than ever before and he did his best to ignore them, walking along with only Neville for company.

"You don't have to stick with me, Nev," Harry muttered morosely later in the morning as the two sat in the Library working on their homework. "I'm sure you don't want to be seen with a nutter."

Neville looked up from his essay, almost glaring at his friend. "I'm not saying the motto again, Harry," he muttered back, aware that Madam Pince was prowling the Library, looking for students causing a disruption in her domain. "So, quit fishing already. You're my friend, and I'm not going to leave you by yourself, especially while the girls are upset with you."

Harry gave him a weak smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and turned his attention back to his essay. He could still feel them, at least, there at the back of his mind. He'd taken Daphne's advice to heart and kept the link as wide open as he could, consciously making the decision to open himself to the girls. They, conversely, were all three exercising the trick he'd explained to Daphne and were suppressing the link on their end. Not completely, as he'd done the day before. But enough that he had to concentrate to feel them and he was starting to understand just how disconcerting a sensation it was to have their presence suddenly so small when before they were a constant in his head.

He felt small, realizing the level of pain he'd put them through. He'd sworn that he would never hurt them, never let them be hurt if there was anything he could possibly do about it, and then he went and pulled that idiot move, cutting them off entirely. It'd hurt him to do it too, he'd been aware enough at the time to recognize the pain searing through him at their loss. But the fear and chaos his mind had been thrown into drowned it out.

He deserved that pain, he decided, but they hadn't. He really needed to find a way to make it up to them.

"They'll get over it," Neville told him quietly, without looking up from his essay.

"What?"

"The girls. They're upset with you right now, but give them time, and apologize, and they'll be back."

"They've been avoiding me since they left the Hospital wing yesterday."

"They're upset." Neville finally looked up again. "They need a little space. You can't begrudge them that. Give them time."

Harry nodded and the two boys spent the rest of the morning until lunch working and talking quietly. Harry knew he had apologies to make over a wide number of people. He'd screwed up, big time. And Neville helped him plan what he needed to do.

When they finally made their way to the Great Hall for lunch, Harry hopefully looked down the length of the Gryffindor table to find his girls sitting together, and with no space anywhere near them for him to sit with them. His face fell, but he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and marched his way down the center of the wide aisle in the middle of the hall toward the Staff Table.

It didn't take long for people to notice him, and slowly, the noise level in the Hall dropped as people stopped talking, and stopped eating, to silently observe him. _I wonder if I'm ever going to stop feeling like some kind of exotic fish on display for people to gawk at,_ he wondered.

Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster watched him with veiled curiosity, Snape with a sneer of disgust as he approached and Flitwick with naked interest as Harry stopped in front of Professor Sprout. He'd always liked the slightly dumpy little professor. She was cheerful, pleasant, and didn't treat anyone any differently. She'd always treated him as any other student, and for that alone he would always be grateful.

"Professor Sprout?" he asked, respectfully.

The professor eyed him, not without a little anger. She did not at all appreciate how the lion before her had treated her Badgers the day before, and while she knew he had already been punished, she still wasn't thrilled to see him.

"What is it, Mister Potter?" she asked in a curt tone.

"I was wondering if I might please address your house at some point today? I believe I owe them a few words." He and Neville had carefully worked out the wording before coming down. He needed something properly formal, but not pleading. He couldn't come off as a child begging. He was a child. But he needed to accept responsibility for his mistakes, and acting his age wouldn't help him.

She studied him carefully for a few moments, a glimmer of possible understanding in her eye before she gave a short nod. "After Lunch," she said. "Wait for me at your table and I will take you."

"Thank you, Professor." He nodded to her and made his way back to his table as the noise level slowly increased and he slid into a seat next to Neville. He glanced down the table to find Hermione, Daphne, and Susan engaged in a quiet conversation, not one of them looking his way.

"They were watching you up there," Neville said as Harry started to fill his plate. He didn't put much on it, his stomach was rolling and he didn't feel that he'd be able to eat a lot.

"Thank's Nev."

Neville patted his shoulder and turned his attention to his food.

In time, the Hall slowly emptied as students finished their meals and left for parts unknown. Some to play games or relax with their friends while others would likely be doing last minute bits of homework. Eventually, long after Neville had already left, as well as the girls, without a backwards glance at him, Harry heard a throat clearing behind him and he turned to find Professor Sprout waiting.

"Follow me, Mister Potter."

He stood and quickly fell into step with her as she led him down to the dungeons and down a hallway heading away from the Potions classroom and toward a wall where a stack of wooden barrels stood. She directed him to stop before she approached the barrels and whispered the password. A cleverly hidden door opened and she gestured for him to follow into the Hufflepuff common room.

He looked around as he entered, startled to find that it was very similar to the Gryffindor Common Room except for the coloring. It had similar furniture and more than one good sized fireplace. The couches and chairs all looked quite comfortable and the room was filled with the entire student body of Hufflepuffs. With so many eyes staring at him, many with open hostility, he suddenly found his mouth dry as the carefully prepared words he'd planned fled his mind and his nerves ratcheted up to a new level.

He turned and muttered quietly to Professor Sprout for a moment.

"Could I ask the Quidditch team to please come forward here?" she asked and pointed to a spot in the front of the assembled students. It took a few minutes, but eventual,y the entire team was assembled and the rest of the students fell in behind them in support, every last one of them staring at Harry who took a step forward and cleared his throat.

This was _not_ going to be pleasant.

"Thank you," he said, "all of you, for being here. And you, Professor, for arranging this." Harry kept his focus mostly on the Quidditch team, but let his eyes move periodically to other students in the house as well. "I asked Professor Sprout for this opportunity to speak to all of you because I feel you all deserve an explanation."

"Not an apology?" a voice shouted from somewhere in the back.

"Mister Smith-" the professor started, but Harry waved her off.

"That too, but I wanted to start with the explanation." Some of the students shifted slightly, but no one said anything else. "I'm sure you've all heard the rumors going around school? That I'm seeing a Mind Healer?"

Again, no one spoke, but the shifting of bodies was even more than previously.

"Well, it's true." He shifted his weight from foot to foot, fighting to keep his hands at his sides despite the desire to stroke the scar behind his jaw. "I haven't had a great life," he admitted. "The books I've heard have been written about me? Whatever they said about my life before school is a lie. I've never spoken to anyone about it before Friday, and I've never given any interviews or anything. I would really rather not go into specifics, but it wasn't pleasant, where I was raised. Anyway, over the Christmas Holidays I had… an episode, one might say. Something happened that brought up a very old, very frightening memory.

"I blew a hole in a wall at Bones Manor as a result. Because of what I've gone through… well some people felt I should see a healer to try and deal with it. On Friday, I had to give a more detailed account of what my life has been like before now. That's something I honestly never wanted to talk about to anyone. And it hurt, a lot, to talk about it."

Harry's head was down. He couldn't look at the faces of the students as he talked and he just pushed on, eager to hurry up and finish. "Yesterday when I woke up in the morning, apparently I was still suffering from that talk. I was emotionally distraught and a lot of bad memories kept creeping up that I didn't want to deal with. I was scared and I was hurt. During the game I got angry, and it was easier to be angry than to be scared and I took that anger out on you.

"That's the explanation for what happened yesterday. And none of you deserved that. It isn't your fault I was a mess, and I'm very, very sorry for how I behaved toward your team and your House."

He fell silent, and for a time no one moved or spoke. Eventually, Harry noticed a pair of shoes stop in his field of vision and he looked up to find a handsome boy standing in front of him with an easy smile on his face.

"Cedric Diggory," he said, holding out his hand. "I can imagine that was a really hard thing for you to say to us, and I, for one, appreciate it. Thank you, Harry."

Shocked, Harry hesitantly reached out and accepted the offered hand. Slowly, one after another, the rest of the house came forward, thanked Harry, and shook his hand. When Hannah approached, she drew him into a hug.

"Thanks, Harry," she whispered in his ear. "And give Susan some time. They'll forgive you, don't worry."

After they'd all returned to their seats Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to look up at Professor Sprout who was offering him a warm smile and a watery gaze.

"Thank you, Harry," she said. "Mister Diggory had the right of it. I can't imagine that was an easy thing for you at all, but it's exactly the kind of action that is appreciated in this House." She gave his shoulder a squeeze and turned her attention back to her Badgers. "As Mister Potter has told us all something very personal, I will be extremely put out if I hear one bit of this being repeated anywhere in the castle, am I understood?" she said in a suddenly stern voice that reminded him strongly of Professor McGonagall.

"Yes, Professor," the entire house chimed out in unison.

"Very good. Off with you."

With that they all stood and went their separate ways as the professor lead Harry back out into the corridor.

"That was a good thing you did there," Professor Sprout told him as the hidden door swung closed behind them. "I will admit, I was quite upset with your actions yesterday. You didn't break any rules, but that was rather poor sportsmanship. I'm… pleased to hear that that was not what we can come to expect of you, Mister Potter."

Harry winced and shrugged. "Well, I'm not sure anyone can expect anything of me for long. I've been told that Professor McGonagall may be removing me from the team. I've got a meeting with her in a couple of days to discuss it."

She patted his shoulder again and offered him a warm, comforting smile. "I'm sure things will work out, young man. Now, off with you. Try to enjoy the rest of your day as best you can."

Harry gave her a nod and a small smile and started to walk away before he stopped and turned back to her.

"Did Professor Dumbledore explain to you what happened during the sorting?" he asked, startling the little professor with the unexpected question.

"Are you referring to your connection to the three girls that spend so much of their time with you?" she asked, and he nodded. "He did mention, after the flying lesson where you were injured, that you shared a bond with them."

"I just thought you might like to know, Susan would normally have been in your House. She's the rock. The constant that keeps us all on an even keel. She's loyal, and kind, she's warm and pleasant. I just think, she would have really made an excellent Hufflepuff. I think you'd have been proud of her."

He turned and walked away heading off to look for Neville. He'd promised to help him with his Charms work, and Harry knew that the coming days were going to be difficult.


	13. Falling In

**Author's Note: Okay, so I think I mentioned in the note to my last chapter that I had a day or two where I was having some difficulty writing because of a problem with my eye. Well, that problem reared its ugly head, once again, and for four days I was in a ridiculous amount of pain and barely able to see from my right eye. A situation which resulted in an Emergency Room visit, and a referral to a specialist. End result was a diagnosis of something called Anterior Uveitis. Basically the membrane behind my Iris and Cornea became inflamed causing my eye to become red, (the white of it at least) it was extremely painful, caused blurred vision and excessive tearing, and severe photophobia or light sensitivity. I ended up getting a steroidal eye drop to deal with it that I have to use every two hours for a few days and then every four hours for another week.**

 **So basically it's been one gigantic pain in the ass (or in the eye) and I was completely unable to get any writing done for about five days. So because of that, I apologize that this chapter is later than my usual Tuesday post. Hey, in my defense, I haven't missed a deadline until now, that's not a bad record, really.**

 **Because of this interruption in my writing schedule, I will not be having a new chapter up next Tuesday August 1** **st** **, as would be my usual plan. I am going to take the time to really work on the chapters coming up and instead I'll have the next one up on Tuesday, Augst 8** **th** **. Apologies for the delay, but again, at least I've got a good reason.**

 **Anyway, in other news, here we have chapter 12 of Soul Scars. Last chapter there was quite a bit of chaos and mayhem broke out and as I had the single greatest number of reviews on a single chapter and people had a LOT to say about it, I wanted to remind you guys that I made a point in the reviews that I was able to respond to that a lot of the chaos would get resolved or dealt with to a degree in this chapter and that's what I have endeavored to do. Hopefully this meets with approval all around.**

 **Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs not to me. I'm just having some fun playing in their world.**

Soul Scars

By,

Rtnwriter

Mister and Missus Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were never involved with anything strange or mysterious for no other reason than they simply didn't hold with such nonsense.

Early on a monday morning in February, Vernon Dursley settled his considerable bulk into his large, and rather beaten, armchair in the sitting room, the telly turned to the morning news, while Petunia went about preparing breakfast in the kitchen. Vernon was in an inordinately good mood for a Monday. He had plans to finalize a large contract with an overseas buyer that morning, and if the reports he'd demanded be completed over the weekend weren't sitting on his desk when he got in, well, he'd be firing someone before lunch.

He so enjoyed firing people.

Since the _freak_ was gone at that freak school of his, he'd had no one to properly vent his frustrations on. He knew the deal that fell through the previous month had to be the freaks fault, somehow, even if he was hundreds of miles away. His good mood darkened and he glowered at the television as not even the thought of firing someone could lift his spirits.

He scowled, even more fiercely, his bushy mustache twitching dangerous when there suddenly came a loud knocking at the front door. Who in the blazes would be knocking at… he glanced at the clock on the wall… seven thirty in the bleed'n morning? Grumbling irritably he leveraged himself to his feet, an accomplishment that would have seemed impossible to some, but he still did it.

The floor boomed hollowly under his feet as he moved his prodigious bulk down the hall, past the kitchen, and into the entry way where he grabbed the doorknob in one beefy hand and yanked it open.

"What!" he bellowed.

When Amelia Bones made her way from the back of the car, accompanied by two Inspectors with Scotland Yard, she had to fight to keep the smile from her face at the sight of the unnaturally pristine house.

"Number Four, Privet Drive," she muttered, carefully checking the address against the pile of documents she held in her hand. "This is the place." They started forward, and over the short walk, she found herself thinking back over the information contained in the documents.

The Uncle was apparently a great brute of a man, overweight and with a tempter to match his size, at least in regards to anything he deemed 'unnatural', usually meaning his nephew. The Aunt didn't seem to be an instigator in any of the abuse, but she certainly hadn't done much, if anything, to prevent it either, according to the report from Healer Gant. The question was, was she a willing participant, or was she acting under the fear of receiving the same treatment that Harry did at the hands of his Uncle?

Amelia hadn't been happy to hear about the breakdown Harry'd had the day after his Friday visit with Gant. She felt a pang of guilt for her part in what the poor kid had been through, but it _had_ been a necessary evil if they wanted to get this case moved along. Without a formal complaint from the child, and without testimony, there was only so much they could legally do. He'd had to specifically identify his attackers, by name, or any case they built could have been thrown out of a muggle court.

She reasoned they could have just hauled his fat ass into wizarding court, but since muggles had no rights whatsoever in the wizarding world, she felt it could easily have been twisted into a proverbial witch hunt, dragging the fat lump in front of a court that was predisposed to rule against him no matter what crimes he'd been charged with. That could have caused it's own kind of trouble with the media and the public in general. Sure, few of the pureblood families would have cared, but did she really want to take the chance?

No.

Better to move things through the muggle courts with every 'i' dotted and ever 't' crossed, as it were.

She stepped up onto the short stoop out front and raised her hand, unable to fight back the grin as she knocked loudly on the front door. From inside she and the two inspectors could hear movement followed by extremely heavy sounding footsteps until the door was, quite suddenly, yanked open as a loud, obnoxious voice bellowed, "What!"

"Mister Dursley?" she asked, keeping her face schooled into a stern, professional, expression.

"Yes, who the devil are you?"

"Mister Vernon Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, Surrey?" she asked and he nodded impatiently.

"Yes, yes, that is the address you're standing at. What the hell do you want?"

"Mister Vernon Dursley, married to Petunia Dursley, father of Dudley Dursley." She paused and looked up from the paperwork she'd glanced down at as she was pretending to read from it and looked the overgrown lump directly into his hateful, beady eyes. "Uncle, by Marriage, to one Harry James Potter?" she asked, a truly vindictive smirk spreading across her lips as she did.

The screaming and cursing, it was later said, could be heard from two blocks away with perfect clarity.

#####

When Harry woke at his usual time of five in the morning and got dressed in the dark on Monday, he felt considerably better than he had all weekend. Since leaving the hospital wing on Saturday, none of the girls had spoken to him. They hadn't sat near him at meals, or joined him and Neville to do their homework. At first, he'd been hurt by their reaction, particularly Hermione when she slapped him. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized they might have overreacted, but they weren't entirely wrong, either.

He _had_ cut off their link entirely. He'd cut them free of his mind. And after so many years with his emotions and mind a constant presence within their own… he could only imagine how jarring and painful that must have been. He'd talked long into the night about the situation with Neville just the night before, long after the girls and the rest of their House had all gone up to their dormitories to bed.

And that was another new plus in his life, the pluses needed to be counted and kept track of, he felt. The more positives he had to think about, the better. Neville had been a friend since their first day on the train, but as time had past he'd become a better and closer friend with every passing day, and this newest incident, just cemented in Harry's mind that Neville truly believed the motto he spouted whenever needed.

Wherever a Potter goes, a Longbottom will stand beside him.

Silently, last night while sitting by the fire and talking with Neville, Harry had sworn to himself that he would honor the commitment that Neville had already shown to him. Whenever Neville had need of him, there would be no questions asked, Harry would drop whatever he was doing, if at all possible, and he would be at the other boys side ready to fight or support his friend.

Finished dressing, he slipped from the dorm and made his way down the stairs, his mind turning over his plans for the day as he stroked that scar behind his jaw, something he'd found himself doing less and less often over the past few months. He needed to make amends to the girls, he decided. He still had a meeting coming up with Professor McGonagall regarding his actions during the Quidditch game. Again, no rules broken, but at the level of school play, he hadn't shown very good sportsmanship. There had been no need for any of his actions, and it hadn't even been about the game, it'd been his own anger that caused his actions against the Hufflepuff team.

So that was the list he set himself:

Make things up to the girls.

See to his meeting with his Head of House, and hopefully he wasn't kicked off the Quidditch team.

Oh, he needed to apologize to his own team first, especially Oliver for swearing at him. The Captain hadn't deserved that from him.

He should probably talk to Professor McGonagall about the detentions he had coming up. Snape _hated_ him. How was it fair to put him in detention for a month with a man that hated his guts for no discernible reason? Could he get it argued to hold his detentions with someone else? Maybe Professor Sprout? Or Professor Flitwick? Flitwick was at least impartial and wouldn't-

"Harry?"

Harry froze mid-step, half way across the common room and heading for the portrait hole to begin his morning spell practice. The voice had been completely unexpected. They'd been avoiding him. They were pissed at him, and he couldn't entirely blame them even if he still felt it wasn't totally his fault and they'd overreacted at least a little bit.

He turned, slowly, until he was facing their spot by the fire. They were all there. All three of them with Hermione in the middle, as usual, and Susan and Daphne on her right and left sides, respectively. They didn't look angry, he felt. They looked… tired? Sad? He couldn't place their facial expressions and he didn't try to search for their feelings with their link. He knew they were still suppressing their emotions, as he'd done before.

"Harry," Daphne said again when he didn't move for several long moments. "Please, come sit with us?"

He didn't say anything, but his feet carried him, almost without his conscious thought, across the Common Room until he found himself sinking gently into his chair, facing the three of them on their sofa. Hermione and Susan looked exhausted, he realized on closer inspection. Their eyes were red and puffy, as if they'd been crying, and there were dark circles under their eyes as well. Clear signs of sleep deprivation, something he was only too familiar with as he still woke at least once per night from the same horrid nightmare.

"I'm so-" he started to say but was cut off again when Daphne lifted a hand, thankfully not to slap him as Hermione had done days previously.

"Not snapping at you, Harry," Daphne said in an exhausted tone of voice. "But please, we have something to say to you and we'd like you to let us get it out first before you say anything."

He frowned but nodded, his stomach twisting itself into knots. Was this when they decided to tell him they were fed up and wanted nothing more to do with him? He'd always suspected it would happen, sooner or later, despite all assurances about their bond or their wanting to be his friend and be there for him.

"We're sorry."

Harry blinked.

 _That_ was not remotely what he'd been expecting.

"Huh?"

He almost smiled when Daphne smirked. "Eloquent as ever, Potter," she murmured and Susan giggled quietly for a second as Daphne repeated the words she'd said to him just after he saved Susan's life from a fall off her broom.

"We mean it," Susan spoke up. "We're sorry for how we reacted. You… you were awful the other day, but it wasn't entirely your fault. You couldn't help how you were hurting, and instead of helping you, we got angry with you. We promised we'd be here for you and we screwed up."

"I can't believe I slapped you."

It was barely a whisper and Harry felt a tendril of fear trickle down his spine at the deadened sound of Hermione's voice. He realized her gaze was glassy, emotionless, and she looked even worse than Susan.

"Well, I kind of deserved it," he admitted, hoping to reassure her.

Hermione violently shook her head, her wild mane tossing back and forth so fast that Susan actually leaned slightly away from the other girl to avoid getting slapped by the mass of untamed curls. "No," she insisted. "No, you didn't deserve it. You were hurting, and upset an-"

"And I hurt you," Harry cut her off, gently. "Daphne explained to me how you all felt when I cut the link like I did. I swear, I didn't realize that would hurt you, but that doesn't matter. I swore I would never hurt any of you and I fucked that up royally. So if anyone needs to apologize, I do."

Hermione stared at him, a glimmer in her eyes for a moment before a small smile curved her lips. "Language," she said, quietly, and he broke into a broad grin.

They lapsed into silence, each smiling gently as some of the pain of the last few days bled away. Not all, and there would be work to be done to get back to where they were, but, Harry felt that they were already making decent strides.

"Heading out to practice?" Daphne asked after a time and he nodded.

"Did you want to come with?"

Hermione and Susan shook their heads. "No," Daphne told him. "We're all exhausted. We haven't really been able to get much sleep since Friday, and we were up very early that day, too, so we're going to go back to bed, we just didn't want to put this off any longer. We… we've really missed you."

"I've missed you three, too."

Together, the four of them stood and Hermione took a half a step forward to hug him before she paused, suddenly unsure if she should, if she would be welcome. In the few moments when she hesitated, Harry made the decision for her as he reached out and grasped her hand which she'd already lifted in preparation to wrap her arms around him. Her mouth dropped open as he tugged on her arm, pulling her, stumbling, forward and into his open arms.

For it being the first time that Harry Potter had ever initiated a hug with someone, Hermione had to say, the boy was damn good at it. His arms wrapped firmly, but not too tightly around her body, pressing her against his chest and she let out a quiet sigh as the last of the tension left her body and her own arms came up to wrap around him. He was still tense, she could feel the stiffness in his frame as she pressed her cheek against his shoulder, but she could tell that it was considerably less than at any other time that she'd hugged him.

When he released her, she stepped back and he gave her a small smile before he moved past her and pulled Susan into a hug, the Daphne. He didn't say anything else, but he felt their emotions come across the link more strongly than before, and that told him everything. Giving them another small smile he made his way to the portrait hole and out into the rest of the castle.

As the three girls trekked their way up the stairs to their dorm they couldn't help the broad smiles on their lips. It looked like Harry really was getting better, and they were even more determined not to make the same mistakes, and be there with him for every step of the journey.

#####

Breakfast that morning did little to damper Harry's growing good mood. The whispers and stares rolled off of him as he walked to the Great Hall with the girls flanking him and Neville walking on Hermione's right side. The girls had managed to get another two hours of sleep which had done wonders for them all but they did still seem a little tired. Neville was beaming at anyone and everything, simply thrilled that the tense atmosphere that had existed between the four bonded had finally broken. He hadn't been looking forward to it continuing through the week.

For the first time since the Christmas holidays, there seemed to be a lightness to the group. They weren't worrying about the third floor corridor in that moment, or Fluffy, or the Stone. Harry seemed brighter, and more cheerful than Neville could remember him being in the months since they'd met on the train.

"The three most important people in my world are talking to me again and we're not mad at each other any longer," he said, missing how all three girls flushed brightly at his words. "I'm enjoying a good breakfast with the best friends I've ever had in my life," he added with a pointed look at Neville. "Yeah, the next few weeks are going to be filled with moments of total suck, but I just need to deal with it and we'll worry about everything that comes our way as it does."

"Very well said, Mister Potter," McGonagall said from behind him, causing him to spin quickly on the bench to look up at his Head of House.

"Thank, you, Professor," He muttered, flushing slightly. He hadn't really intended for anyone but his friends to hear him say that.

"I wanted to inform you that this evening's plans have changed," she said, moving on in her usual brusque manner. "You will not be attending your first detention with Professor Snape. Instead, immediately after dinner, I would like for you, Miss Granger, Miss Bones, and Miss Greengrass to meet with me in my office."

Harry and the girls all exchanged a series of looks for a moment before turning back to their Head of House and Harry shrugged. "Okay, Professor. We'll see you in class?"

"She nodded, that same soft look around her eyes whenever she looked at him directly. "Indeed, Mister Potter." She nodded to the rest of them and then swept away toward the head table.

"What's that about?" Neville asked, curiously.

Harry shrugged again. "No idea, Mate. We'll find out tonight, I guess."

The rest of the day passed without significant incident. Harry in particular was pleased to avoid having to deal with Snape so soon after the events of Saturday. Any time he and the Potions Master were in the Great Hall at the same time, Harry could feel the older man's heated glared leveled at him and did not relish the idea of what might be in store for him during detentions.

Their classes went well, despite continued staring and whispering from the majority of the student body, with the exception of those from Hufflepuff. They appeared to have taken Harry's apology to heart and as far as they were concerned, it was all water under the bridge. Cedric even stopped Harry and the girls in the hall way at one point and held a brief, but pleasant, conversation with them for a few minutes before the older boy was called away by some of his friends.

By the time dinner was over the four bonded made their way to their Head of House's office with a slight sense of trepidation. After all, the last few times Harry'd been in that office hadn't ended well, or had been painful and unpleasant at best.

When Harry knocked gently on the office door they waited for the call to enter from inside and then the four of them pushed their way into the office to find Professor McGonagall sitting behind her desk with four chairs arranged in a slight half circle in front of the desk. Instead of the usual neat stacks of parchment and her blotter and quills and ink, the desk had been cleared and an elegant tea set sat on the smoothly polished wooden surface.

"Professor?" Harry asked, looking uncertainly at the desk.

"Mister Potter," she said. "Miss Bones, Miss Granger, Miss Greengrass," she added with a nod to each person named. "Please, come sit and have some tea."

Exchanging confused looks, but unwilling to possibly insult their aged professor, the four of them sat, accepting a cup of steaming tea each. They sat in silence for several long minutes, the children looking at their Professor with mounting confusion until finally Harry couldn't stand it any longer.

"Professor?" he asked. "Not that this isn't pleasant, but, why are we here?"

She stared at them for a moment longer before she sighed, suddenly looking much older than she had previously appeared.

"Mister Potter, Miss Granger, Miss Bones, and Miss Greengrass," she started before pausing for a second to give them a sidelong look. "That really is quite a mouthful to list off," she muttered, giving them a small smile that barely turned the corners of her lips. "Anyway, I feel I must apologize to you all."

The four of them blinked, surprised by the aged Professors actions. "Um… for what?" Harry asked, cautiously.

"For letting emotions get the better of us. And, for failing you all." She held up a hand to stall them when they all started to speak. "First of all, the troll that got into this school should never have been faced by a first year student, or any student, for that matter. The fact that we didn't know where it was or how it got in is beside the point as we, the staff, are in charge of your safety, as well as all the other students in this school. We _should_ have known more, or done better in that instance.

"Also, in regards to my own actions… The level of detention handed down for your actions on Saturday Mister Potter. Yes you attacked a teacher, but it can be argued that you were not in your right mind at the time, or even aware of your actions. Therefore a month of detentions, I have decided, is excessive. I have spent the entire weekend arguing with Professor Snape and the Headmaster and have managed to get your detentions reduced to two weeks, however I could not get them to agree to you serving those detentions with another teacher. You will still have to attend them with Professor Snape, himself."

Harry was stuck between elated at the reduction and disappointed that it couldn't have been removed entirely, but he took what he could get and decided to be grateful for that much.

Moving on the professor picked up a slip of parchment off of her desk and handed it across to Harry. "Healer Gant asked me to give that to you and expressed a hope that you might have a response for me to send back to him."

Harry nodded absently and opened the note, holding it so the girls could read it at the same time as him.

 _Mister Potter-_

 _Hey Kid, sorry to do this by note, but I figured you probably weren't much interested in seeing me after the events this weekend. I wanted to apologize for a simple mistake that I made. Simple, but it resulted in nothing short of pain and chaos for you. After our session on Friday, I made an assumption that I should never have made. In my defense I will point out that this situation is a tad outside what any other healer has ever had to deal with, but that doesn't absolve me from my mistakes._

 _After our session, I expected that you would talk with the girls that share your bond. I expected you to be open with them, to let out the negatives and let them be that rock for you to lean on in that moment of weakness, much as I've heard they've leaned on you in several instances so far this school year. I expected, I assumed._

 _I regret that I didn't once ask, or inform you that perhaps it might be a good idea for you to let them in and unload a bit._

 _You carry a heavy burden, Kid. You've got a lot of weight on those skinny shoulders of yours, and you need to learn to let others help you with that burden. No one can order you to, no one can force you too, but I am reasonably certain that if you asked, those girls would be more than happy to sit and let you rant or vent or just talk about anything and everything._

 _Don't let the isolation you've spent your life with so far define you._

 _If you are still willing, let Professor McGonagall know and I will be there Friday evening for our next session. If you'd rather be shot of me for my mistake, that's fine too. You will still have to attend a session on Friday but there will be a new healer there instead of me, should you wish it. I will do my very best to find someone that won't make the same mistakes I did._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Healer Richard Gant_

Harry stared at the note, not entirely certain how to feel about it. He wasn't positive about his assertions regarding the girls, but he'd give them the chance to tell him, one way or the other, they'd more than earned that. The rest of the note was pretty straightforward.

He glanced up at their Professor and gave her a weak smile. "Please, if you could tell Healer Gant thank you, for me, and that I'll see him on Friday? I would appreciate that."

"Of course, Mister Potter," she murmured and inclined her head slightly in a nod.

The girls emotions flooded access the link to him, calming and comforting and he folded the note and tucked it away in his robes as he leaned back in his seat.

"Was that all that we needed to discus?" he asked.

"No, there are two more items I wished to mention tonight." She st up and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk with her hands clasped together in front of her. "There is the matter of Quidditch to discuss."

Harry winced, despite knowing the topic needed to come up at some point. "I am very sorry about that, Professor," he muttered, shamefully. "I'll be apologizing to the team as soon as I can find all of them."

She nodded at that. "All well and good, Mister Potter. As much as I would honestly like to punish you for some of your actions, since you admitted yourself that they were taken out of anger, nothing you did during the game was technically against the rules of play. It was just very unsportsmanlike of you to behave in the manner you did. Again, extenuating circumstances must be taken into account, so you'll be allowed to continue to play but not if such behavior becomes common place. It might be legal play in professional matches, but it isn't necessary at the school level.

"That being said I did have a question for you."

Here Harry and the girls all looked up, somewhat confused.

"Yes?"

Professor McGonagall actually looked a touch embarrassed for a moment before she quickly spit out the question that she had, "Mister Potter, do you actually _want_ to play Quidditch?"

Harry blinked, completely taken off guard by the strange question. "I.. Uh… what?" he finally asked after stuttering for a moment.

"It occurred to me, Mister Potter," she said, "that when we first broached the topic of you playing Quidditch I never once asked if you actually _wanted_ to play the game. I admit, that I was overwhelmed, finding such a talented flyer and that I 'ran with it' as some young people have a tendency to say. It never occurred to me, that, with everything else that you have on your plate, perhaps the time and effort that you put into playing might better be directed elsewhere?"

"No, Professor," Harry practically blurted out. "I love playing, really. Well, I love flying, but playing gives me an excuse to fly, and it's fun. I don't mind, really. We're all doing well in our classes and yes, I've got a bit more going on right now… but I can handle it, I promise." He was really trying not to plead with his head of house but it was a near thing. In the end the Professor considered him for a few moments with her usual stern expression back in place before nodding once, sharply.

"Very well, Mister Potter. I will expect to see no decline in your studies and no further action like we saw on Saturday."

"Absolutely not," he said, nodding rapidly. "I promise Professor, I'll never play like that again."

She eyed him speculatively for a moment with a small smirk on her face. "Well… never say never, Mister Potter," she muttered so quietly they almost didn't hear her. "Now, there was one other thing I wished to discuss with you, more accurately, to ask you. Has anyone ever really spoken with you about your parents?" Her tone had changed by the end, speaking with a note of compassion they hadn't yet heard from the stern, matronly professor.

Harry heard the breath hitching in more than one of the girls throats, but wasn't certain who as his attention was firmly fixed on the Professor. He slowly shook his head. "No. No one has said much of anything to me except for a few bits and pieces that Hagrid mentioned when he took me to get my school supplies," he said, slowly.

"Well, I was their professor when they were here," she pointed out. "As were Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout. If you'd like, I could, perhaps, share a few stories about them with you?" she offered.

#####

The day after their conversation with Professor McGonagall Harry spent floating on cloud nine. She'd shared several amusing stories about his parents and the chaos and mayhem that they'd gotten up to during their time at Hogwarts, particular his father and his group of pranksters, the Marauders, they'd called themselves.

Harry could easily see the Weasley twins vying for the old pranksters position as the biggest trouble makers in Hogwarts history, and briefly considered discussing it with them, but he was swept away in his usual day's routine and quickly forgot about the troublesome duo. That morning, the girls had joined him again in his spell practice and he set them to learning the disarming charm and the stunning spell, both part of the third year curriculum, but he was positive they would be able to handle it.

Susan had picked up the stunner first, but Hermione had shown a surprising skill with the expeliarmus. Even her aim was considerable better than the other girls and she beamed with pride when Harry congratulated her on her achievement. After practicing for nearly two hours they returned to the tower, showered, and dressed for class before heading down to the Great Hall with their book bags on their shoulders, easy conversation flowing between them as they discussed the merits of different spells and Hermione even produced a list of spells she'd researched that she thought might be worth learning.

Perusing the list, Harry found that he'd already learned a handful of the twenty some odd spells and told them he would start teaching those the next day, if they wanted, while he worked on the other spells to see if he could figure them out. In this way, their day continued. Breakfast, chatting comfortably with Hannah, Tracey, and Neville. Classes after then study before lunch. More classes after lunch and then more study before dinner.

It wasn't until they were leaving the Great Hall that a sense of foreboding finally settled over Harry and he bid the girls goodbye as they turned for the tower while he in turn made his way into the dungeons, trudging his way toward the potions classroom.

"Potter," Snape said in a smooth, silky tone that practically dripped with menace when he pushed open the door after knocking and hearing the Professor call for him to enter. "So, the great Harry Potter finally get's the punishment he's due. Flaunting the rules, throwing your weight around this school, just as arrogant and foolish as that boor of a father of yours," he sneered and Harry scowled but fought back the instinctive desire to snap at the odious man.

Harry knew better, and was starting to think that Professor McGonagall might have had an ulterior motive for telling him the stories about his parents. Knowing that he would be forced to serve his detentions with Snape, did she give him that knowledge of his parents as a buffer against the Potions masters constant attacks?

"What is it you need me to do for my detention… Sir?" he asked with a pregnant pause before the word 'sir'. He tried to keep his tone as even as possible, but wasn't entirely positive that he managed it.

"Those cauldrons, Potter," the man snapped after a moment, his dark eyes leveled on Harry as he pointed to a stack of some thirty cauldrons on a table near the back wall. "You'll be cleaning them out, by hand. No need for protective gloves either, you'll find the cleaning supplies in the cabinet beneath the counter. You are finished for the night when the last one is spotless."

Without a word, Harry set down his bags and set about the task he'd been assigned. _It's just like at the Dursley's,_ he told himself. _Just get the work done, and ignore the jack ass in the corner. If you could learn to ignore Vernon, you can ignore this dick weasel._

While he cleaned, Snape sat at his desk grading a stack of essays. Time ticked away, and before long Harry had only a half a dozen of the cauldrons left to clean. That was when Snape reached the end of his essays and decided to begin berating the student in his charge again.

"I would have seen you expelled for what you did, Potter," he said, speaking up so suddenly after the long silence that had before been broken only by the scratching of his quill or the sound of Harry scrubbing out the cauldrons. They looked like they'd been used more than a decade before and had been left to simply sit in a dusty cupboard since. Not only the insides needed to be cleaned of potion residue, but the outsides needed to be scrubbed, and more than one had needed a polish and scouring to remove old stains. Harry was grateful that pewter didn't rust or tarnish like other metals would. It made it a much simpler, if still daunting, task.

"Attacking a teacher," he continued even though Harry had made no indication that he'd heard the man speak. "Anyone else would have been gone from this school, not pampered and coddled like you have. You have let your celebrity status swell your head, boy, and I for one have no intention of letting that go without addressing."

Harry didn't say anything and simply moved onto another cauldron, scrubbing quickly as his arms and hands burned from the exertion and the chemical cleaners he was using. While he worked he let himself get lost in the repetitive motions. Scrubbing, turning the cauldron and scrubbing some more, all the while Snape continued to sling verbal jabs at him that he was oblivious to in his tunnel vision focus on his work.

Before Harry realized it, he'd finished the last cauldron and set it aside before he turned to face the professor who was watching him intently, his dark eyes glittering with something Harry was unable to identify.

"Professor?" he called, quietly. "I'm finished."

Snape stalked his way over, robes billowing about him impressively even in such a short distance and peered carefully into each of the neatly arranged cauldrons until he finally gave a short not along with a grunt of what might have been satisfaction.

"Adequate," he snapped, finally. "Get out, Potter, and don't forget to return tomorrow night, I will have something else ready for you to do at that time."

"Yes, Professor," Harry bit out. He was tired, and as much as he'd tried to ignore all of the insults and verbal punishment dished out by the bitter Potions Master, he hadn't come away entirely unaffected.

Grabbing his bag he wearily slung it over his shoulder and left the room, making his way up to Gryffindor Tower. On the way he stopped in his practice room and drew his wand.

A second later power erupted from him and his eyes blazed with magic and fury as his wand snapped up. "Reducto!" he snarled and watched as the crimson spell erupted from the end of his wand and smashed into the far wall with a thunderous crack. Dust filled the air and a bone deep weariness seeped into him as he turned and walked away.

#####

Harry woke on Tuesday morning with a quiet groan and a deep desire to bury himself back under his blankets and simply go back to sleep. Unfortunately years of training had made sure that he would be awake at five in the morning, and no amount of wishing would let him go back to sleep. He was awake, and awake he would stay until it was time for bed.

Maybe he could get in a nap sometime during the day? The thought perked him up a bit, but he didn't hold out hope. They'd gotten plenty of homework assigned in their classes the day before and he hadn't had a chance to do much of it. When he'd arrived back at the tower the night before, minutes before curfew, he had been so exhausted that he'd done little more than wish the girls a good night before dragging himself up to his dorm where he collapsed into bed, asleep almost before his head hit the pillow. He was even still wearing his uniform and robes from the day before.

Climbing out of bed with another groan, he dressed in his workout clothes of a simple pair of sweats and a long sleeved t-shirt before he pulled on his trainers and tied them securely.

The girls were waiting in their customary seats downstairs and he wordlessly waved for them to follow behind him as he made his way to the portrait hole. The trek to the classroom was made in silence and Harry pulled open the door, holding it for the girls who entered before him and came to such and abrupt stop that he walked right into Hermione without realizing it when he tried to follow them into the room.

"What's going on?" he asked as he steadied Hermione with his hands on her shoulders so she wouldn't fall and he stepped around them to take in what the three of them had been staring at in wide eyed shock.

The back wall had collapsed, leaving a gaping hole at least six feet wide and five high that let them see clearly into the next room. The desks in a wide circle of the next space were shattered and scattered as well as several chunks of the wall that had burst through and shattered the teachers desk into so much kindling.

"Woah," Harry muttered, staring at the destruction.

"That's one word to use," Daphne agreed, nodding distractedly as she took in the destruction.

A loud crack sounded in the room and they all jumped and spun to face a house elf wearing a Hogwarts tea cozy as a toga. The little creature had a stern expression on its face, one made almost comical by its large, bulging eyes, but there was no mistaking the anger rolling off of it in nearly palpable waves.

"You!" it squeaked in barely contained outrage. "You is breaking the castle! You is not doing spellses in classrooms like this. No more!"

Harry flinched at the anger and made to apologize but was cut off by the little creature.

"NO! No spellses in the classrooms. Tuly is getting in trouble fors not beings able to clean up your mess. Come. Tuly show you room to practice spellses in so you cans't be breaking things anymore."

Tuly gestured to them to follow it, him? Harry wasn't sure but he thought Tuly might be male. "Come, follow Tuly. No more breaking castle."

Exchanging a look they shrugged and followed the elf out of the room and down the hall. A handful of turns later they came to a stretch of hallway, completely empty save for a tapestry on one side of a wizard and several trolls. The wizard appeared to be attempting to teach the trolls how to dance. Harry stared at the painting for a while, his mouth hanging open before a sharp jab in his side caught his attention and he turned back to the angry little elf.

"Here," he said, pointing at the blank stretch of wall directly across from the painting. "You use Come and Go room to practice yours spellses in. No more breaking things for Tuly to fix!"

"I'm really sorry I got you in trouble, Tuly," Harry said, kneeling down so he was at eye level with the little creature as the girls looked around the hall, he figured attempting to locate the room Tuly was talking about. "I really didn't intend for that, I was just trying to practice. But, what's this room you're talking about? There's nothing but bare wall here."

Tuly gave him a long look before nodding in acceptance of his apology and turned to gesture at the wall. "Come and Go room is ancient room, very powerful magicses created by the Missy Claw," Tuly explained. "It comes and it goes, so we elveses call it Come and Go Room. Tuly thinks it has also been called Room of Requirement. Young Master must walk three times back and forth in front of wall thinking very hards about whats you wants and room will appear."

All four of them blinked in surprise at the explanation, but before anyone could ask a question Tuly vanished with a loud crack, leaving them standing in an empty hallway.

Harry shrugged and stepped over to the stretch of wall directly across from the painting and ran his hand over the rough stones for a moment before he closed his eyes and started walking back and forth in front of the wall, all the while thinking, _I need a place where the girls and I can practice dangerous spells,_ over and over.

Feeling completely foolish and not a bit self conscious Harry started when he heard a sharp gasp behind him and spun, his eyes flying open to see Hermione, Daphne, and Susan staring at the no longer blank wall, Hermione with her arm extended, pointing at the door that had appeared.

Cautiously Harry grasped the handle and turned it, pulling the door open and peered inside.

"Woah!" he exclaimed and rushed the rest of the way into the room, leaving the girls to scramble after him. The room beyond the door was huge with a target range on one side complete with target dummies, a dueling platform in the center and a sitting area on the opposite side with shelves filled with books, enough seating to easily accommodate the four of them and several tables for study.

"This is amazing," Hermione blurted out, spinning slowly in place as she looked around the room.

Daphne and Susan both jumped, cursing loudly as Hermione turned to face the loud bang that suddenly sounded on the far end of the room. Harry stood at the line marking off the target range and they turned just in time to see the remains of one of the target dummies clattering to the ground as a result of whatever spell he'd thrown at it. As they watched the shattered pieces vanished and another dummy suddenly appeared in it's place.

"This place is _awesome!_ " Harry shouted and ran over, gathering each one of them into an exuberant hug leaving them shocked at his sudden display.

"Well you're excited," Daphne said, a small smirk on her lips as they watched Harry scurry away, all traces of the exhaustion he'd shown before vanishing in his excitement.

"Aren't you?" he shot back as he started running a finger down the spines of the books in the sitting area. "Look! Some of these books are in the restricted area!" He snatched one of the books and flipped it open, his eyes skimming the pages rapidly as Hermione scurried over to join him. In moments the two bookworms were lost in conversation as they discussed whatever spell Harry had found in his new book and Daphne and Susan exchanged a look of fond exasperation at their bonded's actions.

"Should we go practice some of those spells we were working on last time?" Daphne asked, gesturing to the target dummies and Susan giggle, casting another glance in Hermione's and Harry's direction.

"Sure. I think we've lost them for a little while."

"Well, if thy haven't come up for air before we're ready to leave for breakfast all we have to do is hit them with a couple of stinging hexes, right?" The grin Daphne wore was a touch evil and sent Susan off laughing uproariously as the two of them made their way to the firing line and drew their wands.

"First one to ten bulls eyes wins?" Daphne offered.

"Wins what?" Susan asked as she dropped into her stance and held her wand up in front of her.

Daphne shrugged. "We'll figure it out later?"

"Sounds good to me. Go!"

#####

"It does what?" Neville asked on Thursday evening as he sat with Harry's girls in front of the fire while the man himself was in his detention with Snape. He wasn't sure exactly when he'd started to think of them that way, but in neville Longbottoms mind the four friends were nearly indistinguishable from each other. Harry belonged to them, they belonged to each other and to Harry. It gave the young scion a headache, to be honest, so he tried not to think too often or too long about the intricate web of connections that existed between them and simply focused on enjoying the company of his friends.

"It'll create anything you need, within reason," Hermione gushed, her eyes bright and her face flushed as she went on about the magnificent room that they'd been shown the morning before. "We asked it to create a replica of the common room and it did it, no problem. It even copied the Great Hall!"

"Hermione," Daphne said in a low, almost warning tone. "Calm down a bit, you're starting to draw attention."

Hermione clapped her hands over her mouth but it did nothing to calm her as her eyes still gleamed brightly and she started bouncing in her seat she was so excited.

With a fond sigh Daphne laid her arm across Hermione's shoulders, both hoping to calm her and to try and hold the bouncing girl down in her seat before she bounced away.

"It really is a fantastic place," Susan said in a much calmer tone. Hermione is just a little excited since it can apparently even provide books that are normally kept in the restricted section of the Library." She shrugged at the shocked look on Neville's face. "You can't take anything out of the room like that, any of the books will vanish as soon as they cross the doorway. But while in the room they're complete and accurate as far as we can tell."

"And you guys used it to create a dueling chamber?"

"Harry did. Tuly was really annoyed at him for destroying the wall in the classroom we'd been using to practice in." Neville turn to face Daphne when she offered her two sickles into the conversation. "It really is amazing. Are you sure that you won't come practice with us Neville?" she asked for probably the fifth time since they'd started training with Harry.

"I would love to," he admitted with a forlorn look on his face. "Right now though, until I get a new wand I don't think I should be trying to learn anything more advanced than I already have. Who knows what could happen if a spell goes wrong with this old wand?"

They took that in stride and continued to chat for a while before starting in on their homework. Hermione fretted over her study schedule and frequently badgered her friends to adopt it.

"Exams are ten weeks away!" she pointed out when Neville expressed his confusion over the rush. "That's barely a blink to someone like Nicholas Flamel. Before you know it it'll be time for them and we're not going to be ready at this rate."

"Hermione, you seriously need to calm down," Daphne snapped irritably. This had been going on for days and the blonds patience had finally run out. "We're all at the top of our year in all our classes. We just switch around who is the top between the five of us at this point. Even Neville, no offense Nev, but with that wand it's a miracle, is in the top of the year in Herbology."

Hermione tried to protest but Daphne wouldn't hear of it. "Seriously, it's a good thing that you're so focused on your studies but you need to-"

For several moments Neville continued reading through his Defense essay until the sudden silence caught his attention and he looked up to find all three girls had turned in their seats on the sofa to stare at the entrance to the common room. He blinked, confused for a second, before he realized what must have happened.

"Is Harry all right?" he hissed, trying not to draw any more attention to them than their strange behavior had already managed.

Susan nodded absently. "Yeah, he doesn't feel like he's hurt or upset, really. More like… confused?"

"He's been holding back anger for the last half an hour," Daphne said, her eyes never moving from the entrance. "But it suddenly shifted. He's not angry anymore. Startled, and yeah, confused, it's hard to say, really."

They all fell silent and Neville stood up and dragged another chair nearby, leaving Harry's usual seat open. Twenty minutes later the three girls spun from their work again, this time with a noticeable tension in their bodies that hadn't been there the previous time. They completely ignored Neville's questions and, eventually, he settled in to wait, their homework forgotten as the girls watched the entrance to the common room and Neville watched them, his eyes flitting from one to another as he wracked his brain over what might have happened.

He consoled himself with the idea that, even though Harry was at detention with Snape, if there was anything _wrong_ the girls would have been acting by now, instead of just sitting there waiting. Something had their attention, but it couldn't be anything truly bad if they hadn't run off in search of Harry.

Minutes later the portrait swung open and Harry hurried through, his eyes skimming rapidly around the room until they landed on Neville and his girls and he strode over at a speed just barely below a run, collapsing into his chair with a gusty sigh.

"What happened?" Hermione demanded, staring intently at Harry. "You were angry, not awful, but still mad. Then you were confused and startled and what was that last? You weren't afraid but… I can't put my finger on it."

"This has been the strangest evening of my life, I swear," Harry muttered and straightened up in the chair as he began his tale.

#####

"I'm done, Professor," Harry said, looking up from where he'd been sorting various prions ingredients by hand. Some of them were so disgusting he really didn't want to remember what exactly they'd been, he'd just moved them into the various containers intended to hold them as he'd been instructed.

Once again, Snape had spent the majority of the time grading essays, then he'd started in with the insults and Harry had continued to ignore the man as best he could.

"Potter," Snape drawled. "Describe for me the procedure required in mixing a shrinking solution."

Harry blinked but thought quickly and started reciting the procedure. It was one of the first potions they'd created in the first term and it really was relatively simple, the biggest difficulty was in tracking the number of times one stirred the mixture as well as which direction it needed to be stirred in.

When he finished that glittering was back in the Professors gaze that Harry had noticed during his previous two detentions. He still didn't know what it meant at it was really starting to freak him out.

"Explain to me why porcupine quills must be added to most potions after being removed from heat."

Harry did.

"Why is a calming draught considered a third year potion and not on the first year curriculum even though it has all the same ingredients, save one, to a confusion unction?"

Harry cocked his head to the side as he considered that one. "Well, the confusion unction is a simple potion, twelve ingredients that need to be prepared and mixed in order at specific temperatures and specific times, as with most potions. The difference is that the final two ingredients in the calming draught are explosive if mixed at the wrong time or allowed to interact with each other without an appropriate neutralizing agent. Considering most first year students are still learning to make efficient use of their time I would imagine that they'd be more likely to realize they're running low on time and just start throwing everything in all at once, just to try to get everything in the cauldron."

Harry considered that for a moment before he paled and shuddered. "I can imagine twenty plus cauldrons exploding all at once would be a bit much for any single professor to try and diffuse."

Snape continued to eye him for a moment before he nodded, grudgingly.

"Perhaps," he said, a look on his face that indicated he might actually be in physical pain, "there is more of your mother in you than I had originally thought."

Harry's mouth dropped open but before he could say anything Professor Snape stood and swept away toward his office. "That will be all for tonight, Potter," he snapped. "You will return here on Saturday evening immediately after dinner."

The door was opened and slammed shut behind him with a booming finality before Harry'd had time to do more than open his mouth to reply.

"Yes, Professor," he said, staring at the closed door before he washed his hands and started back toward Gryffindor Tower. Harry had just reached the entrance hall when he stopped and groaned quietly to himself. His bag was still down in the potions classroom.

He grumbled irritably and made his way back down to the classroom and grabbed his bag from where he'd left it on the desk he usually sat at with Hermione. As he slung it over his shoulder muffled voices reached his ears and he looked around, trying to find the source when his eyes fell on the door to Snapes office. The door that was standing open a few inches when he distinctly remembered it being shut, quite firmly when he'd left minutes previously.

He hesitated, curiosity warring with self preservation… if he was caught…

He grinned and reached into his bag, pulling out the silvery invisibility cloak that had been sent to him at Christmas. Harry had taken to carrying it with him wherever he went since he didn't like the idea of entrusting the safety of the only physical connection he had to his father being the lock on his school trunk.

Throwing the cloak around his shoulders, he pulled up the hood, and Harry Potter vanished. As quietly as possible he crept over to the door and peered through the small gap into the office beyond.

Inside, behind a large desk with a scarred and pitted surface, stood Snape, but he wasn't alone. Quirrell was there, too. Harry couldn't make out the look on his face as the Defense Professor had his back to the door where Harry stood, but he was stuttering worse than ever. Harry strained to catch what they were saying.

". . . d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus . . ."

"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," said Snape, his voice icy. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Sorcerer's Stone, after all."

Harry leaned forward. Quirrell was mumbling something but Snape interrupted him.

"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?"

"B-b-but Severus, I —"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," said Snape, taking a step toward him around the desk.

"I-I don't know what you —"

"You know perfectly well what I mean." Somewhere outside the class a door slammed and Harry jumped, spinning away for a moment before realizing no one was there and he returned his attention to the conversation happening inside the office.

He steadied himself in time to hear Snape say, "— your little bit of hocus-pocus. I'm waiting."

"B-but I d-d-don't —"

"Very well," Snape cut in. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie."

#####

Neville, Daphne, Hermione, and Susan all stared at Harry, mouths hanging open in surprise after the story he'd just described to them.

"Wait…" Neville started, slowly. "So you're saying that Snape, actually _complimented_ you?"

"Neville!" Hermione blurted out.

"What? We all know he's a scary bastard but he actually gave Harry a compliment! I think _that's_ more surprising than him threatening Quirrell!"

"Well…" Hermione trailed off, blinking owlishly for a moment and Harry almost burst out giggling at the mental image that produced but managed to contain himself. "Well, yes, okay I'll admit it is surprising that he was… somewhat civil to Harry. But that aside, it looks like the stone is only safe as long as Quirrell holds out against Snape!"

Susan looked grim and Daphne nodded, her icy cold mask firmly in place again. "If the only thing preventing Snape from taking the stone is Quirrell," she said in a low tone, "then it'll be gone by next Tuesday."

The five of them lapsed into silence, staring at each other for several minutes while none of them could think of anything else to say when they were suddenly distracted by the portray swinging open and a loud clamor as Ron, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnegan climbed into the room. One of Ron's hands was wrapped in bandages and he was complaining, loudly.

"… Ruddy thing _bit_ me," he snapped and Dean sighed, a long, drawn out affair, as used by one who'd already heard this complaint before. Several times.

"We know, Ron, that's the tenth bloody time you've said it in the last half hour! We know Norbert bit you so just quit complaining and get upstairs. You've got a letter to write to Charlie…"

Their voices faded away as the three of them clambered there way up the stairs to the dorm, Ron still loudly complaining the whole way.

The five friends by the fireplace exchanged a confused look.

"What's a Norbert?" Neville finally asked.

Harry groaned and shrugged as he slumped down in his seat. "Not my circus, not my monkeys," he grumbled.

The purebloods in the group gave Harry a confused look and Hermione piped up, after a quick glance between the three of them. "It's an old Polish proverb," she explained. "It basically means 'it's not my problem'."

Neville snorted a short laugh. "Wouldn't it have been easier just to say that?"

Harry shrugged, the action making him slip further down in his seat and ignored the disapproving glare Daphne was giving him. She'd been working on him for the last month about his posture and the general outward appearance that he projected. As the last member of a Most Ancient and Noble House, as well as the current Head of that house, she'd been trying to help him with learning what would be expected of him by the general population of the wizarding world when it came out that he was officially a titled Lord.

She caught his eye and quirked a brow at him but he was too tired and in no mood so he simply stuck his tongue out at her, causing her expression to twist into something somewhere in between disapproving and amused.

He sighed and sat forward, reaching down for his bag. "I'm exhausted," he said. "I'm gonna head up to bed."

Within minutes they'd all made their way up to their beds, saying their goodnights in the space between the stairs before heading up to their respective dorms. Harry changed quickly and practically fell into his bed. He pulled the drapes around his bed and barely managed to cast a silencing charm to blot out his noisy dorm mantes before consciousness fled and he drifted off into an exhausted sleep.

#####

"How've things been since last week?"

Harry shrugged. He idly played with the handle of his teacup where it sat on the smooth surface of Professor McGonagalls desk. When he'd arrived for his weekly session with Healer Gant the Professor had been nowhere to be seen, deciding that the two knew what they were about and there wouldn't be a repeat of any of the previous mistakes that had been made.

Richard Gant considered the young man sitting in front of him. He didn't sense any of the sullen anger that had been present before. None of the closed off shame or reluctance. He just didn't really seem like he knew what to say or how. He seemed confused, more than anything else.

"Have things been better between you and the girls? I know there was a bit of tension there last Saturday.

Harry nodded.

"Any problems with other students?" Gant asked after several moments of uneasy silence.

Harry shook his head.

Gant leaned back in his chair and heaved out an explosive sigh. "So… should I just see about getting a bed ready for you at St. Mungo's then?" he asked and Harry's head snapped up, eyes locking onto him with a sharp intensity. He shrugged. "Look, I know you don't want to be here and I know this entire situation sucks, but you need to _talk_ to me, Harry. You've got to give me something that I can tell to the board so they can be appeased and stop trying to interfere with you. Lucius Malfoy is practically drooling over the idea of getting you drummed out of this school."

Harry ducked his head and fidgeted slightly.

"I don't really know what to say," he admitted. "I mean, we already went over the Dursley's house. What more am I supposed to be talking about?"

"Anything," Gant prodded. "Everything. Nothing. Ramble about your classes, your friends, your hobbies, likes, dislikes, anything. Just you've got to show me that you're adjusting, that you're getting better."

A thought popped into Harry's head and his head came up again from his hunched posture, his eyes becoming thoughtful. "Well…" he trailed off for a moment. "Well, there is one thing that came to mind recently…"

Richard arched a brow and gestured for Harry to continue.

Harry spun the cup a few more times. "It's just, you know that I've been studying ahead in Defense?" he asked and Gant nodded. "Well, I started teaching the girls some of the spells I've been studying. We were using an empty classroom to practice in and the night after my first detention with Snape I stopped in there on my way back to the tower."

"And?" Gant asked, his eyes studying Harry's face carefully.

Harry winced. "Umm… well I shot off a Reducto at the wall. It just seemed like a good… I don't know, a release maybe?"

Gant nodded with a quiet chuckle. "Yeah, sometimes there's nothing better than blowing something up to let off some steam."

"Yeah, well when we went in the next morning to practice there was a six foot wide hole in the wall." Gant started, jerking sharply in surprise and Harry shrugged. "Yeah. I keep hearing from people that I'm really powerful, and I guess I'm just worried."

"About what? I would think you'd be pleased to be so strong. Most young boy's like to think they're very powerful wizards whether they actually are or not."

"Yeah except they don't have my problems. I get upset and I lose control of my magic and you've already told me I could be dangerous."

"So what are you asking? All you can really do about that is learn some better control. Learn to let go of some of the anger. Learn to find a healthier outlet."

Harry spun his cup a few more times before he dropped his hands to his lap, sighing in frustration. "I don't know," he blurted out. "I don't know what I'm looking for here."

He slumped down in his seat. A part of him still chafed at these meetings, it was only the third one, so he guessed that might last for a while. But aside from his normal reluctance to face his issues, there was still the concern of Snape, Quirrell, the stone, exams coming up… it was all becoming extremely stressful. And he couldn't even discuss the stone and their concerns about that with Gant… could he?

He shook his head, ridding himself of such a thought as quickly as he could. No, that wouldn't be a good idea. In his experience, the adults rarely believed him when he had something important to tell them.

"Would it help if I explained how power works as far as magic is concerned?"

He looked up, surprised at the statement from the healer sitting across from him.

"Huh?"

Gant leaned forward. "Right now, power, magical power, is a nebulous concept to you. It's not defined in concrete terms, but rather in abstracts. So it seems to me that, maybe, if I explained how we measure magical power, and where you fall on that scale, maybe it'll help ease your mind a little bit. You'll have a more clearly defined understanding of what you're dealing with, and I've found that when things are explained to me, they suddenly become a little less terrifying."

Harry considered that for a moment before shrugging again. "I guess. Couldn't hurt, at least."

"Alright, let me think for a moment how best to explain…" Gant trailed off and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on the top of his upturned right fist, staring blankly ahead while he organized his thoughts.

After several minutes he suddenly spoke without shifting his position in the slightest, startling Harry with the suddenness of it. "Have you ever heard of the Fujita-Pearson Scale? Or the Fujita Scale?" Gant asked and Harry frowned, cocking his head to the right a little as he thought.

"I think so… isn't that the scale they use to measure the size of tornadoes?"

Gant nodded. "Exactly. The Fujita scale measures tornadoes and assigns them an intensity rating, based primarily on the damage the tornadoes inflict on human-built structures and vegetation."

Harry frowned again.

"The more they destroy, the more powerful they are."

He nodded.

"Now, for tornadoes, the scale goes from F-0 up to F-5. The creator of the scale did give a description of an F-6, but it hasn't been seen in real world examples so for practical purposes, the scale stops at an F-5. With me so far?"

Harry nodded.

"What might surprise you, is that Testuya Fujita, the primary mind behind the scale, was a wizard and that he applied the same principle of considering multiple factors to create a scale that could, roughly, measure a which or wizards magical power on a scale ranging from zero up to fifteen."

"This measures the magical core I've heard described?" Harry asked, curious now in spite of himself.

Gant winced. "Merlin's beard I hate that description. I've used it myself but it still annoys me to no end."

Now Harry was even more intrigued. "How so?"

Gant grumbled and sat up, leaning back in his seat as he started to gesture with his hands. "It's the whole pureblood crap that's caused no end of trouble in wizarding society. I'm sure you've run into it already. But basically, purebloods can't get around the idea that they don't actually have any magic themselves, so when talking about a persons magical power they insist on describing it as a core, something that the witch or wizard contains within their bodies at all times. Like it's _their_ power."

"Isn't it?"

Gant snorted. "Not even remotely. The very idea that a person could hold inside their physical form the amount of magic needed to do even the simplest spell is ridiculous. Magic is energy, energy doesn't just sit idle. It has to do. It has to change, and shift, and move, and adapt. If you actually held power inside yourself like that it'd be causing all kinds of stupid random effects all the time. Magic can't just exist like that."

"So we're not magical?"

"No. Not in the strict understanding of the word." He paused for a moment, considering Harry before pushing forward. "This is a fine distinction, Harry, but what I feel that it basically amounts to is this. Witches and wizards don't _have_ magic. We can _access_ magic. Pureblood's won't entertain the idea that they don't actually have magic of their own, so you'll never see this definition anywhere else. The pureblood faction in our society even denounces the Fujita Scale since it is based on the concept that wizards and witches don't actually have magic themselves but merely access it from somewhere else. I like to imagine a persons magical ability in a different way. Instead of thinking of it like a ball at the center of our being, I think of it like a well.

"The Universe is magic, and witches and wizards can tap into that energy. How much you can draw, how fast, and how quickly you replenish that amount is different for each individual. Like a well, you pull magic from a reservoir that is separate from you, and like a well, you can pull more than there is to draw on and have to wait for that quantity to replenish itself. The younger a person is, generally the less magic they can channel through their bodies without causing themselves damage, sometimes irreparably. It's only when we reach adulthood and our bodies have matured as well as the magical pathways through which that energy travels through us can we really utilize our full potential."

"Okay, that makes sense, I guess."

"Right. So, here's where we get back to Fujita. He designed a scale that calculated a persons magical ability based on how much magic they can draw at a given time, how fast they can draw that magic, and how quickly they recover their reserves. A muggle would be an F-0 on this scale. Your average first year student would be somewhere in the F-5 to F-7 range. And your average adult ranks somewhere around an F-9 or F-10."

Harry nodded. "While this is all fascinating, really, I don't really get what it has to do with me. Knowing how I'm going to lose control and destroy everyone around me one day isn't going to help me."

"Just bear with me. So, when I examined you over the Christmas Hols, I did an F-Scale diagnostic charm, the estimate where your power is at. Honestly, it doesn't work too well doing it that way. You kind of have to be actively casting magic to get a truly accurate reading and you were unconscious at the time. But, based on the rate that your access to magic was replenishing itself, I would easily estimate that you are right now, on par with some fully grown wizards. Probably you'd rate at an F-8 or F-9. But that's just in raw power. Skill and knowledge is something else.

"Basically, Harry, if you can learn to control your temper and your other emotional states better, you'll have better control over your magic. If you get a better control of your magic you won't have to keep up with these sessions"

"I've been worried," Harry admitted, quietly. "Especially after last week. I just get angry so easily, lately," Harry muttered morosely "I never got angry so much at the Dursleys, I don't get why I can't hold my temper like I could back then."

"Well that's simple."

Harry gave Gant a quizzical look and the healer returned a broad smile. "You're free."

"Huh?"

"The environment that you lived in at your relative's home was toxic, Kid. Aside from the physical damage they did to you, they taught you to shove down your feelings and ignore them. You learned to push away your anger and you hope and any other emotion that might have caused you to react in a way that could have sparked off the anger and hostility from your relatives. You shoved everything down and tried to forget it, but now, those girls of yours are drawing out those emotions and you're free, finally, to actually feel them. You're feeling things you haven't really paid much attention to in years and you just don't know how to handle it, yet."

Harry frowned, considering that.

"Understanding your strength is important, Kid. You have access to a lot of magic and you've got some issues, no way of sugar coating that, that means your control is lacking. That lack of control is why we're here, why some people are trying to make you out to be dangerous. You understand a little better now. Do you think you can take my exercise to help you with your control seriously? I would have mentioned sooner, but honestly I expected you to take a little longer to come around to the idea that you needed better control."

"Why?" Harry asked, confused. "You said I could end up hurting Daphne, Hermione, or Susan the way I've been going. That's the last thing I want to have happen so why wouldn't I want to control myself?"

Gant shrugged. "You were pissed about the idea of having these sessions. I get why and I don't blame you in the slightest, I just figured it'd take you a little longer to move past the being upset about it and into the 'what do I do about it?' stage, ya know?"

Harry shrugged at that, not really sure what to say.

"All that aside, I'm thrilled that you've come around so quickly. So we've got a few things to look at. Number one, you need to lean on those girls, as much as it goes against every instinct you have. Let them help you, Kid. Let yourself feel what they're feeling. It'll only help you to deal with your own emotions in the long run."

Harry nodded, somewhat reluctantly.

"Second thing that I wanted to mention was Occlumency."

Harry perked up at that. "I've heard that mentioned before. Susan was going to have her Aunt send us all some books to look over so we could all start practicing it."

"I know, Amelia mentioned to me that she'd sent them to Susan. So I'm giving you some homework to do before next week. Read the first three chapters in 'The Occluded Mind' and practice the exercises every night before bed between now and the next time we see each other, okay? Our sessions will continue to include talking on whatever topic you want, but it'll also start including Occlumency instruction."

"Why the Occlumency? Daphne's friend Tracey thought it might be useful since the girls were having trouble telling each other's emotions apart."

"That's true, it could probably help them keep everyone separate in their own minds so they're not confusing each other's emotions for their own. But one of the things that Occlumency is good for, aside from protecting your mind from mental intrusions, is that it helps you to organize the chaos that is the average human mind. It'll help you bring some order to all those hard memories that you've got buried in there…"

Harry and the healer talked for another hour before they finally ended the session and Harry left the room, still feeling a bit troubled and wrung out, but with a sense of purpose, and a few ideas of things he could actively do to work on improving his overall mental and physical health. He clutched several sheets of parchment in one hand as if they were the most precious things in the world and he was terrified that someone was going to take them away from him. He had a listed schedule of training he was being asked to start. Occlumency training, a daily physical training regimen, and a few other vague ideas that Gant suggested would be food for him to look into, with the help of his bonded.

When he exited McGonagalls office he closed the door behind him and then stopped as a strange sound reached him. His head whipped to the right and his eyes widened as his head slowly turned back to his left, eyes tracking something in a state of bewildered confusion.

Moments later, it happened again.

And a third time.

After another two minutes passed with nothing else happening, he decided it was probably safe to return to the common room. He grinned as he walked, well aware that he was going to have a fairly amusing story to relate to his bonded and their friends at breakfast the next day.

#####

"You have got to be kidding!"

"I'm not! I swear I saw it with my own two eyes!" Harry insisted as Tracey Davis and Hannah Abbot stared at him in open mouthed shock. Neville was slowly turning red, Daphne had a smirk on her face. Susan was laughing outright and Hermione was doing her best to look stern and disapproving even while he could see her face getting red and her lips twitching as she struggled not to laugh or smile.

"I swear. I was leaving Professor McGonagalls office last night, right? So I walk out of the room and close the door behind me and before I can do anything else I hear someone running. So I look to my right and what do I see? One of the Weasley twins. Who the hell knows which one. Anyway, he runs past me and he's got _six_ toilet seats with him, three of them hooked on each arm as he dashes past me like the hounds of hell are after him."

At this point Daphne gave up smirking and started chuckling quietly, Susan started leaning on Harry's left shoulder while Hermione began giggling almost uncontrollably and Neville had crossed his arms on the table in front of him, laying his head down on his arms as his shoulders shook and shuddered violently.

"I'm standing there, trying to figure out if I actually saw what I thought I just saw, when the other twin runs past, also with six toilet seats looped on his arms. So now I'm seriously trying to decide if I'm hallucinating or something and I'm beginning to wonder if maybe Healer Gant put something in my tea…" Harry trailed off for a second, laughing almost uncontrollably before he managed to reign himself in and finish the story.

"Just as I'd decided that my tea _must_ have been spiked, what looked like every single girl in third year and I swear from every single house, came streaming by me like a stampede, screaming bloody murder. I'm pretty positive I heard a few of them screaming something about 'falling in' and that once they caught the red headed menaces they were planning on using their heads as plungers."

With his story finished, Hannah and Tracey joined the other girls in laughing while Daphne leaned against Susan and Hermione leaned on Harry's other shoulder, laughing so hard tears were streaming from their eyes. Poor Neville was completely done in as he sat up, head back and laughing so hard his entire body shook. As he tilted back he failed to grab hold of the edge of the table and rolled off the bench, falling backwards onto the floor of the Great Hall where he laid there for some minutes, laughing and rolling back and forth. His pitch off the bench sent the rest of them into new fits of laughter and just about everyone else in the Hall was beginning to stare at them, wondering if perhaps someone had cursed or hexed their entire group.

For Harry, he honestly couldn't remember ever laughing as he was right then. And he knew, he'd never once shared such a funny moment with any friends. That alone had him feeling happier and more content than he felt a thousand sessions with a mind healer would ever be able to achieve. A quick glance around told him the twins were nowhere in sight and he made a mental note that he needed to find some way to properly thank them.

Right about that moment Neville attempted, while still laughing and gasping for breath, to get back into his seat. He missed, clattering to the floor again and that sent them all off into great peals of laughter once again.


	14. The Stone

**Authors Notes: WHOOT! The Rotten Writer returns ladies and gentlemen.**

 **So, we're up to the really fun parts of this story and there's one chapter, ONE left until we finally finish up Year One. At this point in time this story is already nearly double the length of the actual first book, go figure. And things don't seem to be slowing down. I'm already working on the first few chapters of Year Two, and between the next chapter and starting up year two I MAY take a brief break to work on it and get as much of it together as possible but I'll mention in the next chapter notes what the actual plan is.**

 **This is being posted a bit early sinc Isaid last time it'd be up by the 8** **th** **, but I figure, I've got it together, why not post it up? Next chapter will go up on Tuesday the 15** **th** **.**

 **In other news, this chapter really is second to last for this year. We've got some confrontations, violence and chaos up ahead. Some people I think are going to love this, and others are probably going to want to string me up by my toenails. Please, resist the urge to visit violence upon me, I can't continue if I'm too injured to work!**

 **Oh, there are some quoted sections in here from Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone. Though even with those quoted chunks I went through and shifted some of the wordage and added some stuff of my own.**

 **Disclaimer!: I own not Harry Potter and I honestly probably wouldn't want to. Can you imagine honestly being that famous? *Shudders* Horrifying I'm telling you. Absolutely horrifying. Also any recognizable bits of dialogue or description that are obviously from the books of course belong to Madam Rowlings herself and are not of my own work, I take no credit for those portions whatsoever.**

 **Anywho! Without any more stalling, and with absolutely no further ado… I give you Chapter 13 of Soul Scars.**

Soul Scars

By,

Rtnwriter

The days and weeks crept by and Harry put into practice some of the things that had been recommended on the sheets of parchment given to him by Healer Gant. He spoke to Susan and Hermione who showed him the Occlumency books that Amelia had sent. He read through the chapters, discussed the exercises with Gant each Friday during their sessions and practiced every night before bed. Slowly, he felt as if he was making progress with the mind arts and aside from anything else, he could feel that the meditation exercises were helping him.

He decided not to worry exceptionally at that moment about the suggested physical exercise routines recommended, since he was barely keeping up with his homework, sessions with Gant, Quidditch practice, and what had turned into a weekly meeting with McGonagall where she told stories of their parents, except for Hermione's, of course. Professor McGonagall had been the transfiguration Professor there when Susan's aunt and parents were students, as well as Daphne's and while they enjoyed a pot of tea with their head of house, she would tell them of some of the trouble their family had caused over the years.

There was one suggestion that had been on his lists that Harry had been more than happy to take part in. At least once per week, he was expected to take a break, and to do so with the girls. As Gant told him, it was a good idea for the four of them to spend time together that wasn't related to any of his issues or to school and to just get to know each other or relax and spend time together. Daphne and Susan had also been thrilled by the suggestion since it gave them a ready excuse to force Hermione to drop her insane study schedule at least once per week giving them all a chance to take a break and relax as end of year exams crept ever closer.

Harry had taken to the idea and decided that the best way to relax with the girls was with a picnic. Since snow still clung to portions of the grounds, he found that the Room was able to create a setting nice enough for a picnic. A whispered conversation with the twins got him into the kitchens and the elves were always more than happy to put together a basket for them that practically groaned with the weight of food and drink. During these picnics they'd developed some rules. No talk about school. No talk about Harry's issues. They talked about things they enjoyed. Books they'd all read. Hermione told them about her favorite movies, some of which Susan had even seen, and the two girls promised Daphne and Harry that they'd go to a theater over the summer break and catch a few films.

Harry of course knew what movies were, but hadn't really had a chance to see any with his life at the Dursleys, while Daphne was clueless. The other three tried to explain the concept but eventually they all decided that she would just have to see it and that would explain everything. Sometimes they didn't even talk at all, they just ate in companionable silence and then laid out on the blanket and stared up at the sky, letting a relaxing breeze play across them.

Despite how well things were going, some concerns still weighed heavily on Harry's mind, and Neville and the girls were no less concerned. In years to come, Harry would never quite remember how he managed to get through his exams when he half expected a restored Voldemort to come bursting through the door at any moment as he'd decided who else would need the Stone more? He hasn't discussed the idea with the others, but he was positive that Snape was working with Voldemort.

His nightmares started up with renewed strength when they had begun to trickle down to just a few times a week. By the time exams came around he was back to two or three times a night waking up from the same horrific nightmare. Added to that was the prickling pain in his scar that he'd noted off and on throughout the school year. As the nightmares ramped up in frequency so did the number of times per day that he would randomly winced at clutch at the lightning bolt etched into his forehead.

The girls were getting more and more concerned as they noted the increasing frequency and Neville was worrying that he might just be overly stressed due to the upcoming exams. Harry didn't feel any of them were quite right on their points. He didn't feel like it was a sign of illness, but he didn't think it was stress related either. He couldn't really put his finger on why, though.

#####

As time continued its inexorable forward march, they could only hope that Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door. It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers.

They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell. They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk.

Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox — points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers.

Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion. Harry did the best he could, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his forehead, which had continued to increase as the days and weeks passed.

Maybe it was because they hadn't seen what Harry had seen in his nightmares, his memories, or because they didn't have scars burning on their foreheads, but Neville, Hermione, Daphne, and Susan didn't seem as worried about the Stone as Harry was.

The idea of Snape getting the Stone certainly scared them, but something kept Harry from mentioning Voldemort, or his suspicions, and they were so busy with their studying they didn't have much time to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to.

Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented self-stirring cauldrons and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out.

When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Harry couldn't help cheering with the rest.

"That was easier than I thought it would be," said Hermione as they joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. "I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager."

Hermione wanted to go through their exam papers afterward, but Susan and Daphne insisted that with their final exam out of the way they could take an afternoon to relax. They wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree.

The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows. "No more studying," Susan said with a sigh, stretching out on the grass beneath a large spreading oak tree near the lake shore. "You could look more cheerful, Harry, we've got a week before we find out how badly you've beaten us in Defense and Hermione's beaten us in everything else."

Hermione blushed and swatted at Susan's shoulder as Daphne and Neville chuckled quietly.

Harry was rubbing his forehead and barely heard anything that was being said. "I wish I knew what this means!" he burst out angrily. "My scar keeps hurting."

"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested with a concerned frown. Susan sat up, leaning back on her elbows as the girls studied him carefully. His face was twisted into a pained expression and Daphne felt that he looked a bit more pale than usual. Sweat beaded his face and forehead but despite the heat there was a cool breeze blowing that should have dried it by then.

"I'm not ill," said Harry. "I think it's a warning . . . it means danger's coming. . . ." Neville was thinking furiously. "Do you think your scar reacting is connected to the Stone, somehow?" he asked and Harry shrugged, sighing in frustration.

"I don't know, Nev. I mean, how could it really? The scar is years old and I've never seen or been around the Stone before. I just feel like it's going to be taken any day now. I can't explain it."

"I can understand you being worried, Harry," Susan spoke up. "I mean, I'm not thrilled about the situation myself. But are we really sure Snape is going to steal it? I mean, we've never had any proof that he found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not going to try it again in a hurry, right?"

Harry nodded, but he couldn't shake off a lurking feeling that there was something he'd forgotten to do, something important. When he tried to explain this, Hermione said, "That's just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I remembered we'd done that one."

Harry was quite sure the unsettled feeling didn't have anything to do with work, though. He watched an owl flutter toward the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent him letters. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy . . . never . . . but —

Harry suddenly paled even more and jumped to his feet.

"Where're you going?" said Neville. He and the girls quickly rose and followed after Harry, who had taken off at a brisk jog across the grounds.

"I've just thought of something," said Harry. "We've got to go and find Weasley, now."

"Why?" panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up.

Harry shook his head and refused to answer as some of the small details he'd noticed, but hadn't really considered closely over the year started to fall into place.

Weeks back, a few days after they'd overheard Ron, Dean, and Seamus talking about someone called Norbert, Gryffindor House had woken up in the morning to find a few hundred house points missing from their hourglass in the Entrance Hall. Rumor had it that the three boys had been caught outside after curfew with a wild story about a dragon and a daring escape from the top of the astronomy tower.

Ron's propensity for stretching the truth in his story telling was already well known, so Harry hadn't given it much thought but… what if he hadn't been a lying twit, for once? What if there had been a dragon? And who did Harry know that wanted a dragon more than anything?

"Gred!" he shouted as he approached the twins and Lee at the shore. "Forge!"

"Oh, Seeker, my Seeker," one of the twins said, turning to face the five first years as they skidded to a stop.

"What can we-"

"do for our favorite-"

"Seeker of the golden snitch-"

"this fine day?" they asked, switching back and forth in their standard routine.

"No time for twin pong today," Harry snapped. "I need to find that git of a brother of yours. Any guesses where he might be?"

The twins shared a look and glanced at the four students standing behind Harry, who all looked just as confused as they felt.

"Why do you need to find Ron?" one of them asked, suddenly serious.

"I need to ask him a question, promise I'm not gonna get into a fight with him but it's important and I don't have time to explain."

They eyed each other for a moment longer before looking back at Harry. "You'll tell us about it later?" the second one pressed and Harry nodded. The twins turned their backs to him while one of them pulled something from within his robes. There was a low muttering of words that Harry couldn't make out and he resisted the urge to tap his foot impatiently.

A moment later the twins turned back around. "He's over by the Quidditch pitch- Hey don't forget to tell us what's going on later!"

The last was yelled at Harry's back, for as soon as he heard the words 'Quidditch pitch,' he'd tossed out a quick 'thank you' and took off at a run, his bonded and friend following on his heels. The twins exchanged a look.

"Think Harry lied and he's really looking to kick the crap out of our little brother?" one of them asked the other. Honestly, even they weren't sure which was actually Fred and which was George.

"No idea, Forge," the second twin replied. "But I'm sure, that if ickle Harrykins is looking to rearrange our baby brothers features, then he damn well deserves it."

The first twin nodded, rubbing his chin in a faux sage-like manner. "True, brother, true. So… wanna head down to Hogsmeade and grab a butter beer?"

"Sound's like a plan, Stan."

"Oi! I'm Gred, remember? Who the hell is Stan?"

#####

Harry skidded to a stop at the edge of the pitch, his head whipping back and forth, sharp eyes searching for his quarry. He finally spotted Ron Weasley near the changing rooms, holding a broom and talking animatedly with Dean and Seamus.

"Weasley!" Harry yelled, and started running again just as Neville and the girls finally caught up to him.

"How is he so damn fast?" Neville panted, red faced and sweating already as they started chasing after him again.

"He apparently spent a lot of his younger years running away from his cousin and his cousins friend," Daphne huffed out next to him while Hermione simply growled angrily and focused on breathing. "He said last week that their favorite game was something they called 'Harry hunting'."

Neville frowned but said nothing and kept running until they finally caught up to Harry.

"Ron," Harry was saying as they stopped behind him, "I need to ask you a question." The red head was standing there staring wide eyed at Harry while Dean and Seamus were looking curiously at the panting group before they shrugged and started walking away.

"Looks like you're busy, Ron," Dean said and Seamus nodded.

"Aye, we'll catch ya later, Mate."

Harry ignored them and focused on Ron.

"Well? What is it then?" Ron snapped after he'd finally recovered his wits.

"Those rumors about the dragon a couple months ago. Was there really a dragon or were you just embellishing like you usually do?"

"Of course there was a dragon!" Ron practically bellowed, suddenly going from relatively calm but curious to red faced indignation in a second flat. Harry was almost impressed by how quickly he could flip emotional states but pushed the thought aside to focus on the issue at hand.

"Where'd it come from? Why were you trying to get a dragon out of the castle?" _Please say Hagrid didn't have it, please say Hagrid didn't have it, please say Hagrid didn't have it…_

"Hagrid hatched it."

 _Fuck._

"Said he won it in a card game down at the pub in Hogsmead. Hatched it from the egg and everything. Hey… where are you going?"

Once again, Harry was off like a shot, and a chorus of groans filled the air behind him. He didn't notice. His entire focus was on Hagrid and the disturbing suspicions that had begun to solidify in the back of his mind.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd," said Harry, scrambling up the grassy slope toward Hagrid's hut, thankfully keeping to a pace the rest could keep up with, "that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it's against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don't you think?"

"How do you know that's what Hagrid wants more than anything?" Neville asked.

"He told me, when we first met he mentioned how much he'd love to have a dragon. Why didn't I see it before?"

"You didn't really know about it before," Hermione pointed out, already following his logic. "All we had were rumors, and not from a reliable source."

Hagrid was sitting on the front stoop of his hut, playing a flute that he held gently in his massive hands.

"Hullo," he said, smiling broadly at them behind his bushy beard. "Finished yer exams? Got time fee a drink?"

"Yes, please," said Ron and Harry whipped around, surprised that the red head had followed them.

"No," Harry cut in before Hagrid could rise to go inside his hut. "Thank you Hagrid, but we're in a hurry. Ron said you won that dragon egg that we heard about while playing cards with some stranger. What did the stranger look like?"

"Dunno," said Hagrid casually, "he wouldn't take his cloak off. Had the hood up the whole time we was there."

He blinked at the shocked look on their faces and raised his eyebrows.

"It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny fold in the Hog's Head. That's one o' the pubs down in the village. Anyway, I never saw his face."

Harry frowned, finger stroking the scar behind his jaw as the rest of the group eyed him carefully.

"What did you talk about while you were playing?" he asked. "I can't imagine you guys just played cards in silence the whole time. Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"

"Mighta come up." Hagrid frowned as he tried to remember. "Yeah… he asked what I did fer a livin' an' I told him about bein' gamekeeper here… Asked a bit about the sorta creatures I look after, so I told him about some o' them, said I'd always really wanted a dragon…. Least I think I did."

"You think?"

"Well I'm not rightly certain I remember all that well. He kept buying me drinks the whole time," Hagrid added the last with a wistful expression. "Right nice o' him, I thought."

"What else, Hagrid?"

"Well, he said he had a dragon egg that we could play for… but he wanted ter be sure I could handle it… So I told him after Fluffy, a dragon'd be a piece o' cake."

Harry groaned and pushed up his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "And this man… he seemed interested in Fluffy, did he?"

"Well… yeah… how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogrwarts? I told him, Fluffy's easy if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep-"

He cut off, suddenly looking horrified.

"I shouldn'ta told yeh that!" he blurted out. "Forget I said that! Hey… where're yeh goin'?"

None of them spoke to each other anymore, preferring to save their breath as they raced along behind Harry until he came to a halt in the entrance hall. The large space felt extremely cold and gloomy after the heat outside on the grounds.

"We've got to go to Dumbledore," Harry said, a frown marring his features. _Can we trust Dumbledore? That bastard left me with the Dursleys…_

He shook himself. "Whoever was under that cloak knows how to get past Fluffy. I'd be willing to lay money on the fact that it was Snape, but we can't say for sure."

"Harry, let's just go see him and tell him what we've found."

"What the hell is going on?" Ron snapped and Harry spun again, almost reaching for his wand in his surprise before he noticed the lanky redhead that'd kept up with them on their mad dash across the grounds.

"What're you still doing here?" he demanded.

"I want to know what's going on? You come over demanding answers and then just take off. What's happening?"

"Harry we don't have time for this, let's just go," Hermione told him, placing one calming hand on his arm as he glared at Ron. "Susan or Daphne can fill the idiot in on the way."

Ron spluttered and stuttered in a fury at being called an idiot but followed along as they started toward the Headmasters office. Hermione led the way since she had the best recollection of the route they'd taken on their first night in the castle and as they walked Susan and Daphne quickly filled Ron in on what they'd found out over the course of the year.

"Excuse me, can you please tell the Headmaster that we really need to talk to him?" Harry asked, nervously, of the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the headmasters office.

The gargoyle did nothing but blink and then it's eyes became distant. Ron and Neville were both gaping at the stone guardian.

" **The Headmaster is not present.** "

Ron and Neville jumped when the guardian suddenly spoke in a deep, gravely tone of voice.

Harry cursed and Hermione didn't even chastise him for his language as he spun and started down the hall again. "Come on," he called back. "Let's try McGonagall."

#####

Hermione stumbled into the common room past the portrait of the fat lady, a look of panic on her face to find her bond mates, Neville, and Ron waiting for her. Her bonded all wore looks of concern, as did Neville, but Ron just looked confused, staring at the four of them while they stood, staring at the entrance.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione practically wailed. "Snape came out and asked me what I was doing there so I said I was waiting for Flitwick and…" Harry stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders, giving a comforting squeeze and a lopsided smile.

"It's all right, 'Mione," he murmured. "Don't worry about it, it was a long shot really."

She gave him a watery smile, her lips trembling slightly but took a deep breath, seeming to gather herself and nodded as Harry led her the rest of the way over to the group.

"Dumbledore is out of the castle," Daphne started to list off.

"McGonagall doesn't believe us," Susan added.

"Snape is a greasy effing git," Hermione growled and ignored how everyone stared incredulously at her for insulting a professor.

"We can't even follow him and we have no idea where he is. Tactically we're working with minimal information and no moves left on the board," Ron mused rubbing his chin thoughtfully with one hand while everyone's eyes swiveled to him. It took a few moment's before he noticed their scrutiny and he sat up straighter in his seat at the low table near the fire. "What?" he snapped, irritably. "I'm not a complete idiot, and I love chess, it's basic strategic thinking."

"Real life isn't like chess, Ron," Hermione pointed. "Chess pieces move in specific, predictable ways governed by rules. There aren't any rules in real life."

"I know that, but the basic points of strategy, attack, and defense are still relevant."

"Not important right now, guys," Harry snapped, interrupting the argument before it could get started. "The basic point is what do we do?"

No one had anything to say about that and Harry sat back and sighed.

"That's it then," he muttered. "I'm going out there tonight and I'm gonna try to get the Stone first."

"You're barking," Ron blurted, eyes wide.

"You can't!"

"I have to," he snapped, glaring at Hermione for a moment before his gaze softened and he pushed calming feelings toward her through their bond. "I'm sorry, but I have to," he said in a much calmer tone. "I've been thinking about this whole thing and it doesn't make sense to me. I don't think it's Snape looking to steal the stone, or at least… not _just_ Snape," he admitted.

"What do you mean?" Daphne asked, absently pulling Hermione back so she sat against the seat between her and Susan while wrapping an arm around the girls shoulders.

"Look… it's just a thought that's been percolating around for a few weeks now, but… well… other than any greedy bastard, who would _most_ benefit from a stone that can grant immortality?"

They all stared at him blankly and he sighed. "When Hagrid brought me my letter and told me about magic and my parents… he took me to Diagon Alley to pick up my school things. After, we ate dinner at the Leaky Cauldron, and something he said stuck out at me. I'd asked him why I was so famous and he told me about Voldemort. But he said that he wasn't sure if he was actually dead. Said he didn't think there was enough human left in him to die, and apparently Dumbledore thinks the same thing."

He looked intently into each scared face as they stared back at him.

"What if Snape is trying to steal the stone so he can bring Voldemort back to power? If it's even a chance, even a possibility… I have to stop him. If none of the adults are going to listen then I'll just do it myself, like usual."

They were silent for a while, each of them taking in that frightening possibility.

"You're right," Hermione finally admitted in a small voice. "He needs to be stopped."

"I've got my invisibility cloak from my dad," Harry pointed out. "I can use that to get to Fluffy's room.

"Will it cover all four of us though?" Daphne asked.

"What? Four? You guys aren't coming."

"And what makes you think that you could stop us, Harry?" Susan growled, her deep blue eyes flashing dangerously at him. "You've made a bit of a habit of protecting us this year, but we're not helpless and we don't need to be protected all the time," she snapped.

Harry just stared at them for several long seconds before he nodded once.

"Sorry, t-that's five," Neville spoke up and glared at Harry when his head whipped over to him. "Wherever a Potter goes," he said evenly, despite the stutter when he first spoke up. "I would never be able to live it down, or forgive myself, if I let you do this without me, Harry."

"You're all absolutely barking," Ron blurted out.

"Doesn't matter, Weasley," Harry snapped. "It needs to be done."

"Well count me out," he said, standing abruptly. "If it was just the chance to take Snape down I'm all for it. But if You-Know-Who is involved I'm not going anywhere near this. If you guys were smart you'd stay away too." Without another word he strode away from the group and headed up to the dorm.

"So we're going?" Harry asked the rest. Neville and his girls nodded, their faces set in grim determination. "That's it then. Tonight, we're stealing the Stone."

#####

After dinner the five of them sat in the common room in their corner, apart from the rest of their housemates. Neville and the girls all shifted and fidgeted in their seats, filled with nervous tension. Harry sat calmly, staring into the fire. At times the girls found themselves wondering if he was even blinking.

Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed, leaving them completely alone and without a word Neville looked to Harry and nodded his head. Standing, Harry reached inside his robes and pulled out the shining silvery cloak and handed it over to Hermione.

"Here," he said. "If the four of you huddle close enough together and keep low, it should cover all of you.

"What about you?" she asked and Harry shot her a lopsided grin.

"Trust me, I don't need it."

As they left the common room, four of them huddled uncomfortably beneath the cloak, Harry refused to say anything about how he was going to avoid being caught out after curfew and simply led the way quickly, but silently through the halls of Hogwarts.

As they walked, Hermione thought she was starting to see how he was so confident that he didn't need the cloak. As he moved along the hallway he seemed to vanish and reappear dressed as he was almost entirely in black and with the fluttering edges of his robes helping to break up the outline of his body as he moved from one deep shadow to another. He had a lot of practice escaping notice, she realized. He'd gotten good at hiding and moving without being seen. It must have been a necessary survival skill at his relative's home.

A hand gripped her shoulder and squeezed gently and she briefly glanced back into a pair of knowing ice blue eyes. Daphne nodded once, and gently prodded her back toward the front to pay attention where she was walking as they turned a corner and Daphne suddenly clamped a hand over Hermione's mouth, just before she screamed in shock.

Peeves the poltergeist floated inches in front of her face, bobbing gently from side to side as he sung quietly to himself. The four of them froze in place, unsure whether to move back or to wait for the poltergeist to get bored and move on. While they were trying to decide what to do a voice came from the far end of the hall.

" _Old fat spider, spinning in a tree!_

 _Old fat spider, can't see me!_

 _Attercop! Attercop!_

 _Won't you stop,_

 _Stop your spinning and look at me!_

 _Old Tomnoddy, all big body,_

 _Old Tomnoddy can't spy me!_

 _Attercop! Atrercop_

 _Down you drop!_

 _You'll never catch me up your tree!"_

"Who's there?" Peeves yelled, floating forward a few paces, his head swiveling from side to side. "Are there ickle students out of bed? Naughty, naughty," he cackled and floated off down the hall at high speed.

The four invisible students carefully crept down the hall behind the specter until Harry suddenly rolled out from under a tapestry and scrambled to his feet with a tight grin on his face.

"How'd you pull that off, Mister Baggins?" Hermione asked, a bright grin on her face despite knowing he wouldn't be able to see it.

He leaned down and pulled up the tapestry to reveal a small alcove, a gap just big enough for him to fit into that was completely hidden when the tapestry was allowed to hang properly. He held a finger to his lips, let the tapestry drop down and started leading the way again.

Minutes later they were in the hall outside the forbidden are and Harry paused, pointing at the door.

It was standing open.

"There you are," Harry said quietly. "Snape's already inside. Last chance to back out guys, I wouldn't blame any of you."

"Shut it, Potter," Daphne growled. "We're not leaving you to do this on your own, so let's get in there already."

They pulled off the cloak and Harry quickly folded it and stuffed it into his pocket. As soon as they neared the door Hermione pursed her lips and started to whistle. Harry cocked his head to the side for a second, listening to the tune as Fluffy's three massive heads, which had been growling lowly at them as they entered the room, slowly drooped, eyes sliding closed in moments.

"Fur Elise?" Harry asked and Hermione nodded, continuing to whistle the tune. Harry and Neville scurried quickly over to the huge dog and between the two of them they were able to pull its huge paw off of the trap door and yanked it open, looking down into darkness.

"What's down there?" Daphne asked, wand in hand and her eyes trained on Fluffy along with Susan.

"N-nothing," Neville stuttered. "It's just b-b-black."

"Look, I'll go first," Harry hissed, not wanting to risk waking the dog even with Hermione still whistling. "If it's safe I'll call up to you guys. If I don't yell, don't follow me, head straight for the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, got it?"

Neville nodded and Harry slid his legs over the edge of the hole. Turning, he grasped the edge and lowered himself until he was hanging on by his fingers. A moment later, he let go.

Cool, damp wind whistled past his ears as he fell for what seemed like an inordinately long time then he suddenly landed on something soft with a thump. He took a deep steadying breath for a moment, staring up at the square of light above that looked to be the size of a postage stamp.

"It's okay," he called out. "It's a soft landing, you can jump, just try not to land on each other.

After a brief pause Neville landed next to Harry followed quickly by the three girls.

"How far under the school do you think we are?" Hermione asked as she started shifting around, trying to find her footing on the tangle of vines they'd landed on.

"Who know's?" Harry said with a shrug. "At least this plant thing was here, guess it's to break our fall."

"Guy's?" Neville spoke up, a hesitant note in his voice.

"Huh?" Harry said, distracted as he tried to pull his foot that had gotten tangled up in the vines.

"Guy's this is a Devil's Snare!"

"A what?"

"It's a deadly plant! Don't move, just hold still, let me think a second." They all froze at which point Harry realized the vines he was getting tangled in were moving, slowly wrapping him tighter in their grip.

"Not to hurry you, Nev," he muttered through gritted teeth, "but please hurry!"

"Devils snare, the faster you move the faster it'll fight. It likes the dark and the damp… someone cast a light spell!"

"Lumos Maxima!" Susan bellowed whipping her wand through the motions and Harry screwed his eyes shut as a brilliant flare of light etched his eyelids. A high screaming sound echoed in his ears and the snakelike tendrils of the plant shuddered and retreated, pulling away from them until they were gone.

Moment's later the light receded from a blinding flare to a gentle glow, bright enough for them to see without blinding them and he blinked his eyes open to find they were all lying on a rough stone floor with a hole in the wall not far from them, presumably where the Snare had retreated from the light.

"Quick move, Susan," he gasped out and she sent him a tremulous smile as they all scrambled to their feet. A quick look around showed a rough stone passage as their only way forward and Harry led them toward it.

They hadn't gone thirty feet down the passageway before Neville spoke up.

"Harry?" he said in a small sounding voice and they all stopped, turning to look at their friend. Neville was pale and trembling, sweat beading his brow and his hands shook violently.

"What's wrong, Nev?"

"I shouldn't be here. I'm not brave enough for this, I'm just going to hold you back."

Part of Harry wanted to move forward. If Neville didn't want to come he didn't want to force him. But another part saw it for what it was. This was a turning point. It would be a defining moment for Neville Longbottom. Told his whole life he was weak and barely a squib. Harry new there was a powerful, confident wizard somewhere inside his friend. He'd seen glimpses of it throughout the year.

"Nev, let me tell you a story."

"We don't have time for stories Harry," Daphne tried to point out but Harry shot her a look.

"We'll make time for this one. Walk with me, Nev." He gestured with one arm for Neville to come with him and the group kept walking as Harry started to talk. "I never really agreed with how Gryffindor is described. It's called the house of the brave, and I don't think that's an apt description. Not for a true Gryffindor, at least."

"What do you mean?" Neville asked.

"There was a book series I read when I was younger by one of my favorite authors. The Xanth Series, it was called. In the land of Xanth, every person born has a magical talent. No two talents are ever the same and they range from simple, weak abilities to powerful magician class powers like creating storms from nothing. Anyway, in one of the books there was this kid, I think he was nine or so. I don't remember his name or which book it was but that's not the important part.

"The important part is that this kid goes off to get an answer to a question from the Magician of Information, Humphrey. Humphrey will answer any question, and his answers are always right, but to get an answer you have to get through three challenges in order to earn your answer. So, this kid, he gets through two of the challenges and then he reaches the third challenge and it's a Gorgon."

"Gorgon?"

"A mythical creature, a woman with snakes for hair whose gaze can turn a person to stone," Hermione supplied from behind them and Neville nodded.

"Anyway, he comes across a Gorgon, and he's terrified. He could die right this minute. And he closes his eyes and runs past the Gorgon and into the castle. A few minutes later the Gorgon is talking to him. Turns out she's the magicians wife and she never would have turned him to stone but he hadn't known that and still needed to get past her, which he did, and she says that he was very courageous."

"Courageous? But he closed his eyes and ran?" Neville sounded confused, but he didn't sound scared anymore and Harry smiled to himself.

"Exactly. And almost exactly what the kid said, too. The Gorgon tells him that there's a difference between being brave and having courage. Brave means that you're not afraid, and to her mind that means stupid. Fear is an important thing. It's like pain. Pain tells us when something's wrong with our bodies. Pain let's us know that we're hurt and not to push ourselves. Fear serves a similar function. Fear tells us when we're in too deep or when a situation is dangerous.

"But having courage. Having courage means being afraid, feeling that fear, and doing what you need to do anyway. The kid closed his eyes yes, and yes, he ran away from the Gorgon. But he didn't run out of the castle. He ran past her _into_ the castle. He was afraid, but he pushed forward. He didn't retreat. That's courage. Courage is being afraid, but doing what you need to do anyway. You were afraid, Nev, but you kept your cool and you remembered about the Devil's Snare. You jumped, right behind me, and you saved our lives back there." Harry stopped and placed a hand on Neville's shoulder, looking his friend in the eye by the light from Susan's wand.

"I think you're very courageous, Neville. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. And that's why you got sorted into Gryffindor. It's not about a lack of fear. It's courage in the face of fear."

Harry could see that his words had had a profound effect on Neville. His friend stood straighter, his shoulders back and his head held high. There was a steely glint in his eyes that Harry didn't think he'd ever seen before but it suited the young scion of house Longbottom.

"Thank's Harry. That really helps."

"Anytime, Nev."

They kept walking, Neville now leading the way with Susan beside him, using her wand to light their path.

"You never cease to amaze me, Harry Potter."

Harry turned and smiled at Hermione on his right side as a small hand slid into his left and he turned to favor Daphne with a smile as well. In silence they kept walking toward their next challenge.

#####

Amelia was sitting in her office finishing up the last of the mountain of parchment work that she had to get through before she could leave for the day. She hummed as she worked and occasionally reached up to pat her robes, reassuring herself that the folded document she'd sequestered in one of the inside pockets was still present.

She was looking forward to the next day, and at the same time felt a jangling of nerves that she hadn't experienced in some time. She loved giving good news to people. But she still worried just how well this news would be received. He'd seemed open to the idea. But was it really what he wanted? She consoled herself with the idea that it was going to be a temporary situation, at first. He wasn't being forced into anything, the decision would be his-

"Amelia!"

She started, jumping in her seat as the sudden voice intruded on her rumination and spun to face the fireplace.

"Sweet Merlin, Minvera," she gasped out, one hand going to her chest. "Give me a damn heart attack. What is it? Is Susan okay? Harry?"

"Honestly, I don't know, Amelia," the face of Minerva McGonagall admitted amongst a wreath of green flames.

"You don't know?"

"Several children came to me earlier today with a spectacular story. Your niece, Misters Longbottom, Potter, and the youngest Weasley boy as well as Misses Granger and Greengrass all came and told me they were positive that a professor was going to be stealing an item the Headmaster has hidden here in the castle."

"Why is the Headmaster using a castle filled with children as his own personal bank vault?" Amelia ground out, anger flaring in her chest.

"It is a long story, Amelia, but right now there are more pressing concerns. I told them I would look into it but there was no way that this item was in any danger. I just checked Gryffindor tower and only Mister Weasley is still abed. The rest are missing. I woke Mister Weasley and questioned him on the matter and he informed me that they were going after the item, attempting to beat this Professor they suspect before he could get to it. There are numerous traps and security precautions in place to protect the item and I believe the children could be in danger."

Amelia surged to her feet and tapped her Auror badge with her wand. "Carol," she snapped. "Get Kingsley Shacklebolt and Rufus Scrimgeour and have them meet me at Hogwarts in Professor McGonagalls office, immediately. Back up Minerva, I'm coming through."

#####

"Okay… So Fluffy was from Hagrid, obviously," Harry gasped, sitting on the hard floor with his back against a wall. "The Devil's Snare was from Sprout. The keys had to be Flitwick's work… who else are we gonna have to deal with?"

"McGonagall for sure," Hermione said, panting from her spot right beside him. "Probably Quirrell and Snape too. I don't think there would be anyone else."

The flight to grab that blasted key had been worse than chasing the snitch. Harry wished he'd had his own broom instead of the old things they'd been forced to ride but they'd been able to get it. Susan and Neville had joined him in the air while Daphne and Hermione had tried to direct them from the ground. As soon as Harry's hand had closed around the large, old looking key, the rest of them had gone ballistic and it had turned into a flying race to avoid being turned into a pincushion as a fluttering army of winged keys suddenly gave chase.

He'd dived for the ground, pulled out and thrown the key to Hermione who ducked a wave of the keys that embedded themselves into the heavy wooden door. Susan and Neville'd made for the ground while Harry'd led the keys on a merry chase and behind him he'd heard a voice cry out in pain but he hadn't been able to tell who it was in his efforts on staying alive. He could tell that none of the girls were in pain so he assumed it was Neville and hoped his friend hadn't been hurt too badly.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed. "It's open!"

He'd twisted upside down and dived again. As he was hurtling toward the open door he could just make out Neville rushing through, one arm hanging limply at his side. Hermione's wild mane was visible as she peeked around the edge of the door and just as he burst through as fast as the broom could carry him she'd slammed it shut, just in time to hear dozens upon dozens of sharp impacts as the keys slammed into the wood that was all that kept them from tearing through their flesh.

"You know," Harry said, "it's almost like they don't want people getting to the other end of this thing."

Hermione chuckled weakly and slowly pushed herself to her feet, making her way over to Susan and Daphne who were inspecting Neville's injury.

"It's nothing too terrible," Susan decided, leaning back on her heels as Daphne held her lit wand over the wound. It was at least four inches long, a deep gash high on his left upper arm and was bleeding steadily. Quickly, Susan tore his already ripped sleeve into long strips and wrapped the injury the best she could, tying it off carefully as Neville averted his gaze and winced in pain.

"All right there, Nev?" Harry asked, pushing himself to his feet with a groan. His body ached as muscles that had been held tense tried to remember how to relax and he nervously stroked the scar behind his jaw.

"I'll live, Harry. Let's keep going."

Harry helped his friend to his feet and the five of them continued forward down a new passage.

The next chamber was so dark they couldn't see anything at all. But as they stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.

They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. Harry, and Hermione shivered slightly — the towering white chessmen had no faces.

"Now what do we do?" Harry whispered.

Hermione frowned as she studied the board. "I think… I think we need to play our way across."

Harry groaned. "Of for the love of…" He sighed and turned to face the four of them. "Any of you any good at chess?" he asked and they all shook their heads. Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. "Me neither," he admitted. "Could actually kind of use Ron's help, right about now. Who knew there was a challenge down here that would've been perfect for him?"

He turned and faced the board. "Wands out," he said and held his own aloft as he reached for that anger that he knew was still buried deep inside. He reached for the well, the pool of power that he could always feel and pulled at it. His wand grew warm in his hand as he pumped power down his arm and into it.

"I do not have the patience for this shite," he snarled and twisted his wrist. "Reducto!"

The red curse streaked across the board and obliterated one of the white pawns when it struck. Harry broke into a run, three more Reductos spitting from his wand in rapid succession as he heard footsteps behind him and knew his friends had followed.

"I'm sick and tired of this crap!" he roared as the white pieces started to converge in an attempt to block them. "REDUCTO!"

Four pieces erupted in a shower of stone shards that scattered across the board and they drove through the opening he created. A Reducto from Daphne's wand shattered the wooden door and they sprinted through as the sound of stone crashing against stone echoed loudly behind them.

#####

"Where are they?" Amelia growled out as she stepped through the Floo into McGonagall's office.

"The third floor corridor has been forbidden this year. Headmaster Dumbledore has a valuable item hidden there in an attempt to keep it safe."

"Why would he do that in a school full of children?" she snapped and Minerva shrugged.

"I couldn't begin to tell you the Headmaster's motivations."

The fire flared up behind them and two men stepped through wearing Auror's robes. Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped forward.

"Madam Bones?" he asked in his deep, smooth voice. "What's the situation, Ma'am?"

"Children out of bed and possibly in danger. My niece is one of them."

Both men's eyes hardened and they nodded sharply.

"Minerva, lead the way."

As they walked Professor McGonagall quickly filled them in on the various traps that had been placed to keep anyone away from the mystery item that she refused to name. By the time they reached the corridor and found the door standing open the three of them wore grim expressions and without even pausing burst through the door.

Three bright red stunners erupted from their wands, each striking one of the massive dog's heads. A second volley followed on the heels of the first and Fluffy collapsed with a pitiful whine. Amelia didn't have the time to feel bad for the poor animal though and strode quickly over to the open trap door.

"Get back to your office and see about getting hold of Dumbledore," she snapped and Minerva nodded and hurried from the room as Amelia hunched over and inspected the dark hole in the floor. "Kingsley, light."

Kingsley reached into his robes and pulled out a small orb which he tapped once with his wand before he dropped it down the hole. Before reaching the bottom it burst into bright light and Amelia was just able to make out snaking tendrils ripping back into a dark opening at the base of the wall. Without waiting she leapt into the hole, her wand pointing down as she cast a half a dozen cushioning charms in rapid succession.

She landed heavily on her feet and a moment later the two Aurors landed on either side of her and she started off down the tunnel, lighting her wand and raising it above her head to light their way.

The room filled with keys would have been fascinating but Amelia simply blew open the door without breaking stride and kept walking as keys flew everywhere, bouncing off the shields quickly erected by her Aurors and clattering to the ground around them.

"Gotta say," Kingsley muttered as they walked. "I'm kind of impressed with these kids. Not many first years could have handled that Snare back there, much less those keys."

"I'll be impressed with them after I'm finished grounding them," Amelia growled. The dark chamber they entered lit up and she came up short for a moment staring at the destruction before them. "I stand corrected," she whispered. "I'll be impressed now."

More than half the white pieces were completely destroyed, two or three wandered listlessly around the space with chunks missing and every single black piece was huddled in one corner of the room, quivering in terror.

"Mister Potter has certainly been here," she muttered with a rueful grin as she led the way across the board and through the blasted door on the other side.

"Holy… what is that smell?" Scrimgeour groaned as they stepped into the next hall, one hand held over his nose.

"Troll," Amelia said and pointed to the corpse lying on the ground nearby. "I don't think the kids did that one though. It's even bigger than the one Harry killed back on Halloween, so I understand."

Both Aurors fixed her with a dumbstruck look.

"An eleven-year-old killed a troll?" Kingsley stammered out and Amelia nodded.

"Come on." She continued forward, and found a wall of flames blocking their way at the end of the hall. A quick flame freezing charm and she held her breath and stepped through.

"Auntie?"

"Susan?"

"Auntie Amelia!"

Amelia stumbled back a step when a black and red blur slammed into her midsection and a pair of slender arms wrapped around her waist. Neville Longbottom sat against one wall, looking a bit pale and with his left sleeve tattered and wrapped around his arm, a bit of blood trickled down his forearm toward his hand. Daphne Greengrass looked more disheveled than she'd probably ever been, her face dotted with dirt and her robes torn and rumpled while Hermione Granger stood with her back to the room, steadfastly staring at a wall of black flames that blocked the way into the next room.

"Are you all okay?" Amelia demanded. "Where's Harry?"

"We're fine, Madam Bones," Daphne told her. "Harry went on, we couldn't follow him. The potions would only allow one person through."

Amelia idly noted the table with several little glass bottles lined up precisely on its surface. _That'd be Snape's challenge,_ she thought.

"What happened?"

"We got through the chessboard and that troll was already dead and when we got here there was only enough of the potion for one of us to go forward and Harry drank it before we could stop him and he-"

"Susan, you're rambling."

Beyond the flames a great screeching sound echoed and all three girls suddenly tensed. Susan spun from her arms just as Daphne whipped around to face the flames Hermione still hadn't looked away from.

As one, three voices cried out in a pained wail that set even the hardened Aurors to shivering.

"HARRY!"

All three girls collapsed, like marionettes with their strings suddenly cut and Amelia surged forward, terror shooting through her. Another flame freezing charm and she plunged into the black flames as something foul, fetid, and icy cold brushed past her in the opposite direction.

#####

 _Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

 _Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,_

 _One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

 _Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

 _Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

 _Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line._

 _Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

 _To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

 _First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

 _You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;_

 _Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

 _But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;_

 _Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

 _Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

 _Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

 _Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._

"Oh, this is brilliant," Hermione gushed as she read the paper they'd picked up off the small table in the center of the room. As soon as they'd entered a wall of purple flames had sprung up behind them, blocking the door they'd just entered through, while a wall of black flames appeared in front, blocking the way forward.

"What's so brilliant about it?" Daphne asked as she studied the seven bottles lined up on the table.

"It's not magic, it's logic. It's a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck here forever trying to figure out what to do."

"And we're not going to be?" Neville asked as Susan helped lower him to the ground. They hadn't been able to get the bleeding to stop entirely and he was starting to feel a little light headed. Harry wasn't sure if it was a result of blood loss or if he just wasn't used to pain and the sight of his own blood as Harry was.

He shoved those thoughts aside and focused his attention back on Hermione.

"No, everything we need is right here. All the clues. Just give me a moment."

"Give _us_ a moment," Daphne interjected and dragged Hermione over to the table. Harry glanced at Neville and Susan and they both shrugged, Neville with a bit of a pained wince as the motion shifted his arm.

He glanced back at Hermione again, who was standing shoulder to shoulder with Daphne, the two of them reading through the paper and muttering to each other as they pointed at various bottles.

"Got it," Daphne called out as Hermione reached out and snatched up one of the bottles, spinning around with a triumphant smile on her face. "The smallest bottle, this one will get us through the black fire, toward the Stone.

Harry took the tiny bottle from her and held it up, looking at it with a critical eye.

"That's hardly one swallow. That'd only be enough for one of us."

They all looked at each other before Harry sighed and pushed down on their link. Not enough to cut them off entirely, he'd learned his lesson there, but enough that it'd be harder for them to track how he was feeling.

"Which one will get us back through the purple flames?"

"Uhh… that one!" she snatched up a larger round bottle from the right end of the line.

"Harry!"

She spun back around as Susan screamed and turned in time to see Harry lowering the tiny bottle from his lips as he swallowed the contents. Turning, he threw the bottle to the floor, smashing it on the stones.

"Drink that," he said, pointing at the bottle Hermione clutched in her suddenly nerveless fingers. "Use the brooms in the key room to get out. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to get Dumbledore, we need him."

Without waiting to see if they would listen he rushed forward and plunged through the black flames and into the room beyond.

As he came out the other side his wand was already coming up and he spat out, "Diffindo!" The scythe like shape of the cutting curse ripped through the air, only to be batted aside with contemptuous ease and Harry skidded to a stop, his mouth dropping open as he took in the dark figure before him.

"Professor Quirrell?" he blurted out.

Quirrell smiled. His face wasn't twitching and he stood straight and tall as opposed to his usual hunched and nervous posture. "Me," he said, calmly. "I was really beginning to wonder whether I'd run into you down here, Potter. Your family has always seen fit to poke their noses where they weren't wanted."

"But…" Harry trailed off, frowning in confusion. "But I thought… Snape was…"

"Severus?" Quirrell laughed for a moment before his face took on a thoughtful cast. "Yes, he does seem the type, doesn't he? Quite useful to constantly have him swooping around intimidating and insulting everyone that crosses his path. Next to someone like that who would ever suspect me of being after the Stone?"

"But, Snape tried to kill me?" Harry hid a wince. He hated how that'd sounded like a question. As he talked he slowly moved to his left, getting away from the flames at his back and giving himself some room to maneuver if need be.

"No, _I_ tried to kill you. Your friends knocked me over in their rush to set Snape on fire at the Quidditch match and broke my eye contact with you. I'd have had you long before then if Snape hadn't been muttering the countercurse, trying to save you."

Harry couldn't comprehend that. There was no way Snape had been trying to save his life, it just didn't make any sense.

"You're too nosy to live, Potter. All your scurrying around this school. Especially on Halloween. I know you saw me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."

"I didn't see anything. Susan said she saw Snape, but I hadn't even noticed." Harry took another step to his left.

"None of that, Potter," Quirrell barked and snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang into existence and made to wrap themselves tightly around him but Harry slashed his wand.

"Diffindo," he cried out and grinned when the cutting curse sliced through the ropes and he suddenly was forced to dive to the side as a red curse split the air where he'd been standing.

"You're faster than I'd given you credit for, Potter," Quirrell snarled and snapped his fingers again. That time, Harry was still trying to scramble to his feet and was unable to use his wand or get out of the way and he found his arms pinned to his sides as the ropes tightened around him.

"You let that troll in, didn't you?" Harry snarled, struggling against the ropes which only seemed to tighten more in response to his actions.

"Of course I did. I have a special gift with trolls, you see. Unfortunately, Snape was able to head me off before I got to the third floor that night. That stupid dog didn't even manage to properly maim him," he muttered, sounding disappointed.

"Now wait quietly, like a good little boy. I have a rather interesting mirror here that I was in the process of examining."

That was when Harry noticed the large mirror standing behind the professor. It was one hell of a mirror, he had to admit. Standing as tall as a classroom ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, supported by two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on woshi._

"This mirror is the key," Quirrell muttered, staring at the mirror with a mad hint of desire in his eyes. He continued to mutter and mumble as he tapped his way around the frame.

"I saw you and Snape in his classroom," he blurted out, determined to keep the lunatic from focusing too much on his task. He had to keep him distracted, give Dumbledore time to get back.

"Yes," Quirrell muttered, not exactly paying attention to Harry. "The dungeon bat was onto me by that time, trying to figure out how far I'd gotten against the protections around the Stone." He turned and smirked at Harry. "He tried to intimidate me, as if he could, when I have had Lord Voldemort on my side…"

He trailed off suggestively and a chill ran through Harry's body.

"I was right," he whispered before speaking again in a stronger voice, "I was right. Voldemort didn't die that night, not completely. He's still out there."

"Not 'out there', Potter," Quirrell snapped, spinning to face Harry. "Here! He's here, with me, right this moment."

He was nuts, Harry decided. Quirrell had snapped his twig, completely.

"I see the Stone," Quirrell was muttering, glaring distastefully at the mirror. "I'm presenting it to my master… but where is it!" he bellowed the last in frustration and let a blasting curse hurtle from his wand toward the far wall in his mounting anger and frustration.

Harry struggled against the ropes, twisting and fighting, but they refused to give in the slightest.

"What do you mean, Voldemort is here?" Harry demanded, trying to catch Quirrells attention again. "It's just you and me in this room."

"He is with me wherever I go," said Quirrell quietly. "I met him when I traveled the world, a foolish young man at that time, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was, Potter. There is no good. No evil. There is only power and those too weak to seek it… I have served him faithfully since then… but I am weak, I have failed him many times and he has had to be quite harsh with me…"

Harry stared, dumfounded at the madness spewing from the mans mouth. _He's completely barmy,_ he thought as Quirrell turned back to the mirror once again.

"I don't understand… is the Stone _inside_ the mirror? Should I break it?"

"Use the boy… Use the boy…"

Harry started, tripping as the ropes around his ankles caused him to overbalance and he fell over. What the hell was that voice?

Quirrell rounded on him, his dark eyes locking on Harry.

"Yes.. Potter, come here." He clapped his hands once and the ropes wrapping Harry up like a Christmas Goose fell away and he slowly climbed to his feet.

"Come here," Quirrell snapped. "Look in this mirror and tell me what you see."

Harry walked toward him. It's just a mirror, what did the lunatic expect him to see except his own reflection? And, just as expected, when he found himself yanked in front of the mirror he saw nothing but his own reflection, looking small, pale, and scared.

Then his eyes widened as his reflection suddenly smiled at him. It reached into its trouser pocket and withdrew a small blood red stone, about the size of his palm. With another conspiratorial smile and a wink, his reflection dropped the Stone back into his pocket and a moment later Harry felt something heavy dropping into his real pocket.

Realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.

 _He had the Stone._

"What do you see, boy?" Quirrell snapped and before Harry could begin to think up something random the image in the mirror swirled and shifted. Figures filled it and Harry watched as his own reflection swelled and grew up and out until he no longer looked the same. He was taller, broader, older. At least in his mid twenties, if Harry had to guess. On his right stood a woman with wild, untamed brown hair and a beautiful smile. Cinnamon colored eyes looked back at him and she turned and drew the older version of him into a kiss.

 _Hermione?_

He almost jumped when he recognized the woman as an older version of his bond mate. The two figures pulled apart and an arm came into the frame from older Harry's left side. A body followed, another gorgeous woman with vibrant red hair that fell in waves to her waist. Her robes clung to a stunning figure and she winked one deep blue eye at real Harry before she turned and pulled older Harry into a kiss just as passionate as Hermione had just done.

 _Susan?_

When that kiss ended, as Harry was beginning to suspect would happen, Susan moved aside and another figure walked into the frame. This one had long blond hair, straight and shimmering with reflected light as she ignored real Harry entirely and allowed herself to be wrapped in older Harry's arms as their lips met.

 _And Daphne._

"What do you see Potter?" Quirrell growled loudly in his ear and Harry jumped, shaking himself out of his stupor.

"Ummm… a girl," he mumbled. "I'm older and there's a girl, a beautiful girl, and she's kissing me."

"Gah, useless boy!" Quirrell practically bellowed and shoved Harry aside, sending him sprawling to the hard stones.

"He lies…" spoke the third voice that Harry still couldn't identify. Where was it coming from? Who was it?

"Potter!" Quirrell rounded on him and Harry scrambled backwards as the madman trained his wand on him.

"Let me speak to him… face to face…"

Quirrell straightened up, turning his attention away from Harry to speak to the empty air around him. "But Master, you are not strong enough," he protested.

"I have strength… enough… for this…" the voice said and without a word Quirrell reached up and began to remove that stupid, smelly turban that he always wore and as he did Harry began to notice something unusual.

As more and more of the Professors head became uncovered it became clear that it was strangely shaped and without any hair. By the time he had removed it entirely and turned his back on him, Harry was gripped by an overwhelming terror as the crimson reptilian eyes that he remembered so vividly from his nightmares locked onto his.

The face sticking out of the back of Quirrell's head was deformed, disgusting, and horrifying with chalk white skin, those glaring red eyes and slits in place of nostrils, like a snakes.

"Harry Potter…" it whispered.

Harry tried to scrabble further back but his body wouldn't move.

"Do you see, Potter, what I have become? What you have done to me? Reduced to this, a mere shadow and vapor… I hold solid form only when I can share the body of another. But once I have the Elixer of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own… Now… why don't you hand over that Stone in your pocket?"

He knew. Voldemort _knew_

Feeling surged back into his body and he scrambled backwards, rolling to his feet and backing away from the frightful apparition in front of him. His eyes darted around the room looking for something, anything to help him as Voldemort continued to rant and ramble.

"… Meet the same end as your parents…" he was saying. "They died… begging me for mercy…"

"LIAR!" Harry bellowed. "I've heard that night! My mother begged you to let me live. She sacrificed herself. She did everything to protect me!"

"How touching," Voldemort hissed as Quirrell walked backward toward Harry, letting Voldemort keep him in sight. "I always value bravery… Yes, your parents were brave, Harry Potter. Your father fought bravely, but still fell to my wand… and your mother… she needn't have died but she was trying to protect you… Now… give me the Stone, or your mothers sacrifice will have been in vain."

"NEVER!"

Harry jerked to his left than reversed direction in a sprint toward the door on his right as Voldemort shrieked behind him, 'SEIZE HIM!" and the next second, Quirrell's hand closed on his wrist.

Needle sharp pain seared its way through his scar, his head felt as though it was about to split in two and Harry cried out in pain. He yelled, struggling with all his might against the grip Quirrell had on him and, surprisingly, broke free as the man let go, shrieking in agony as his hand began to smoke and blister before his eyes.

""SEIZE HIM. SEIZE HIM!"

Quirrell sprang forward, driving Harry to his back as his hands came around the boys neck. Harry struggled but with his body pinned beneath the mans knees he couldn't get free and moments later Quirrel reared back both hands sizzling and smoking.

"I cannot hold him. Master?"

"Then kill him and be done with it you fool!"

"AAARGH!"

Before Quirrell was able to retrieve his wand Harry, in desperation, reached up and grasped the mans face. Lightning erupted behind his eyes as their skin made contact and pain roared through his body but Harry refused to let go. Quirrell surged to his feet in an attempt to escape and Harry followed, leaping bodily onto the man and driving him to the ground just as he'd been held moments before.

"You're never killing anyone again!" Harry bellowed and drove his fist down into the red and blistering face of his Defense Professor. Over and over, his fist rose and fell and each time their skin made contact it came with a flare of agony and the sizzle of burning flesh as slowly, Quirrell's face was reduced to a melted slag of blood and burned tissue.

Finally, with an inarticulate roar of rage Harry reared back and drove both fists down and the mans head caved in completely and after a spasmodic twitch, fell still beneath him.

Harry sat back, panting from exertion and pain and stared down as the body continued to burn and disintegrate beneath him. A cold wind began to blow through the room.

"Harry… Potter…"

Harry froze as the hissing voice of Voldemort sounded from beneath Quirrells head. Slowly, the head began to turn. Muscle tore, blood squirted, and with a sickening crack the neck snapped as the head turned one hundred and eighty degrees so Voldemort could fix his hateful crimson gaze on Harry.

"Potter…" he hissed. Blackish blood leaked from the slits of his nose and from his eyes and mouth, leaving streaks on the white flesh. "You may know… Potter… more than most, of which I speak…"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Harry snarled.

Voldemort smiled. "You know violence. You… you are not as weak as that pacifistic fool… Dumbledore." He spoke with great, gasping breaths. "You know the truth of power. Take it… Harry… there is no good. There is no evil… One day, you'll join me and help me cleanse this world… cleanse it… of the taint… that-"

"I will never, EVER work with YOU!" Harry cut him off, screaming with rage and, once again lifted both hands, this time bring them down and driving his thumbs into and _through_ those hateful crimson orbs.

Voldemort shrieked, a high pitched wail filled the air, more than any body should have been able to produce. A noxious cloud of black and green rose around him and Harry felt a chill seep deep into his bones. Beneath him the body suddenly exploded and Harry was flung hard and far through the air.

He felt something solid against his back, the back of his head whipped against the wall and several loud cracking sounds filled the air. Pain flared briefly in his body before all feeling fled and the last thing Harry Potter would remember, was the raised voices of three young women, each screaming his name.

He fell to the floor, half open green eyes staring at nothing as the light of life left them.

 **Authors notes the Second: Don't kill me! *Hides* Yes. A horrible cliff hanger, I know, I'm sorry I don't do them very often I swear! Please forgive and don't kill me, you'll never find out what happened if you kill me. Anyway, I'll be getting the next chapter up as soon as I can, probably before what would have been my next scheduled post cause I'm just so excited for the whole thing.**

 **By the way, the song that Harry sings to distract Peeves? It's from The Hobbit and was sung by Bilbo Baggins to draw the giant spiders away from the dwarves so said dwarves could escape.**

 **See ya around, gang.**

 **Rotten Writer**


	15. Heading Home

**Authors Notes: Rotten Writer here with chapter 14 of Soul Scars. Been a wild ride so far and I, for one, have been having a real blast with this whole thing. Some parts haven't worked out quite like I'd originally thought and while some of that has been better than my original plan, some might not have worked out so well. But it's all a constant, shifting work in progress and I'm having way too much fun with the whole thing.**

 **So, with this first book finished I'm going to take a couple or three weeks off to really crack down on Year Two. The idea is that I want to get as many chapters pre-written as possible so that when I resume posting I won't be coming up on, 'I haven't finished the newest chapter yet and I gotta post tomorrow, AAAAHHHH!'**

 **When I started this thing, I had twelve chapters written before I even posted the first one. At least three times two chapters got merged together and then I even added those two little mini chapters of six and nine point five. The last like five chapters I've been writing up until posting and I don't like doing it that way. So I'm gonna try harder to get things worked out ahead of time, that way I can tweak and revise a little more before posting too.**

 **Anyway, Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other occasional little fandom references that get thrown into my work. (Such as Harry singing that song from the Hobbit in the last chapter) I am a poor security guard and writer and I'm just playing around with these fun characters.**

 **So, without any further ado here by chapter 14 of Soul Scars.**

Soul Scars

By,

Rtnwriter

Poppy Pomfrey had seen many things in her years. Many things. Many of those had been horrific and stomach turning. The life of a healer was not meant for one with a weak constitution and she had shown herself to be very strong willed. When Harry Potter was levitated into her hospital wing, she'd felt a twinge of pain that she'd not known for some time. She learned early on to separate her feelings from her patients. The caring, unassuming, selfless child that she'd met in Harry Potter had easily stripped away that careful separation and wormed his way into her emotions.

She honestly liked the boy. His few visits and his behavior had quickly endeared him to her and what she found when she started her diagnostics had torn at her heart.

Harry James Potter, was dead.

She sank slowly into the seat beside the bed, staring at the pale body of the young man occupying it for some time. In thirty years as the healer at Hogwarts, she'd never had a student die on her watch. Not one time.

Just as she was considering how she might have failed the young man a loud cracking noise sounded from the body in front of her and she blinked and gasped loudly as a bright, glowing light emanated from his still form.

#####

Amelia looked up and smiled when someone held a cup of hot tea in front of her. Gratefully she took the cup and took a long sip.

"Thank you, Shack," she muttered and leaned back in the hard backed chair with a sigh as the early morning sunlight streamed through the windows in the Hospital Wing. On her left, her niece occupied one of the beds. Completely unharmed but unconscious, benefits of a dreamless sleep potion. To her right Hermione Granger occupied another bed, and Daphne Greengrass took up the next bed down. All three of them in equal states of deep, potion induced slumber.

"Any word yet?" he asked in his deep voice, taking up a vigil at the corner of Susan's bed. She'd been around the Auror department long enough that Susan knew most of the Aurors in the department by name, and most of them liked her a great deal. She'd become almost an unnofficial mascot of the Auror department years earlier when Amelia was still a Master Auror and before she'd taken over as head of the DMLE.

"Nothing yet. Poppy isn't really sure why the girls collapsed. The only thing she can think of is because of their connection to Harry when he got hurt that it bled over to them. Oh, probably not to the extent of copying his injuries," she added, seeing the concerned look on Kingsley's face. "But he was hurt so badly… the shock of it might have just caused them to shut down."

"But they woke up didn't they?" he asked. She grimaced and nodded. That part had happened while the big man had been away. He'd rushed through the door behind her, the black flames vanishing moments before he did to find her crouched on the ground next to a lifeless Harry Potter. Things had moved quickly after that. They'd rushed all four students to the hospital wing and as soon as they'd arrived he'd sent Shacklebolt through the Floo, back to Auror headquarters to call in an investigative team.

While he was gone, all three girls woke up at the same moment, sat bot upright in their beds, and screamed.

The very thought still chilled her and she shivered, clasping both hands tightly around her tea.

"They wouldn't stop screaming," she muttered. She glanced up at Kingsley. "They woke up, but they woke, screaming, and they wouldn't stop. Eyes wide open, just staring straight ahead and screaming until they ran out of breath. Then they'd haul in a breath and keep screaming. Poppy had to dose them all with Dreamless Sleep just to get them to stop."

Kingsley made a face at that but said nothing for a time as his boss sipped at her tea and he gazed back and forth between Susan's and Hermione's beds.

"What is it, Shack?" Amelia asked after five minutes of the strange behavior from her Senior Auror.

"Hmmm?" Kingsley turned his attention to her, slightly distracted for a moment before he suddenly shook himself. "Oh, sorry. I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Hermione Granger."

She arched one slim brow and sat up a little straighter in her seat at that as she lowered her cup until she was holding it in her lap with one hand cupped beneath the ceramic and the other still holding onto the handle.

"What about her?" she asked.

He shrugged, looking a touch confused. "I'm not entirely certain, actually. Something about the name is ringing some bells but I can't quite place where exactly…" He trailed off for a few moments before he suddenly snapped his fingers, brightening considerably as he remembered.

"Remember, about six years ago? You and I responded to an accidental magic situation in Crawley?"

Amelia thought about that for a moment. "Right. That was right after you'd moved up from Junior Auror to Auror First Class. What about it?"

"You never came in the house that night, but it was Miss Grangers house that we responded to."

Amelie blinked her mouth dropping open. "Holy shite," she breathed. "That… that's an amazing coincidence. To run into her now after so long…"

Kingsley snorted and crossed his arms over his broad chest. "No more amazing a coincidence then Susan sharing a Soul Bond with Harry Potter and two other girls," he muttered and jumped a moment later when Amelia's tea cup fell from her suddenly numb fingers to smash on the floor.

"H-how… What do you mean by that Shack?" she snarled, numb terror quickly falling away to be replaced by anger.

In her career with the Aurors Amelia had made one thing crystal clear extremely early on. She was _not_ one to fuck with, and had a glare that could intimidate the best and worst of them in equal measure. Despite that, Kingsley Shacklebolt had worked with her for too long to be affected by her ire the same way some others might, and her glare was useless against him as he straightened to his full height and glared right back at her.

"Don't you give _me_ the Bones death glare," he chided her. "How long have we worked together? Did you really think I wouldn't notice the little details? But it's just because I know you so well and I'm so close to the situation, even though I am admittedly still on the periphery, that I noticed it at all. The bond is safe, I haven't, nor would I, tell anyone."

Amelia remained tense, still glaring sternly at the tall Auror, one of the few she counted as a personal friend as well as coworker. Her monocle dug into her skin slightly as her eyes narrowed at him. She really wished that she could have applied the monocle's charms to a pair of glasses but it wasn't a good idea to have both lenses charmed in the way her monocle was. That much information would have been more distraction than useful.

He gave her a cheeky grin a moment later. "You also just told me when you talked about their connection to him," he pointed out and her eyes widened so much that her monocle fell out and dangled from it's chain pinned to the lapel of her robes.

"Shite," she swore. "I must be more tired than I thought to let something like that slip."

"Why do you think I sent Rufus back to the office?"

She nodded in thanks for that and took a deep, steadying breath.

"You understand why we've never said anything?" she asked, quietly, and Kingsley nodded.

"Of course. A Soul Bond is an amazing thing, but it's a weakness too under certain conditions. Like what happened last night. Mister Potter was hurt and all three of those girls dropped like a sack of potatoes. A bond mate can be kidnapped and used against the other side of the bond. I'll go out on a limb and assume that you didn't know it was Harry until after Susan started school?"

Amelia nodded and Kingsley hummed in the back of his throat for a moment.

"Have his guardians been arrested?" His tone was tight as he asked the question, hiding a barely held back anger and she cocked her head slightly, regarding him curiously. "I remember the scars Miss Granger had as a five-year-old," he told her. "The other side of that bond of hers was getting tortured, from what Dumbledore and I could tell, but there was no way to know who it was at the time. I know you'd never hurt Susan, and Daphne Greengrass… Cyril may be a bastard but he'd never damage his daughter like that… might reduce her potential value."

She wanted to argue that point but couldn't really think of anything with which to support her point so remained silent.

"Since none of the girls were being injured, that leaves Mister Potter as the person being attacked, and I can only guess that it was whoever was responsible for caring for him that was doing the damage. There's no way such extensive abuse could have happened otherwise. I can only hope that the moment you found out you did everything you could to get those responsible thrown in the deepest, darkest hole that you could find."

"Trust me," Amelia said, a feral grin twisting her lips. "Those responsible won't be seeing the light of day without bars between it and them for some time."

Kingsley grunted and nodded. "Good."

Before they could continue to speak, the doors to the hospital wing swung silently open and Dumbledore strode through, a shape wrapped in black cloth, floating along behind him. With a wave of his hand he directed the bundle to a bed in the furthest corner of the room and with another wave privacy screens erected themselves around the bed and he turned his attention to Amelia and Kingsley.

"Madam Bones, Auror Shacklebolt," he said, inclining his head slightly to them. "How are the girls?"

"Poppy say's there's nothing wrong with them. At least not physically," Amelia informed him, her eyes hardening to blue chips as she glared at the aged Headmaster. In the hours since she'd arrived at the school Amelia had been running around like a chicken with its head cut off, or so it had felt to her. She'd directed the investigative team that she'd called in to check over every room that they'd passed through on their way to that final chamber and after floating Harry and the girls to the hospital wing she'd immediately turned over command of the situation to Kingsley. With Susan involved, her impartiality couldn't be assured so took steps to ensure that the letter of the law was obeyed.

"Not physically, but…" Dumbledore prompted.

"They're unconscious. She doesn't understand why but as soon as she confirmed that they weren't in any danger she placed them in the beds here and has been over there with Mister Potter since," she said, pointing to another set of privacy screens half way down and on the other side of the ward. She stood and approached him, reaching into her pocket to remove the documents she'd stashed there earlier the night before. She handed them over without a word and Dumbledore gave her a questioning look before he opened the document and read through it.

As he read his mouth twitched behind his beard, slowly growing into a broad, jovial smile. "This is excellent news indeed, Amelia," he said, handing the parchment back to her. "I am sure he will be thrilled to learn of it."

"You don't even know what condition he is in," she pointed out.

"Well, let us assuage our curiosity, then." He stepped past her, leading her along the length of the hospital wing toward the erected privacy screens behind which Harry Potter lay in an unknown condition.

#####

Poppy glanced up when the privacy screens were pulled back and the Headmaster and Amelia Bones both entered, letting the screens fall back into place behind them. She was standing by the bed, continually casting every medical diagnostic charm that she could think of, even a few that probably wouldn't have told her anything useful, except under specific circumstances that he didn't fit, but she was casting them anyway.

"Poppy?" Amelia asked, looking with concern at the wild eyed mediwitch. "How's he doing?" She looked down at Harry, his face flushed and pink, chest slowly rising and falling.

Poppy's mouth worked silently for a several moments but no sound escaped her as she stared at the two of them.

"Madam Pomfrey, please," Dumbledore started as she continued to gape at them. "What ever is the problem?"

"He was dead!" she blurted out, suddenly.

Dumbledore and Amliea both started in shock, turning their eyes to the still, but very much alive and breathing form of the boy before them.

"I hesitate to ask," Dumbledore said in a low tone, "but are you quite certain? He seems very much alive to me."

That cut through her shock just enough to focus her ire on the Headmaster. "Albus Dumbledore," she snapped, "I am a trained medwitch and healer and I'll have you know that I am more than capable of telling when a person is dead."

"Then you mean that his heart stopped but you were able to revive him?" Amelia asked. "Is there any sign that there's concerns of long term damage?"

"No!" she gasped out. Poppy shook her head violently, almost dislodging her witches cap. "You don't understand. I haven't done anything yet!"

They blinked, nearly in unison. Amelia hadn't felt so confused since she woke up one morning after passing her Auror exams to realize that she wasn't in her own bed, she wasn't wearing her own clothes, and she had no idea where the kneazel with the diamond necklace around its neck had come from. The hangover that morning had been spectacular.

"Poppy, please, take a breath and explain this to us. What is wrong with Harry?" she tried.

"He's alive!" Poppy practically shouted and Dumbledore swiftly cast a few privacy charms around the bed, his wand appearing in his hand as if it had flowing into his grip. "He was dead when he was brought in here. The girls were fine, if unconscious, but when I examined Mister Potter all my tests, everything I know, told me that he was dead. His spine was broken in three places, the back of his skull was practically caved in from blunt trauma. No brain activity. No pulse. No respiration. Harry James Potter was _dead_." She bit off every word in her final sentence, enunciating each carefully and clearly to be sure she wasn't misunderstood."

"How, then," the Headmaster asked, "might you explain the fact that he is now very much alive?"

"I can't!" she shouted. "I've been sitting here, just…" she trailed off, her face twitching and mouth working up and down for a moment. "I just didn't know what to do! I didn't want to just leave him here," she added in a small voice. After a moment she shook herself, physically shaking away her troubling thoughts and focused her attention more fully on the two of them. "Right now he's presenting with a severe concussion, some muscle damage, magical exhaustion to beat the state he was in after the troll incident, and some traces of dark magic that I can't quite identify. Twenty minutes ago he was a corpse. Suddenly, he started to glow and his spine suddenly cracked back into place and healed itself. The damage to his skull was repaired as if it'd never happened and he started breathing.

"I didn't do anything other than diagnostic charms and I can't for the life of me figure out how he suddenly came back after being dead for nearly _two hours_." She sank into the chair she'd been occupying before and drew in a deep, shaky breath. "I can't begin to explain it," she said in a much calmer tone. "I don't know what is happening here, but he's alive when minutes ago I was trying to decide how I would tell those poor girls bonded to him that their lives were over. You know as well as I, if one of them dies, the others won't last long, and those last days will be filled with complete misery."

#####

Floating.

Weightless and floating in a sea of darkness.

Where?

Who?

Couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't smell, or taste, or touch. Couldn't think.

Think. Who? Think what? Think where?

"..ad!?"

Voice? Voices, more than one.

"…at do you… frey?"

"I mean… was dead."

"That's not pos…"

"NO! HE CAN'T BE!"

"Holy crap monkeys… you people are loud…"

#####

Kingsley Shacklebolt sank into the chair his boss had just vacated and heaved out a deep sigh. He'd had longer days, he reflected. More emotionally draining days, even. He didn't think he'd seen much that had stricken him to his core like the noxious cloud that had torn through the room just after Amelia rushed through the wall of black fire. He'd never seen or heard anything like it before in all his time with the Aurors.

A viscous, almost solid cloud of green and black smoke with a face embedded within it's middle. It stank of death and decay and when it rushed past him he could swear his very bones were freezing solid for the moments when he was in contact with that great evil.

"What the hell happened down there?" he muttered and leaned his head back for a moment before he shook himself and sat up in the seat. He was sitting guard duty for three of the most valuable people in the wizarding world, whether they knew it or not. He glanced at the three girls he now knew for sure were bonded to one Harry Potter, a boy seen as a hero and a symbol by much of their society. If anything happened to any one of them… well, he didn't want to think what it would mean for the other three. And from what Kingsley had heard, the Potter boy certainly knew how to get into dangerous trouble. He only hoped that Amelia would take the time to impress on him how important his health was, not to himself, but to the girls with him.

"HARRY!"

Kingsley jumped and nearly fell out of his chair when all three girls suddenly sat bolt upright in their beds as the name was practically torn from their throats, echoing loudly around the hospital wing. Two beds away from Daphne, Neville Longbottom started in his sleep and sat up, bleary eyed and looking around wildly.

"Holy…" Kingsley trailed off as the girls turned and looked at each other, Daphne quickly exiting her bed, despite his stuttered protests, to sit on the side of Susan's bed so that Hermione, in the middle, wouldn't have to look back and forth to keep either girl in sight.

"Harry!" Hermione blurted out. "Where is he? What happened?"

Susan shook her head. "I can't remember," she muttered. "Last thing I remember is feeling…" She trailed off and unbidden, tears well up in her eyes. "Oh, gods," she whispered, her voice cracking and one hand went to her chest. "He… he… he was gone. I couldn't feel him anymore. There was…"

"Agony," Daphne cut in. "Searing agony, over and over…"

"And he was so angry. Merlin, I've never felt him that angry before," Hermione whispered so quietly Kingsley almost didn't hear her.

"Right, he was angry. And he was scared, no, terrified. More terrified than he's ever been."

"And then?" Daphne asked, looking between Hermione and Susan.

They glanced at each other, then back to their blond bond mate.

"I can't remember," they said in perfect unison.

Daphne frowned and struggled to piece together her scattered memories. "He was terrified, angry, and then… cold? I felt freezing cold and something… something disgusting and vile and…" Daphne shuddered and gagged, dry heaving several times before she got herself under control, swallowing thickly. "Oh, holy shite," she muttered. "Oh gods, I can't- I can't think- I need… we need to see him. Where is he?"

Kingsley started when he suddenly realized that all three girls were staring straight at him with the most intense gazes he'd ever seen on anyone before and he leaned back in his chair, hands held up in a gesture of surrender in front of him.

"Okay, first things first, please remember that I'm one of the good guys, ladies," he started. "And I work for you Aunt," he added with a stare at Susan who seemed to explode from the bed, hair flying and eyes flashing dangerously as she glared at him.

"Kingsley, tell me where the fuck Harry is!" she shrieked as Daphne and Hermione rose from the beds and came to stand at her shoulders.

Kingsley had heard from Amelia about the Christmas dinner. He'd heard the description of Potter's eyes glowing with power. He'd even seen Dumbledore do it once back during the first war, hence why he hadn't quite believed his friend and boss when she told him that a first year kid had pulled the same move.

As all three girls eyes began to gleam with an unnatural sheen and their hair started to float about their heads as if they were submerged in water, he believed. He believed, and he knew that his life wouldn't be worth a steaming pile of hippogryph shit if he got in their way.

But he stiffened his spine, squared his shoulders, and stood from his seat so his much larger frame towered over them. Not to intimidate, but just to get his feet under him. "Wait here," he told them and strode over to the privacy screens. He didn't bother trying to get anyone's attention, since he was pretty positive that they'd put up silencing charms, at the least. It was the only way Amelia wouldn't have responded to the girls screaming.

Before he reached the screens the sound of rapid footsteps behind him reached his ears and he cursed mentally as they brushed past him and threw back the screens.

"-Long did you say he was dead again?" Dumbledore was saying as the screens were torn away.

"Where is-"

"-How is he d-"

"-hat happened to Ha-"

"SILENCE!"

The girls instantly stopped babbling, their mouths snapping shut as Dumbledore turned and roared at them in a voice that seemed to fill the entire room. Their hair suddenly dropped around their shoulders and all three of them sagged as if with a sudden feeling of exhaustion.

"Holy mother of Merlin," Daphne groaned. "That's exhausting, how does Harry do that and not just keel over right after?"

"He's a lot stronger than we are," Hermione gasped, panting heavily as she leaned against Susan for a moment before struggling to her full height, peripherally aware that Madam Pomfrey had approached and was waving her wand over the three of them.

"Sit, girls," she ordered and flicked her wand, bringing three chairs closer to the bed where they could see Harry laying beneath a thin blanket. "Sit," she snapped more firmly when they opened their mouths to protest. "Whatever caused your collapse is still an unknown and all three of you are showing signs of exhaustion so sit down before you fall down or I'll stun you all myself and strap you to a bed."

They sat.

"You said that someone was dead," Daphne spoke wearily with a fierce glare in Dumbledore's direction. "Who was dead. Is dead?"

Dumbledore sighed and glanced at Amelia who nodded once, a stern look on her face that brooked absolutely no argument. He waved his wand, letting a large overstuffed armchair spring into existence before he sank into it, looking older and more exhausted than he'd ever looked. To be honest, he felt older than he pretty much ever had. Even after his battle against Grindlewald, he hadn't felt so just completely bone weary.

"Professor Quirrell is dead. From the evidence it appears that Harry killed him," he started, ignoring the sharp hiss of three indrawn breaths. "Aside from that, it seems that when the body died, it exploded, or some sort of magical shockwave threw young Mister Potter across the room where the Stone was hidden. Madam Pomfrey?"

Poppy took a deep breath and leveled a steady gaze at the girls as she listed off the several, fatal injuries Harry had sustained. "For nearly two hours after bringing him back here there was no life in Harry's body," she said, quietly. "He was dead."

"But…" Susan closed her eyes searching desperately for the link Daphne had taught her to recognize more fully, at Harry's suggestion. She could feel him there, still a comforting presence in her mind and her eyes snapped open to take in the slow rise and fall of his chest. "But he's alive," she blurted out, her voice slightly shrill with a tinge of fear.

"Dead!?"

"What do you mean Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione demanded.

"I mean exactly what I said. Harry Potter was dead."

"That's not possible."

"NO! HE CAN'T BE!" Daphne placed a comforting arm around Susan's shoulders, the redhead's eyes never straying from their bond mates still form.

"Holy crap monkeys… you people are loud…"

They all froze as the words filled the air between them. The voice was rough, hoarse, and barely understandable. Harry hadn't even moved before speaking. If the words hadn't slipped past his lips there would have been no indication that he had regained consciousness.

As they watched, breath held in anticipation his brown furrowed as his face tightened with pain, or confusion, and those vibrant green eyes fluttered open briefly before closing tightly again. "Oh son of a motherless…" he groaned in a near whisper before his face went slack again and his breath evened out.

Pomfrey was suddenly by the bed as if she'd apparated the short distance, wand waving as Dumbledore retrieved his own wand from within his robes and joined her, adding his own diagnostic charms to the mediwtch's.

"It's okay," she said, finally, arm falling to her side with her wand held limply in hand. "He's just fallen asleep. A real, natural sleep, not a coma or anything."

She rounded on the girls, a disapproving frown on her face. "You three," she snapped. "Into bed, now."

"But we want to-"

"Mister Potter isn't going anywhere, Miss Granger," Poppy said in a warmer tone but with no less insistence. "You three need to rest if you want to be in any condition to be here for him."

Quickly she hearded the girls from their spot by the bed and got them into their own beds as she began her examinations and started serving out a measure of dreamless sleep, not that it'd managed to keep them asleep before.

"Dumbledore…" Amelia growled, trailing off dangerously. "I think I've been patient enough, and now that I know the children are all right, you and I are going to be having a long conversation with Auror Shacklebolt." She gave him a feral looking grin. "Would you like to lead the way to your office, or should we continue this at one of the Ministry interview rooms?"

#####

When next Harry opened his eyes, the girls were sitting by his bed, watching him carefully as they'd been doing for some time. It was Susan who noticed first. She was staring intently at his face when his eyelids suddenly fluttered and she sat up straighter in her seat, sure that she hadn't just imagined what she'd seen.

"Harry?" she asked, hesitantly leaning forward in her chair as Hermione and Daphne started at the sudden sound of her voice and turned their attention to their raven haired bond mate.

Nothing for several moments.

Then, his eyes flickered again, and fluttered open, giving them the briefest flash of green before scrunching shut again.

"Oh holy son of a motherless crack monkey," he groaned in a hoarse whisper. "Please… tell me someone got the number of the bus?"

Hermione started giggling, almost hysterically, relief flooding across the bond from her as Susan and Daphne blinked and exchanged a confused before before turning their attention to the bushy haired girl between them.

"It's a muggle expressions," she said, still giggling and with tears brimming in her eyes. "I'll explain it later." She stood and approached the bed, picking up a tumbler of ice cold water on her way and she sat down on the edge of the bed next to Harry as his eyes opened again and slowly focused on her. "Here, drink some water," she told him, softly, and held the glass so he could drink. After a few small sips she pulled the cup away and set it aside, picking up his glasses and sliding them carefully onto his face.

She couldn't stop herself from letting her hand caress his cheek, just slightly, as she pulled away, reassuring her with that contact that he was still there, he was still with them.

Harry smiled when her face swam into focus and she couldn't help but smile back. "Morning, Beautiful," he murmured and she flushed brightly, even as her smile grew broader.

"It's late afternoon, Harry," she told him and he twitched in the bed. It took her a moment to realize he'd tried to shrug but hadn't quite been successful.

"What happened?" he asked.

"That, is precisely what we want to know, Potter," Daphne growled. She was trilled, elated that he was okay and would recover, from what Madam Pomfrey had told them. But that didn't mean she wasn't still upset with him for what he'd pulled. "What the hell was that?" she demanded. "Taking that potion and breaking the bottle? Why break the bottle? Why rush off like that without us?"

Hermione and Susan both understood Daphne's anger. More than most, they understood. Especially since they'd been able to feel it.

"She's not really angry," Hermione assure Harry who was shrinking in on himself slightly as Daphne had ranted at him. "She's scared. You scared us, Harry, and while I disagree with her delivery," she added as she gave Daphne a severe look that did little to calm the blond's anger, "I do have to agree with her sentiment. We'd really like to know what was going through your head there, and what happened in that room."

"Can that wait a few minutes?" he asked as some of the tension left his body.

"Why?" Susan asked, curiously.

"I'm willing to bet that Madam Pomfrey is going to show up, any moment, and I'd imagine that there will be some others right behind us." His eyes had slipped closed while he spoke, trying to relax as his mind began to whirl through everything he could remember when they suddenly snapped open again. "Neville!" he practically yelled. "Neville was hurt, where is he? How's he doing?"

"I'm right here, Harry."

Harry turned his head, away from the girls where they sat on his left to find that Neville was sitting in a chair on his right, his legs stretched out in front of him on another chair with a book open on his thighs. He gave Harry a cheerful grin.

"You didn't think I'd leave you in here by yourself, did you? Even with your girls to keep you company."

Harry returned the smile but didn't try to sit up, he knew he was too weak still for that. "How are you?" he asked again. "What'd Madam Pomfrey say?"

Neville blanched a bit with a sigh but pushed up the sleeve of the dark shirt he was wearing to show a thick, ropy scar that ran across the outside of his upper arm. "Madam Pomfrey said that if she'd gotten to it quicker she could have healed it with almost no scar at all. Those keys were steeped in magic, charmed to fly and to react as semi-living creatures, sort of." He trailed off, frowning as he thought about how to describe it before he shrugged, giving it up as a lost cause. "Anyway, the wound was tainted with that magic and it was left so long that she couldn't really get rid of it. She did give me an ointment to use that'll help reduce it, considerably, she says, but it'll take time and will probably never go away entirely."

Harry stared intently at the mark on his friends skin and a rush of guilt flooded through him. "I'm sorry, Nev," he tried and Neville shook his head, waving him off.

"It's my own damn fault, Harry. I should have been paying closer attention, then I might not have ended up with such an ugly mark," he said, frowning down at the scar on his arm as he pulled his sleeve down to cover it.

The girls winced, thinking of the many scars that marked their bond mate and felt that they couldn't be angry with the Longbottom Scion, since he didn't know of the scars. His comment was insensitive at best, but he had the benefit of a lack of knowledge and the fact that they knew he didn't have a hurtful bone in his body. He would never have said anything hurtful intentionally.

Harry was just watching Neville calmly for several moments before he smirked. "Dolor temporarius, gloria aeterna, cicatrices virgines placent," he said, which caused all four of them to blink in confusion.

Hermione's face screwed up in thought and she bit her lower lip, worrying it with her teeth as she considered the phrase.

"'Dolor temporarius'. Pain is temporary," she muttered.

Harry smiled.

"'gloria aeterna'. Glory is forever," she continued and Harry's smile grew even wider.

"'cicatrices virgines placent'…" she trailed off, eyes brightening before she frowned and turned a glare onto Harry who burst out laughing when he realized she'd worked it out. "Really, Harry?" she admonished him. She'd have swatted his shoulder but she didn't want to hurt him, and it was nice to hear him laugh.

"For the rest of us, could you please explain what he said?" Daphne asked. "I was never very good with Latin."

Hermione sighed as Harry laughed even harder and sat up primly on the edge of the bed. "Pain is temporary, glory is forever,…" she trailed off again and glared at Harry before finishing, "chicks dig scars."

The three purebloods in the room blinked again, looking even more confused and Hermione sighed again as she explained. "'Chick' is a muggle slang term for young women. Basically, he's saying that the pain Neville felt is only temporary, the glory for his actions will last forever, and he might use his scar to entice or attract girls."

"Pain is temporary, glory is forever, chicks dig scars," Neville muttered, trying out the words. He was blushing brightly but seemed to summon up some of that Gryffindor courage and glanced over at Harry. "How do you say it in Latin again?" he asked with a broad grin on his face.

"Neville!" Hermione blurted out in a scandalized tone as Harry kept laughing and even Susan had started chuckling quietly as Daphne just smirked at her irate bond mate while Hermione started lecturing Harry about not corrupting his friends.

Their laughter and quiet conversation died an ignoble death moments later when a wizened voice intruded on their conversation.

"It does an old heart good to see you in such high spirits after your ordeal, my boy," Dumbledore said as he made his way over to the group, looking down with a small smile on his lips and a twinkle in his bright blue eyes at Harry.

"Do not call me boy, Sir," Harry ground out, flipping from amused to irate in an instant. "I really don't like it.

Dumbledore paused in the act of magicking himself up a chair and glanced at Harry for a moment as Hermione scrambled to move back to the chair she'd vacated and Neville dropped his feet to the floor, closing his book as he set it aside. Dumbledore created his chair and sank into it, still eyeing Harry.

"Of course, Mister Potter," he said, finally. "I apologize for any insult."

"It's not so much that it's an insult," he fired back. "But when you don't even know your own name because _someone_ left you with bigoted, abusive muggles, until you're five years old, it's difficult to not mind when people use the same form of address as the abusers. They called me 'boy' or 'freak' and it wasn't until I was in school that I learned my own damn name."

It had been months. But Harry hadn't forgotten what he'd learned at Gringotts over the Christmas break. Dumbledore had left him with the Dursleys. All his scars, all his years of suffering… he could lay responsibility, at least partially, at the old man's feet. And he was feeling less than charitable. He'd been thinking long and hard over what he wanted to do with that knowledge, and still hadn't really decided. But for now, it was enough that he'd let the old man know that he knew, and he'd let him stew in it for a while.

"Is anyone else joining us?" he asked, biting off the words angrily as the girls looked back and forth at each other, confused over Harry's anger with the Headmaster.

"Just me, Harry," Amelia Bones said as she walked over and greeted her niece and the rest of them. In minutes they were all seated and Harry was sitting up a bit in the bed with the girls help, leaning back against the railing at the head of it.

"So, what happened?" he asked when no one said anything for a few minutes.

"We were hoping you might explain that to us," Dumbledore started. "We have heard the story from your friends, a truly remarkable tale, I must say. But after you passed through the flames into the chamber with the stone, there is little, if any, information."

Harry glared at the old wizard for a few moments before sighing and beginning his tale, "I drank the potion to get through the fire," he started.

"Why did you shatter the bottle?" Hermione interrupted and then flushed and ducked her head when all eyes turned to her. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's just… I couldn't figure it out. It seemed like such an odd thing to do. There was no reason to destroy the bottle so… I just wondered why…"

"Because I didn't want any of you to follow me," Harry told her, quietly. There was pain and fear in his voice as the three of them stared at him, though his eyes held Hermione's firmly. "I was thinking about it when I saw how little there was in the bottle. Obviously, Quirrel was ahead of us, right?"

Hermione nodded, her brow furrowed in thought.

"That bottle was so tiny, there was only enough in there for one mouthful. If he was ahead of us wouldn't he have had to drink the potion too?"

"And if he had, why was there still potion in the bottle?" she breathed out stunned realization. "The bottle refilled itself after he passed through."

"That was my thought. I knew that if I left it, and if you noticed that it had refilled, you would have followed me. I promised to protect you, all three of you. If you'd followed… I couldn't promise to keep you safe. That was the only way I could think of."

All three girls glared at him, even as they felt a blooming warmth in their chests for the care and concern that he felt for them. Hesitantly, he turned back to Dumbledore and Amelia and continued his story.

As he spoke there was a mixture of reactions from his audience. Pale faces, exclamations of shock, or dismay, even a cheer when he told about how the stone appeared in his pocket. He left out the vision he saw in the mirror, the older versions of the girls and himself with a quick glance at them from the corner of his eyes as they sat in the chairs by his bed.

"When he touched me he started burning," he was saying some time later. "I don't know why but he couldn't touch my skin for some reason and, even though it hurt me, I decided I could use that."

He stopped talking at that point, fidgeting nervously under their many gazes.

"Harry?" Amelia asked, attempting to verbally nudge him to continue.

"He's nervous," Susan spoke up. "Nervous and afraid. What happened Harry?"

Harry looked down at his lap and whispered something that caused Hermione to pale but Susan and Daphne, nor anyone else had been able to hear what he said. A moment later Hermione launched herself from her chair, sprawling across Harry as she drew him into a tight hug, whispering in his ear. He pushed her, gently but firmly, away his face drawn into a pained mask.

"I killed him," he said, finally, in a louder voice. "I grabbed his face, tackled him to the ground and I sat on his chest and hit him over and over until his head caved in." He was staring at his hands as he spoke, fingers flexing and curling into fists slowly and repeatedly as he spoke. "And even when he was dead it wasn't finished," he added as he explained the conversation he'd held with Voldemort, still attached to the back of the corpses head, ending with how he'd driven his thumbs through the glowing red eyes.

"I'm not sure what happened after that. There was an explosion and I felt a sharp pain and then cold numbness, and I was waking up here."

"That is quite a tale, and an awful experience for you to have had to deal with," Dumbleodre spoke quietly as the rest simply stared at him. "However I think I can put your mind to rest over one detail. You did not kill Professor Quirrell."

Harry jerked at hearing his crime so plainly stated by someone else, even if the man was denying his actions. "I'm not the smartest person in the room, Headmaster," he drawled. "But even I know what it means to have your face caved in like a melon. I killed him. I know it."

"And what you do not know, is that the professor was already dead."

All of the kids stared at him at that. Neville and Harry with their mouths hanging open in shock while the girls all looked concerned and curious about the odd statement.

"Voldemort could only possess a wizard, as he did, with the wizards permission. Quirrell had to voluntarily offer up his body for Voldemort, and doing so killed him. There is no way that night was going to end with Quirrinus Quirrell still alive. The moment Voldemort made to leave, the Professors body would have given out. Add to the fact that he had been drinking unicorn blood in the forbidden forest and he was already living a pained, cursed life, such as it was.

"Your actions were little more than to release him from the pain and torment he was experiencing."

"He's right, Harry," Amelia cut in, speaking for the first time since Harry started. "If Voldemort possessed him while he was in Albania, then technically, Quirrell was dead before he even arrived back at school before the start of the year."

"What happened to the Stone?" he asked after a brief pause, wishing to move beyond that portion of his story.

"Alas, the stone has been destroyed."

"But… Nicholas Flamel and his wife… won't they…"

"Oh, you know about Nicholas as well?" Dumbledore asked, sounding amused "You and your friends have certainly shown yourselves to be capable investigators. I had not realized how much you had discovered of the situation."

"But without the stone the Flamel's will die," Harry insisted, ignoring Dumbledore.

"They have plenty of elixir left over to set their affairs in order, Mister Potter," Dumbledore assured him. "My old friend decided that he and his wife have been on this earth for long enough, many times longer than anyone else ever has, and so, with how dangerous the stone could be in the wrong hands, he finally made the decision to destroy it. To the well prepared mind, death is simply the next great adventure."

"That's a load of horse shit," Harry snarled, taking the entire group by surprise. "They're going to die. That's not an adventure, it's just the end."

"If that is what you choose to believe. They believe otherwise, and it is, ultimately, their decision." Dumbledore's tone was as friendly as ever, but there was a hint of steel in his voice that told Harry he was pushing his luck. He slumped down in his bed a moment later, ending the staring contest he'd been having with the old Headmaster.

"Anyway," he continued. "That was the whole story, so what happened after I passed out?"

When everyone suddenly fell suspiciously, and completely, silent, Harry's hackles rose and a tingle of apprehension shivered across his skin.

"You know," he said in a dry tone, "it's really disconcerting when you all go dead silent like that." At the word 'dead' nearly every person in the room winced. Only Dumbledore, Neville, and Harry himself kept their composure, though Harry had the idea that Neville was as confused as he was. He glanced over at his friend who noticed his look and shrugged helplessly.

"I've got nothing," Neville admitted. "They woke me up, yelling a few days ago and ran behind some screens and there were silencing charms up so I have no idea what they said."

"Okay, seriously, lay it out for me people," Harry demanded after taking a moment to shift and move on the bed starting with his neck and working his way down until he was bending and flexing his knees and ankles and even wiggling his toes. "Other than feeling as weak as a newborn I'm not doing too bad, so what's with the long faces?"

"Harry," Hermione started, pausing when he turned to look at her. She was tense and drawn, her muscles as taught as a guitar string, nerves in danger of snapping. "Harry you didn't pass out. It's been three days since we went after the stone. You went through the flames and… and we…" She trailed off and Daphne reached out and put a hand on her shoulder.

"We didn't leave, Harry," she said. "We were still there, behind the flames when Madam Bones came through behind us with Auror Shacklebolt and Auror Scrimegour. We were trying to explain what was going on when there was this horrific sound."

"It was a screeching, shrieking noise I think I'm going to remember in my nightmares for years," Susan muttered tremulously for a moment before shaking herself and staring intently at the young wizard. "We felt it," she whispered. "We felt your fear and your anger and… Merlins beard Harry, how did you deal with that much _pain._ God I've never felt that kind of pain before and with the bond we don't feel it as bad as you would."

Harry considered that for a moment the memory of the searing agony that'd threatened to tear him apart flitted through his mind and the girls flinched, Hermione letting a low moan slip past her lips before she calmed them shut and he hurriedly shoved the memory aside. Affecting a calm, indifferent tone he shrugged, "I didn't really have a lot of choice in the matter," he admitted.

"Anyway," Daphne spoke up again after everyone had taken a moment to stare incredulously at him. "Whatever happened to you when Quirrell exploded… well it cut the link."

Harry blinked, a dawning horror growing in his eyes.

"It cut the bond Harry. We couldn't feel you. We couldn't her you, or sense you in any way and we… we just shut down."

"Collapsed, like puppets with their strings cut, Harry," Amelia murmured in a gentle tone and Harry's stricken gaze swung toward her as she took up the explanation. "Kingsley and I got you all out of there as fast as we could. I threw a stasis charm on all of you since I didn't want to waste time checking you if you were badly hurt and risk delaying getting you to Poppy. I'm not very good with medical spells.

"When we got you all here Poppy checked the girls and said they were just unconscious but were physically fine. Then she went with you behind some screens and I spent the next hour organizing and setting Kingsley up with command of the investigation and then another few hours just sitting here. When Dumbledore finally got back we went to check on you and Poppy finally told us what had happened to you."

"Oh would someone just spit it out already!" he blurted out. "Seriously, the dramatics are impressive but the suspense is killing me."

Amelia winced. "Poor choice of words, Harry," she told him as the girls quietly began to cry, clutching at each other. "Apparently you were dead, according to Poppy. Dead for roughly two solid hours."

Harry blinked, his face going slack as his mouth dropped open for a moment before his eyes flicked to the girls sitting by his bed.

He blinked again and his mouth started to work up and down several times as he attempted to speak. His eyes moved to Neville, who looked about as shocked as he felt. He looked down at his body, pleased to note that he was wearing one of his long sleeved shirts and then stared at his hands, held palm up before him, curling his fingers into fists several times.

"You have got to be kidding me. I know people can be revived from death if their heart stops but only within minutes, after too much time the brain starves of oxygen, there's no way I could have been… could have…" he trailed off as a rising panic started to grow in his chest. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he suddenly snapped. If he'd been well, if he'd been healthy and rested his eyes would have been glowing dangerously. But as weak and drained as he still was all he could muster was a heated glare that swept across the adults in the room.

Daphne and Susan moved to sit on the edge of his bed again on his left, Susan taking his left hand in hers as Daphne placed her right on the back of his neck. Hermione moved around the bed, sitting on his right side as she tok his other hand and their combined touch slowly calmed him down, bringing him to some semblance of equilibrium.

"We don't have any kind of explanation, Harry," Amelia said, sure that she was the only one who would be able to speak to him at that time. He was pissed at Dumbledore, why she couldn't say, but it was obvious enough that he was. "When Poppy examined you, your spine was broken in multiple places and the back of your head was caved in from when you hit the wall. There's no way that, even a wizard, could survive those kinds of injuries.

"When we came behind the screens, she was casting every diagnostic charm she could think of at you and you were alive and breathing. Said you'd started glowing about twenty minutes before we came in and your spine snapped back together as your head healed. You were still injured, and suffering from your worst magical exhaustion yet, but you were alive."

"At the moment, we have no idea how or why it happened. Poppy is doing everything she can to look into it, but I fear we may never truly understand. Suffice it to say you are an extremely lucky young man, and perhaps, this might see you taking a bit more care in the future with your health."

Harry glared at Dumbledore. "What are you talking about now?" he snapped.

"When you… were injured," the old wizard said, "your ladies were cut down by their separation from your bond. Worse than before when you cut off the link by choice. In this case you were truly dead, if just for a time. You forget, Harry, that you are bonded to these girls, and they to you. I understand your willingness to throw yourself into the defense of others, and I can appreciate that mode of thought. But you have to keep in mind that your health, your life, is tied to theirs. Should you die, truly die without reawakening… well.. There has never been a bonded couple that has survived long once one of them passes on."

Harry had paled significantly as Dumbledore spoke and his hands tightened convulsively around Hermione's and Susan's. "So if I die…"

"They will likely not be long for this world after that." Dumbledores voice was a quiet rumble, heavy with emotion Harry found himself unable to identify. "And what days they would have, would likely be spent in abject misery. Please… try to keep that in mind, in the future."

He stood and vanished his chair.

"Thank you, Harry, for explaining what happened. I'm sure there will be more for us to discuss in the future, but I believe that is plenty for now. Poppy will likely be by soon to kick us out and after your ordeal I am sure you still need to rest. We will talk again, if you wish, before you leave for the Summer."

"Why me?" Harry blurted out as Dumbledore made to turn away.

"I am not certain I understand the question, Mister Potter."

"When Voldemort talked to me… he said that my mother didn't have to die. He only killed her because she wouldn't stop trying to protect me. So, when he came to the house that night, he wasn't after my parents. He was after me. Me, a fifteen month old baby. He came there specifically to kill _me_. Why?"

Dumbledore's eyes were closed, a pained grimace on his face before he let out a long sigh and opened his eyes again, fixing Harry with a piercing stare. "That, is one question I cannot quite answer. Not yet."

Dumbledore held up a hand to hold them off as nearly every mouth opened to protest, many with angry glares directed in his direction. "Not yet. But I will, I do promise you that. You have been through an ordeal, Harry. Heal, rest, recover. We will discuss this another time. But I refuse to burden you further today."

Before anyone could question him further he swept from the room, leaving them to stew in their frustration. After several long minutes Amelia cleared her throat and reached into her robes to retrieve a folded piece of parchment that she then held gently in her hands.

"Don't worry about Dumbledore right now, Harry," she told him. "I've spent the last several days giving him more than a piece of my mind and he's in more trouble than I think he even realizes at the moment. His actions this year have been highly suspect and I promise you, I am looking into it. In the meantime I do have some good news for you."

"Good news would be nice," he sighed and leaned back further against the bed and the pillows piled behind him. His body was beginning to ache and fatigue was growing more and more with every passing minute.

"Your Uncle has been arrested."

His head snapped up, eyes wide as his body tensed with nervous excitement. Relief and elation filled him but he strained to temper it, to hold it back, waiting, as always, for the other shoe to drop.

"And what, exactly, does that mean?"

"They're still investigating everything. Your aunt's and cousin's involvement is still somewhat unclear at the moment. But with his arrest, you are not being made to return to your aunt's home. What I have here," she added, holding up the parchment. "Is an application for me to become your temporary guardian while the case is still open. Vernon's trial is in two weeks, depending on the outcome of the case, which seems pretty cut and dry, you'll be placed with a new family. Well, you'll receive offers from families to take you in. Some may want to adopt you, some may just be willing to take over as your legal guardian and take care of you until you're of age. It will also be entirely your choice which offer you accept at that point. But for now… if you want, all you have to do is sign this letter and I'll go file it and when you get to Kings Cross at the end of the year you'll come home with Susan and me."

Before Amelia had even finished her last sentence Susan had leapt from the bed, run around and practically flew into her aunt's arms squealing happily and squeezing the life out of the older witch. Neville, Hermione, and Daphne were all expressing their joy over the announcement loudly enough that at any other time Madam Pomfrey would have come down on them like the wrath of the gods, but Amelia had told her ahead of time what she was going to announce. The Mediwitch only glanced up from her parchment work where she sat in her office when she heard the raised voices echoing off the walls of her domain, a small smile on her lips.

One they'd all managed to calm themselves down, Harry hadn't moved. He was just staring at Amelia, hope naked on his face. It was at once amazing and soul crushing to see. He wanted it, she could see it in his eyes, in his expression, but some small part of him still couldn't quite believe it. Gently pushing her niece away from her, she rose and moved over to sit on the bed as Hermione moved away to make room for her, taking Harry's hand in her own.

"I mean it, Harry. No tricks. No one is going to yank the carpet out from under you. No one is going to knock you down. This is real. But only if you want it. You sign this parchment, and I'll file it first thing in the morning."

Slowly, almost hesitantly, she reached for him, ignoring how wet his eyes appeared, and how his lower lip trembled, just slightly. When her hands reached his shoulders he stiffened completely, but offered absolutely no resistance when she pulled him forward and into her arms. Amelia held him as he pressed his face into her shoulder and a tremor ran through his body. He sucked in a sharp breath and for several minutes he simply breathed, shoulders shaking silently as his arms came up and wrapped tightly around her back, fingers clutching at her robes.

When he pulled back he wiped fiercely at his face for a moment but the girls and Neville were all looking away from them and a rush of gratitude flowed across the bond to the girls who all smiled calmly as his feelings filled them. Amelia quirked a brow at him and held up the parchment. An enormous grin broke out on his face and he nodded, unable to find the words and unwilling to trust his voice. A quill and ink were quickly supplied, and with a trembling hand he scrawled his name on the lines where Amelia told him to sign. As soon as he finished the parchment glowed briefly and she folded it back up and tucked it into her robes.

"That's it," she said. "You're staying with us until this is all settled. We'll handle what comes next after that. And you two," she added, turning to glance back and forth between Hermione and Daphne. Hermione had made her way back to the chairs where she and Daphne sat together, sad smiles on both their faces. "You both have Floo access and a standing invitation. You don't have to call ahead. You don't have to let us know you're coming. Any time either of you want to come over, just do it. I've already adjusted the wards at the Boneyard. You have full access to come and go as you please any time you want."

"Thank you, Madam Bones," they said in unison, broad grins spreading across their faces until Amelia frowned at them.

"That won't do," she muttered. "I insist that you call me Amelia, or even Aunt Amy, if you'd prefer."

They smiled brightly and nodded. "Thank you, Amelia."

#####

Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk, his brow furrowed in thought. In one hand he held one of his prized sherbet lemons, forgotten in the action of passing it into his mouth. The year had not gone at all according to plan. Such careful plans, designed over years of painstaking thought and work.

The traps had been set, the bait planted. He'd been _right_. Voldemort still existed, maybe not exactly alive, but he wasn't dead, either. He was still out there. The Stone had been the perfect chance to capture the wandering spirit and perhaps bypass that damn prophecy. But he hadn't accounted for one Harry James Potter and his bonded ladies.

The display the girls had put on when they'd parted behind the privacy screens, demanding to see Harry. The power rolling off of them. It was obvious the four of them would become a true power in the world as they aged. He'd heard of the displays of power from Harry himself. The boy worried him in many ways, and in others, there were signs that his worries could be unfounded. He'd been upset, despondent over the thought that he'd killed Professor Quirrell. But that hadn't stopped him from attacking the man in a full fury with ever intention of ending him.

Was Harry on the path to darkness? He'd willingly attempted to take the mans life. He'd attacked with a single minded violence that disturbed the aged wizard. But his worry, his remorse afterwards…

Dumbledore sighed and finished his previously forgotten action, popping the candy into his mouth and he leaned back in his chair, folding his hands on his chest as he sucked on his treat and thought long and hard over the conundrum that was Harry James Potter.

"One must die at the hand of the other," he muttered. "For neither can live while the other survives."

#####

Harry stared out the window, practically vibrating in his seat. The last week at school had been interesting, to say the least. He hadn't spoken to Dumbledore again, only seeing the man at the leaving feast hours after Madam Pomfrey had finally seen fit to release him from the hospital wing.

Every day that he'd been there the girls and Neville had come by to see him. They'd spent hours playing games, talking, reading, and otherwise just spending time together. Neville had even taken to wearing short sleeved shirts that allowed the lower part of the scar on his arm to be visible when he walked around the school. The Longbottom Scion walked with a new confidence and strength, his head held high.

"Why did you tell Neville that?" Susan had asked the day after their conversation with the Headmaster.

"Tell him what?"

"About his scar? That phrase you said." Susan had appeared conflicted. "I only ask because… well… you hide your scars, Harry," she said, laying a gentle hand on his arm. He could feel that she was worried. Probably concerned she would upset him. "I'm just confused and I was wondering. It's not something that you seem to feel yourself."

"There's a difference between my scars and his," he'd said, a sad look on his face but he took her hand in his, reassuring her that he wasn't upset with her for asking even as Daphne and Hermione listened intently to their discussion. "He earned his scar because he fought. He did the right thing, he stood up when it counted, and he found the courage he needed to act. My scars…" he glanced down at his hidden left forearm. "My scars are because I was weak. My scars are because I couldn't fight back, I couldn't defend myself, I couldn't stop what was happening. His is a mark of pride for what he accomplished. Mine are badges of my failure."

They'd seemed to disagree with his assessment, but hadn't been willing to press him on the matter, something for which he'd been extremely grateful.

At the leaving feast there had been a last minute change of decorations when Dumbledore decided to dole out house points to him, his girls, and to Neville, something that Harry had felt to be in extremely poor taste. The rumors were flying around the castle, and while none of them had come close to the truth, many did get the basics that Harry and his friends had gone and done something outrageous and stupid and they were being rewarded for it.

By far, Harry's favorite part of the week had been two days after he woke when he'd heard a clearing of a throat near his bed and looked up to find Professor McGonagall standing there, regarding him carefully.

"I wish, once again, to apologize," she'd said. "I did not dismiss you when you tried to tell me what was happening. But at the same time, I did not give it the full consideration that it required and I cannot begin to express my dismay over, once again, not living up to my responsibilities."

"It's okay, Professor," he'd told her. "You're right, you didn't dismiss us. Not entirely. You did say you would look into it, and I'm sure you meant that. I'd love to continue our discussions once school starts up again next year."

Her lips quirked into a small smile and she'd given him a small nod before wishing him a speedy recovery and made her way out of the Hospital Wing.

"Are you looking forward to the Summer, Harry?"

He turned away from the window, dropping out of his thoughts and back into the present to look into a warm pair of cinnamon eyes. He couldn't have wiped the broad smile from his face if he'd wanted to.

"I can't even begin to describe how much, Hermione," he told her.

She nodded and smiled as well, one hand going to her chest. "I can feel just how much, Harry," she reminded him. Harry, the girls, and Neville spent the rest of the trip in cheerful conversation with Tracey Davis, Hannah Abbot, and even Blaise Zabini popping in and out of their compartment during the course of the trip. Laughter filled the compartment around them and when they arrived at Kings Cross it was a tired but happy group of students that exited the train and collected their trunks.

Harry insisted on piling his and Susan's onto the same trolley and pushed it across the platform toward the barrier where they found Susan's aunt, Hermione's parents, and Daphne's mother waiting for them. Harry had been pleased to see that Cyril Greengrass had not arrived to pick up his daughter.

They said good bye and Harry willingly pulled Hermione and Daphne into a hug which seemed to thrill the girls. Eventually however they had to leave, each promising to come visit soon. Daphne and her mother vanished with a quiet crack of apparition while Hermione and her parents made their way through the barrier into the station proper. Neville and his Gran made their way to the Floo that had been repaired since Harry destroyed it over the Christmas Holidays and, with everyone else gone, Amelia Bones turned and favored Harry and Susan with a broad smile.

"Well?" she said. "Let's go home."

 **So Ends Part One of**

 **Soul Scars**

 **Next:**

 **Part Two.**

 **Soul Scars:**

 **Darkness Within**


	16. Part Two: Normal

**AUTHORS NOTE: The Rotten Writer returns, Gang. Many apologies for the delay, especially since it wasn't nearly as productive as I'd wished. Alas, life intervenes, as it will, and I haven't gotten nearly as much pre-written as I really wanted to, but, the show must go on and all that jazz, so here we are.**

 **This little chapter marks the beginning of Part Two of Soul Scars and our foray into our intrepid hero's second year at Hogwarts School of Chaos and Misery- I mean Witchcraft and Wizardry… of course.**

 **As you guys know, at the end of the last chapter, Harry is now the temporary ward of Madam Amelia Bones so there's going to be changes ahead that I hadn't originally intended. And aside from life getting in the way a lot of the delay here has come about from a rethinking of some of my story points. So with Second Year, look for things to start taking a bigger shift away from the original canon material. The really major points will still be pretty close, but I'm moving things further into my AU that I've got going here and I'm hoping to present an entertaining story.**

 **Disclaimer: I still own nothing Harry Potter related, not even any licensed merchandise save the books themselves.**

 **So here we go with a quick little chapter to wet our whistles before we dive into the meat and grit of Year Two at Hogwarts I present to you Chapter 15 of Souls Scars**

 **Soul Scars Part Two**

 **Darkness Within**

 **By,**

 **Rtnwriter**

In the Ministry of Magic, there exist many departments, each dealing with a portion of Wizarding society. None of them are more shrouded in secrecy than the Department of Mysteries, hidden deep within the ministry itself. In the early hours of the morning, there was no one present throughout much of the Ministry, and thus, there was no one to notice the tree on the wall of a certain room.

Hardly anyone ever entered that room. It was a room where the Unspeakables studied some of the most potent, most powerful magics that existed anywhere in the world. And in that room there was a chart, like a family tree that spread across one entire wall. Dozens of feet high and more wide it listed every living which or wizard in Great Britain. Lines connected various names. Lines that indicated parents, siblings, spouses, and potential soul mates.

Parents and siblings were connected by a simple, black dotted line to indicate the familial relationship between them. Spouses were connected by a solid red line to show they were married and their marriage was recognized by both Wizarding law and by magic itself.

Soul mates were connected by a gleaming silver dotted line until they met and if they ever entered into a relationship then those lines would become solid.

There were only a handful of solid silver lines on the entire wall.

On the night of November 1st, 1981, the name Harry James Potter flashed once, twice, a third time, and from his name three silver dotted lines extended outward. When the lines reached the names of three young witches all four names flashed again and the simple dotted lines grew and thickened into a solid unbroken silver bar connecting their names together.

A moment later they flashed again, the brilliance of the light bathing the entire room in a soothing glow before fading away, leaving three gleaming golden lines connecting the four names together. Slowly, silver dotted lines extended out as all the names on the wall shifted and moved, creating a clear space for the four names to occupy.

Each witch was connected to the name Harry Potter by the gleaming golden lines. Each witch was also connected to the others with simple dotted silver lines.

For years, the room became quiet and still once again, only changing when a new witch or wizard was born or married. Small shifts. Small changes in the tapestry of the living Wizarding world.

In the middle of the evening of September 1st, 1991 there was another large shift on the family tree of Wizarding Britain. The name Harry James Potter flashed brightly, once, twice, a third time. The names of three witches, Hermione Jean Granger, Susan Amelia Bones, and Daphne Annabelle Greengrass flared with light, bathing the room in a soothing radiance before it dimmed.

Each witch was connected to the name Harry Potter by gleaming golden lines, and suddenly, each witch was connected to the others by a solid golden line connecting all four in equal measure.

In early June of 1992, the door to that room was slowly opened for the first time in nearly twenty years.

#####

Director Croaker sped quickly through the subterranean halls of the Ministry of Magic. The missive he'd received had been unbelievable, even for one in his position as Director of the Department of Mysteries. It couldn't really be possible, could it? How had no one noticed until now? How long ago had it happened?

That was a stupid thought, he admonished himself, it was obvious when at least part of it happened. Halloween, 1981.

As he walked, his dark, completely obscuring cloak keeping any hint of his appearance hidden, he saw others from his department dotting the halls. Even amongst the Unspeakables, those who dealt regularly with the greatest mysteries of the universe, the discovery held great potential, and drew many curious stares. He wished his people were above the usual rubbernecking and general curiosity that found many people poking their nose into things that were none of their business, but, then again, if his people weren't frightfully curious, they would never have become Unspeakables.

"Sable," he barked, the charms on his robes distorting and obscuring his voice as he approached the Unspeakable guarding the door. "Tell me this isn't a joke." He came to a stop next to his old partner and waved the piece of parchment that he still held in one tightly clenched fist.

"Not at all, Director Croaker. I discovered it myself earlier this evening." Without another word Sable pushed open the door and waved for the Director to precede them. Croaker had no idea if Sable was male or female, even after twenty years of acquaintance, no one knew who was an Unspeakable, not even the other Unspeakables. Croaker did have a series of files with the full identities of each of his operatives, but he only ever checked on a specific operative if it became necessary for some reason or another.

He'd only had to check twice in the last ten years.

Croaker swept through the door and turned immediately to the large chart on the wall. What he was looking for was easily identifiable as the only spot of gold in the entire chart amongst a web of red and black solid and dotted lines mixed with splashes of silver here and there.

"Take down those names," he ordered immediately. "Get Scimitar, Jimpul, and Kukri to gather their teams. I want those three names under deep surveillance right now."

"What about Potter?" Sable asked as three tiny motes of light left his wand and sped away.

"Unless I miss my guess, he'll be with one or all of these girls at nearly all times. If he separates from them out in the open have one member of each team split off and coordinate surveillance on subject Potter." Croaker paused studying the gleaming lines for several long moments.

"When was the last time there was an active Soul Bond?" he asked, suddenly.

"Not for several centuries," Sable responded without hesitation. "I haven't yet discovered the last confirmed case in the archives to give you a more accurate time frame."

"First confirmed Soul Bond in centuries," Croaker mused. "And the first ever case of a multiple relationship. Four of them in one bond, that is… extraordinary." He spun and left the room with Sable right behind him. As the door swung shut two Unspeakables melted our of the shadows and took up a post on either side of the door.

"I want someone checking that room every hour on the hour until I say otherwise. Get those surveillance teams in place and I want reports daily, more if something unusual happens."

"Unusual?"

Croaker smiled even though he knew it wouldn't be visible to his companion. "Trust me, they'll know if they see it."

"What about when the targets return to school? They're just beginning the summer break right now."

"We'll figure it out when the time comes, though I doubt that we'll be discontinuing our observation. For the purposes of the report… Potter is designated White King, Granger is designated White Queen, Bones is designated White Bishop, and Greengrass is designated White Rook."

He pushed open the door to his office and settled himself at his desk.

"Any designations for others in their presence?"

"Not at present- wait… Amelia Bones… designate her Red Queen and Cyril Greengrass…. Black Rook."

Sable showed no reaction but Croaker could tell his old friend was startled.

"Black? You feel Lord Greengrass is possibly an enemy of the Potter boy?"

"Cyril Greengrass is darker than most people know and he's worked very hard to keep those in the know to a minimum. I've no idea how he'll take this information if he doesn't already know but until we know more I'm not going to assume he's on Potter's side. You know what's in the Hall as well as I do."

Sable nodded, the shifting hood of the figure's cloak the only indication of the motion.

"Are we only observing the subjects, Director?" Sable asked. "If they appear to be in any imminent danger are we to intervene?"

Croaker considered that for a moment. "With the bond as it is… if one of them is in mortal peril then all of them are…" he trailed off for a moment in thought before leaning forward in his seat. "Observation only unless or until they are truly in severe danger that they don't seem capable of solving themselves. I'll leave that decision up to the individual teams but I'll expect a complete report on any incidents and pensieve memories will be taken for any situations that the teams directly involve themselves in. Also, in the event that intervention is necessary the teams are to still do everything in their power to remain invisible to the subjects, particularly subject White King.

"And get someone down to Hogwarts. I want a full report of everything that happened there this past year. My contact in the school has sent some… unusual missives. One of those claimed that the Potter boy actually died about a week before the end of the year. For nearly two hours before spontaneously reviving. I want this confirmed or proven inaccurate one way or the other. Have the investigator start with Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing, they are to avoid all contact with subject Whiskers."

"Understood Director."

"Dismissed."

Sable stood and left the office without a word and Director Croaker leaned back in his seat, staring blankly ahead as his mind whirled. Looked like life was going to get severely interesting in Wizarding Britain.

Croaker couldn't decide if he was excited and curious about the chaos he knew was on the horizon, or if he was terrified.

#####

Harry Potter was eleven-years-old, soon to be twelve. For ten years of his life he had lived a miserable existence in the home of his relatives. His aunt, his mothers sister, along with her husband and son had made those ten years as difficult and painful for him as they could possibly manage.

His body bore the marks of their efforts to stamp out anything that they'd deemed 'not normal'. Scars. Dozens of them covered his torso, front and back, his arms, and even his legs. Harry knew scars. He was very familiar with scars. Especially the one that stood out on his forehead. That scar… that scar was a mark that made him an extremely famous individual.

Harry Potter's relatives had been right about one thing, though. Harry wasn't normal. He was a wizard. More than that, he was one of the most famous wizards alive. Known as the Boy-Who-Lived for his defeat of the Dark Wizard Voldemort when he was still just a baby. It was the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, the souvenir of that night, that made him so famous for his survival, where, throughout history, every other person subjected to that terrible curse had all died without fail. Only he had ever survived it, and not one person knew why.

At the moment, it was July 30th, 1992, and Harry was crouched behind a low stone wall. His heart pounded in his chest as the blood rushed through his veins. He struggled, strained to quiet his ragged breathing as he peeked over the wall in search of the enemy. A glance across the lawn showed a figure lying in the glaring sunlight, wild brown hair strewn around her head.

She wasn't moving.

His eyes flicked to the left and he found a splash of red on the deep green of the grass.

 _Dammit,_ he thought. _Susan and Hermione… where is Daphne?_

He ducked down as a bright flash of color flew past his head and impacted a tree behind him and he scurried along the length of the wall, cursing under his breath. He slid around the corner and sprinted across the grass toward the relative safety of the building beyond.

The moment before he passed the space in between Hermione's and Susan's still forms, they both exploded into motion, rising up to their knees and firing on him.

"Holy crap, that's cold!"

He stopped and glared at Hermione and Susan who were both rolling on the ground, laughing, as water, cooled to just above freezing, dripped from his hair and clothes.

"You two are supposed to be on my side," he complained. "What the heck was that?"

"The rest of us were getting tired of not being able to hit you, Potter," a voice drawled from behind him and he turned to find the rest of the group all standing on the patio behind Bones Manor. Tracey Davis, the one who'd spoken, had a smug smirk on her lips as she hefted a brightly colored water balloon in one hand. Neville Longbottom was giving him an apologetic look, but still held two balloons of his own. Hannah Abbot and Daphne Greengrass both smiled brightly while the Weasley twins grinned maliciously.

Despite them turning on him, Harry was inordinately pleased. A water balloon fight with his friends during the summer holiday. He'd never felt more like a normal kid in his entire life.

He sighed and held his hands out to his sides, dropping the balloons he'd been holding. "All right," he said. "I surrender."

"Get him!"

"COOOLLLLLLD!"

#####

"It was a really fun day," Harry said, a broad grin on his face that he hadn't been able to shake all day. "Neville came over to the Boneyard for a birthday party that we put together for him. A bunch of us from school just played games and ate junk food, and basically had fun all day."

"That's great, Harry," Healer Gant told him, grinning in response to Harry's exuberant glee.

"Of course, the girls had to pull a fast one. I helped plan the party for Neville, but they decided to make it a double party for Neville and me since my birthday is tomorrow."

"And you don't mind not having a party of your own?"

Harry shook his head and took a sip from a bottle of butter beer that he held loosely in one hand. They were in the sitting room downstairs, hours after the party had broken up and their friends had all returned home. Daphne and Hermione were staying the night since they planned to have a minor celebration the next day in honor of Harry's twelfth birthday.

"Nah," he said. "I've never had a party of my own before so I don't mind. And honestly, to have two different parties one right after another is a bit much. That's a lot of work and it's easier just to get everyone together for one day. Besides, I like Neville. He's a good guy and a good friend. I'm pretty happy to share a party with him. And the girls were saying we could switch it up, like next year we'll hold a joint party on my actual birthday for Nev and I and just switch back and forth." He shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know, I kind of like that. Neville really has been a great friend and I like sharing something like that with him."

Gant smiled again and glanced over his notes.

"All right. I know I've been out of town for a few weeks. Last time we met was just after school let out, so why don't we go over what's been happening since then?"

Harry shrugged and leaned forward in his seat to set his empty bottle on the table between them.

"What'd you want to know?"

"Well, wasn't your uncles trial set for the week after you got back?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"What was the result?"

"He was found guilty. I wasn't there. With the evidence they'd put together Amelia said I didn't have to be there and I have no idea how long he was sentenced for but she promised me that there was no way in hell that I would ever have to deal with him again."

"I probably shouldn't be, as it's likely not very professional of me, but I'm pretty pleased to hear that myself," Gant admitted.

"Yeah, you should have seen how excited the girls were. I thought my ears were going to start bleeding when all three of them started squealing," Harry said with a quiet laugh. "Even Daphne, _that_ was a huge surprise. I don't think I've ever seen her like that."

"What about your aunt and cousin?"

Harry frowned at that. "Meh, the officers decided that, since Dudley is a minor they couldn't really charge him with anything, but the judge did say that the muggle child services would be dropping in to check on him and my aunt from time to time and they expected to see improved behavior from him. Aunt Petunia was declared as being in fear for herself and her son in regards to Vernon's temper and rages. She didn't really do anything to stop him, but she never actually hit me herself or anything."

He fell silent, a pensive expression on his face. He still didn't like talking about his past, and even though this particular topic just really skirted to edges of that subject, it was still too close for comfort.

Gant made a humming sound, neither positive or negative, just acknowledging that he'd heard what Harry said.

"Speaking of your relatives, and what they did. You made your appointment at Saint Mungos a couple weeks ago, right?"

Harry made a face at that that almost had the healer snort out a laugh.

"Yeah," he grumbled. "They made me stay for three days. The potions tasted worse than the ones Madam Pomfrey gives and I hurt like mad for a week after too."

"Well you did have a couple of dozen bone fractures and breaks that hadn't healed right. So they vanished the bones and just regrew them entirely. You've grown a lot in the last year, Kid, and while that's all good for you, those bones weren't doing you any favors. You'll be much healthier now."

"Doesn't make that Skelegrow crud taste any better," Harry grumbled but he _was_ internally pleased about the visit. At least he wasn't likely to be the shortest person in his year anymore. He'd briefly had visions of arriving at school for the next year and finding himself to still be shorter than some of the new first years, but luckily that didn't appear to be a concern anymore.

"So what else has been going on?" Gant asked, drawing Harry out of his musings.

"Well, Amelia is still only a temporary guardian, at the moment. She's been working with Child Services because they need to put together an announcement. It's delicate though, so I'm told."

"How so?"

Harry shrugged. "They've got to put together a believable story. Amelia was explaining to me that the Ministry refuses to allow things like Orphanages in the wizarding world. Instead they put together a packet that goes out to families all over and even a piece in various news papers. The idea being that they want a magical family to take over the care and raising of a magical child."

"Well, that makes a degree of sense, to be honest."

"It does. The delicate part becomes where they need to figure out a way to put together a story that explains that I'm in need of a new legal guardian but somehow without making it obvious that the reason is because my relatives were abusive. Amelia says that if that comes out it'll just add ammunition to the pureblood supremacists in their agenda against muggles and muggleborn."

Gant winced. "Yeah, I hadn't considered that, but she's right. There are any number of people out there that would gladly try to take advantage of the fact that the Boy-Who-Lived was basically tortured by his muggle relatives." He eyed Harry carefully. "You seem to be taking all this very well," he added and Harry shrugged.

"It's been a good summer," he said. "I don't know… I'm just feeling better than I have in a really long time. I've been having fun. Amelia and Susan have really made me feel at home here over the last month. And Hermione and Daphne come over almost every day to work on our summer homework together and just spend time hanging out. We're going to all go to a muggle movie theater next week since Daphne and I have never been and she's never even heard of films before Hermione and Susan brought them up so it should be a lot of fun. I honestly can't say when my life has ever been so good as it feels right now."

"Any concerns going forward?"

Harry hesitated slightly and tugged at the hem of his shirt.

"Harry?"

He sighed and leaned back in his seat. "It's stupid," he muttered.

"If it's bothering you, then it isn't stupid. It might be wrong, or unfounded, but never stupid. Why don't we talk it over and we'll see if maybe I can give you some perspective?"

"I'm worried," Harry finally admitted after several more minutes of fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"What about?"

"The announcement. The whole 'let's put Harry Potter on the open market for adoption' thing."

"What worries you about it? It seems like it'd be a good opportunity for you."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know," he muttered. "I just don't like being the center of attention."

"You're famous kid, there's not really much chance for you to avoid that, as much as you might dislike it."

"I know," he grumbled and slumped down in his seat.

Gant nodded, chuckling lightly. "Yeah, I can only imagine how frustrating it's got to be, but one thing you might consider?" he added, catching Harry's attention. "In the future, you might find yourself in a position where you can use that fame to your advantage. You might not like it, but it could come in handy."

Harry snorted derisively. "Can't imagine how, but I'll take your word for it."

Gant checked his watch. "Been a little over two hours Harry, and I gotta say, I'm pleased with your progress. I wanted to take some time to go over what happened at Hogwarts before you left but we did discuss it last time. No more nightmares or anything?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "No I've been sleeping okay, actually.."

Gant eyed him for a moment before giving a short nod. "All right, then. Why don't you head out and find something fun to do, I need to talk to Amelia for a moment."

Harry nodded and practically leapt to his feet. "All right, Thank you, Healer Gant, and I'll see you next week."

After Harry left, Gant sat and waited, staring off into space until the door opened and Amelia Bones entered the room, taking her place in the seat Harry had just left.

"Well?" she asked after several long moments of silence.

"You were right," he admitted with a deep sigh, considering the cheerful, happy kid he'd just spent two hours talking to. "He's a complete and utter mess." He fought the urge to sigh again and just sank back into his seat.

"I thought so," she muttered, frowning. "He just… he seemed too happy, too upbeat. After everything he went through at the end of last year and with his uncle's trial a few weeks ago and everything… it just struck me as strange that he was so…" she trailed off, waving one hand in a vague gesture.

"I see what you mean, and I agree. I can't say for sure, but this situation, his placement here with you and Susan… that's got to be hard for him. As much as he wants it, as much as he's sure to appreciate what you've given him here… I've seen it before. These kids they try to reinvent themselves, try and conform to some preconceived notion of what they need to do to make you happy with them.

"I think, and this is only a guess, but I think the way he's acting, being so happy and cheerful, I think he's trying to keep from annoying or worrying anybody. He's probably worried you'll decide he's too much hassle or work to deal with and chuck him back to the system, or worse, send him to his aunt."

Amelia almost looked outraged for a moment before settling on morose. "I would never do that," she said. "He's a good kid, and he deserves a good home and people to care about him."

Gant observed her for a moment as she appeared to get lost in her own thoughts. It was a side of Amelia Bones that few people ever got to see. Most only knew her as the hard ass Auror and head of the DMLE. Few ever got to see the caring mother that lurked beneath the surface of her hard edged exterior.

"Maybe you should discuss that with him?" he suggested. "I know that, earlier in the month, we decided to let him work through some things on his own. He needs help, yes, but we can't hold his hand all his life either, he's got to learn to work through some of these issues and concerns and deal with them on his own. But I think it might be time to go ahead and give him a little nudge in the right direction. Let him know that, even if he's not perfect or makes mistakes, you're not going to abandon him."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I think we'll do that." He quirked a brow at her but she didn't noticed as she stared off into space, chewing on her lower lip for a moment. "I thought I had this down, ya know?" she said, suddenly. "After raising Susan, and seeing the wonderful girl she's become… I really thought I had this whole parenting/guardian thing in the bag."

Gant snorted a small laugh and nodded. "Harry comes with a unique set of challenges for any parent or guardian. You're not doing anything wrong, as far as I can tell. The first night here you made sure to give him his own room, his own personal space. You gave him general rules to work within and a specific expectation of acceptable and unacceptable behavior as well as explanations as to _why_ those things are that way. No one is faulting you or blaming you here. If anything, Harry holds more blame for not talking to you about his concerns, but at the same time it's what he's been conditioned to do. It'll take time for him to adjust."

"I don't want to hover," she said. "I've never been a broomstick parent so I've been trying to give him his space and let him come into his own."

"And that's a good thing. The challenge with kids like Harry, though, is knowing when to give them that space and when it's time to step in, or even to take over entirely. I don't think the take over entirely option will ever really work well with Harry, though, he's got far too strong an independent streak, even if it was created out of trauma. But, knowing when to offer a shoulder, or an ear, or a hand… that's where you'll need to learn to shine, Amy. And if anyone can do it, I have every bit of faith in you and the girls to help him get to where he needs to be.

"He's already leaps and bounds ahead of where he was last Christmas, but he's still got a long road ahead of him. Harry has a lot of things that he needs to unlearn, and even more things that he needs to learn to accept. He puts a lot of blame on himself and expects better of himself with few expectations of those around him. He'll need to work on that, and many other things, but I think he's in a good place here to get that."

They fell into an easy silence for a time while he let Amelia consider that before he spoke again. "Any idea when you plan on talking to him?" he asked.

"Not tomorrow. Probably it would be best if I sat down with him the next morning before breakfast. We can sit and have a cup and chat." She smiled as she thought of the several times the two of them had already done exactly that, starting with the very first morning he spent at the Boneyard the previous year. It had become something of a tradition for them to spend their mornings with a cup of tea for her and coffee for Harry as they discussed small things.

They'd talked about his homework for the summer and she'd even offered him some tips on a few of his essays. They'd talked a bit about the events at the end of the previous year, and she felt she might have helped to put Quirrell's death into perspective for him, but she was beginning to doubt based on the conversation she was now having with the Healer.

"Why not tomorrow? Wouldn't it be better to get things out of the way sooner, rather than later?"

"Possibly. But tomorrow is his actual birthday, and the girls and I had planned to do something fun for him. I don't want to take any focus away from his first birthday spent with people that actually care about him by starting the day with such a heavy topic. The announcement is hitting the Prophet tomorrow morning too, and I think that's going to be enough that we'll need to distract him from."

He hummed again and nodded his head before standing and straightening his robes.

"Well, I'll see myself out," he said. "I'll see you and Harry next week."

"Have a good night, Richard," she said.

After he left, Amelia spent a few minutes longer just sitting quietly with her thoughts before she also stood and went in search of the kids.

#####

"Goodnight," Harry called over his shoulder, a small smile still on his lips as he entered the room that had officially been given to him as 'his' room. Amelia and Susan had both encouraged him to decorate the space how he wanted but he'd been reluctant to make any changes, not until he knew that he would be staying there permanently. Across the hall, the girls all wished him a goodnight as well and disappeared into Susan's room where they were sharing.

Harry hadn't quite figured that out since Hermione and Daphne both had their own rooms as well but he shrugged it off as one of those 'girl things' that boys just weren't meant to understand.

He closed the door and leaned back against it with a tired sigh as the smile fell away and he seemed to visibly age years in moments. His shoulders sagged, brow creasing as he seemed to shrink slightly in on himself, as if a great weight rested on his shoulders. He shuffled across the room and into the private bath, pulling his wand from his pocket as he went. Lamps lit up automatically when he entered the room and he stared into the mirror at his own face, taking a deep breath before he pointed the wand at himself and whispered a quiet 'finite incantatum'.

His face blurred, just slightly, as the glamour fell and he couldn't held but wince at the visage that greeted him. Worry lines and creases covered his brow. He eyes seemed sunken and hollow, deep, dark circles beneath them and his complexion appeared sallow. All in all, he looked like shit, and he felt like it too.

"You need to talk to someone, stupid," he argued with the face in the mirror. He didn't feel stupid about arguing with himself, it was something he had a habit of doing, honestly, and considering it took more than a week after the incident with the stone for him to even work up the courage to look into another mirror, he figured he was ahead of the game being able to argue with his reflection.

"I don't want to worry them," his reflection said back.

"They keep telling you that's what they're here for. They want to worry about you and help you, you bleed'n idiot."

"Doesn't make it something easy for me to do, as you well know," he shot back and the image in the mirror rolled its eyes at him.

"You're suppressing the bond again, so the girls don't feel it. You're having nightmares every night, you're barely getting any sleep and you're resorting to cosmetics charms to hide the fact from anyone and everyone!"

He frowned but didn't have much of a rejoinder to that.

"Dammit man, at least talk to Gant. Maybe he could prescribe something to help sleep?"

Harry sighed and turned on the hot water, washing his face and brushing his teeth quickly before he changed for bed. A pair of black sweat pants and a loose black long sleeved shirt. He gave a brief thought of thanks to whoever charmed the house so that it remained a comfortable temperature, even in the summer heat. He'd always been miserable having to wear long sleeves in the summer at Privet Drive, but if he'd ever bared his arms, ever showed the scars, he would have been beaten and tossed into his cupboard for it, so he'd always just born the discomfort and tried to keep as hydrated as possible.

He glanced at the bed after casting several silencing charms at the door but with a sigh he moved over to one of the chairs by the fire and collected a book off the low coffee table in the center of the space. Leaning back in the seat, he opened the book to a place marked with a simple envelope and gently ran his fingers across the aged parchment.

The envelope was old, yellowed with age and the writing was faded but still legible, his name, written in an elegant, flowing script. He set the book aside and pulled several sheets of parchment from the envelope, carefully smoothing them out on his thigh before he started to read them, again, by the light of the fire.

 _My Darling Boy-_

 _I hope you never get this letter. I hope I've written this for no reason and that it has long since been burned. If you are reading it, then it means that we've failed. It means that your father and I are dead…_

#####

"Hermione? Is everything okay?"

Hermione started and glanced up into a pair of deep blue eyes. She was sitting in a small chair next to Susan's desk in her room, a hair brush held forgotten in one hand. Absently, she noticed Daphne glancing over from the bed at Susan's question. They'd changed into their sleep wear immediately after being sent up to bed by Susan's aunt, and Hermione had sat down to try and do something with her hair before bed, but her mind had begun to wander, as it so frequently did, and she'd lost herself in thought.

"Honestly?" she asked, rhetorically. "I don't really know."

Susan looked over at Daphne for a moment, a look of confusion on her face, before she turned back to Hermione and leaned his hip against the desk, looking down at her friend and bond mate.

"What's wrong?"

Hermione sighed and shook her head, setting the brush aside only to find herself fiddling with the cuffs of her long sleeved top. She could just barely feel the scar on the inside of her left forearm though the tops thin material.

"Do you think Harry's been acting strange?" she asked hesitantly.

"Strange?"

She nodded. "Yes, something just seems… off with him, lately and I can't quite put my finger on it." If there was one thing that could be said about Hermione Granger, aside from her prodigious intelligence, was that she was also an extremely observant young girl, and Harry Potter had been a subject of her observations for their entire first year at Hogwarts. She hadn't been able to spend nearly as much time with him and the other girls over the summer as they'd done at school, but shed slowly been picking up on it over the last week or so.

"I mean… it sounds awful, and that's kind of why I haven't mentioned before but… do you think he's seemed a little _too_ happy the last few weeks? And I haven't really felt his emotions much lately either. If he was really so happy, wouldn't we have been able to feel it?"

"I've been wondering about that myself, to be honest," Daphne admitted in a quiet tone. "But I've just been reminding myself that this whole situation is still new for him. He's gotta be a bit thrown off, a bit off balance. I don't know, he's been so much better the last couple months of school, right before that mess at the end of the year, right?"

Susan and Hermione nodded. Indeed, Harry _had_ been doing considerably better. He didn't appear to be worse, but something about his cheerful demeanor just felt… wrong, somehow.

"Come on," Susan cut in and grabbed Hermione by the hands, pulling the shorted girl to her feet. "Tomorrow is his birthday, and we're going to help him celebrate and have fun, right? We're done with all our summer work and there's nothing to do between now and September 1st but to buy our school supplies after our letters arrive. Between now and then we've got nothing but fun and relaxation ahead of us."

Hermione seemed reluctant to agree, but Susan and Daphne managed to coax her into the bed where they laid, talking quietly for some time before slowly drifting off to sleep.

Across the hall, Harry dozed fitfully in the chair by the fire, the letter still clutched loosely in one hand as tear tracks dried on his cheeks.


	17. Lord-Who-Lived

**Authors Note: Here we go again ladies and germs, The Rotten Writer here again with another fun filled drama of chaos and mayhe… wait… sorry, wrong story.**

 **Anyway, I wanted to point out a coupe of minor things here before moving onto the story itself. This particular chapter is a bit of a departure for me in some ways. First events that take place in this chapter do not do so in a linear manner. There are events set on the day after they get back from Hogwarts. There are events that take place on July 31** **st** **, Harry's birthday. And there are events that take place the next day.**

 **However these are not written in chronological order. There a bit of bouncing back and forth between past and present events. I tried to have it all make sense without having to add dates to the different sections, so hopefully I managed that and it won't be too confusing. I'm leading up to a bit of fun and some minor crazy before we dive into Seond Year at Hogwarts, I'm thinking the next chapter should probably be the last one for their summer, chapter after that they'll be back at school.**

 **In other news… in other news… OH! Jeez, almost forgot what I was gonna say. I've decided to temporarily forgo my planned update every Tuesday schedule that I've been doing. I'll still try to have a chapter every week at the very least, but if I finish early I'll post early. If I finish a little later, well, that's what happens sometimes. We'll see how that all works out for a few weeks and I'll revisit but I just wanted to give you all a heads up on the posting plan.**

 **Disclaimer: I still own no portion of the Harry Potter franchise. I'm just playing dress up with Rowlings' creations.**

 **And now, Chapter Sixteen of Sould Scars**

Soul Scars Part Two

Darkness Within

By,

Rtnwriter

Twelve-year-old Harry Potter groaned and rolled on the small crib mattress that took up the vast majority of the space inside the cupboard under the stairs at Number 4 Privet Drive. His battered ribs protested the movement quite vehemently, signaling his brain with pain to tell him that moving was a _bad_ idea. Once he had finally turned enough, he spat a mouth full of blood onto the floor and settled onto his back again, too pained to even think about moving.

In fact, he was really in too much pain to think at all.

 _How could you have been so sodding stupid, Potter?_ he admonished himself, staring up into the darkness. _Just sneak away from the Boneyard, just for a couple of hours, to collect your mum's things. Nothing could possibly go wrong. You can legally do magic out of school. Bleedin' idiot._

Just because he could legally perform magic outside of school, that hadn't meant anything when his enraged whale of a cousin blindsided him the second he was in the door. Harry had stood outside the door to Number 4 for some time, considering if he should really do what he intended to do. Maybe he should have asked someone to come with him?

He'd shoved his concerns aside and knocked on the door after checking for the reassuring presence of his wand in his back pocket. When Aunt Petunia answered the door he'd barely had time to take in the expression on her face morphing from shock to rage so fast it left his head spinning. She'd yanked him into the house by a fistful of his shirt and before he could reach for his wand a fist the size of a chevy hubcap crashed into the side of his face and the blackness overcame him.

He cringed and bit back a pained groan. Even that slight motion had sent spasms of pain through his body. He laid as still as he possibly could for some time, thinking of the events that led up to his current predicament before he eventually fell into a fitful doze just before dawn.

#####

Harry plucked, somewhat nervously, at the front of his robes. It was a new experience still for him, actually having clothes that fit and were new. At s hook, the novelty had worn off quickly since that was school uniforms. For the first time in his life he was able to dress in casual clothes that were all his of both the muggle and magical variety. It had been unanimously decided, by the various women in his life, that dark tones were definitely best for him. He didn't understand what that meant, really, other than that the clothes he bought last Christmas with his girls leading the charge were all in darker colors. Dark reds, blues, greens, and plenty of black.

The black he could live with. He liked wearing black. That's why, on their first day back after leaving Hogwarts for the summer, he was dressed in a pair of black slacks with black dragon hide boots, a black long sleeved dress shirt and over that a set of black wizarding robes with a dark red inner lining that gave a splash of color when he walked. Overall, he had to admit, he liked the effect.

"Mister Potter?"

He started out of his thoughts, looking up at the Goblin that had approached him where he stood waiting in the lobby at Gringotts.

"Griphook," he greeted the creature warmly with a closed lipped smile on his lips. "It's nice to see you again." He bowed slightly toward the goblin. "I pray your enemies have all learned to curse your name and fear your blades."

"And may your enemies gold line your pockets, Mister Potter," Griphook returned, mirroring Harry's bow. "Sharpshard will see you now, and he thanks you for your speedy response to his letter."

"Well, when I received it this morning, everything just fell into place. Madam Bones is my new guardian, temporarily at least, and she had the next week off of work already so was easily able to escort me."

"How have you been adjusting to life in the magical world?" Griphook asked politely as they walked and Harry considered that for a moment before he answered.

"Well, it definitely has been an adjustment. I'm not certain I'm entirely comfortable with it, to be honest, but I'm learning and getting better with things. I think I am at least."

"Understandable," Griphook said with a nod.

"And thank you, Griphook," he added, "for not calling me 'Lord Potter' out there where someone might have heard."

"You expressed a desire to keep that information private. We take our clients privacy very seriously," Griphook said with a nod of his head. By that point they'd reached the office and Griphook opened the door, ushering Harry in ahead of him before closing the door and taking up a position behind Sharpshard who was seated at his desk.

"Ah, Lord Potter," Sharpshard said. "Thank you for meeting me so quickly."

"It was no problem at all, Sharpshard," Harry assured him. "Your letter sounded urgent."

They exchanged the usual greetings and Sharpshard frowned, gesturing with one hand as a teapot and a carafe of coffee appeared on his desk. They prepared their own cups, Harry, once again, noting a lack of cream or sugar but for some reason there was a small salt shaker on the tray and he grinned before adding a bit to his coffee.

"I wouldn't say the situation is urgent, specifically," Sharpshard said after a moment where they sipped their drinks in silence. "It has sat for over ten years already, after all, but one of the services offered when a new Lord takes up his Head of House status is a complete audit of all vaults belonging to the family. This way we can give a accurate listing of all items, heirlooms, and so on that may be in the various vaults."

"Makes sense," Harry said, nodding to show that he understood. "Am I to understand that you found something noteworthy in one of my families vaults?"

"We did indeed. Your father, Lord James Potter, kept a desk in the family vault. The desk contains several packages of documents and files for the head of house which we, of course, did not read through in any way. Several of the drawers are locked and blood keyed so only a direct family member of the Potter line can open them. But sitting in the center of the desk, right on top of the blotter, we found this." He reached into a drawer in his own desk and withdrew a large envelope. The parchment was faded and yellowed and sealed with a large wax seal imprinted with the Potter crest. On the front were the words 'To Harry', written in an elegant, flowing script.

Harry carefully set down his cup and reached out with a shaking hand to accept the letter.

"I believe, that your mother left that for you," Sharpshard informed him in a quiet murmur. "Like I said, it's kept for this long, so I did not feel it was urgent, per se, but I also know how little there is of your parents and I felt it would be a great disservice not to inform you of this as quickly as was expedient."

Harry was quiet for some time, simply staring at the worn envelope in his hands before finally glancing up at the aged goblin on the other side of the desk. "Thank you, Sharpshard. I really appreciate you bringing this to my attention."

Sharpshard simply nodded and moved on. "There were a small number of other items that have come up that I wanted to speak to you about eventually, since you're here, would now be an acceptable time?"

"Of course," Harry said and straightened up, reluctantly tucking the letter into his robes. "What was it you needed to discuss with me?"

They spent the next half an hour going over some of the business ventures that were bringing a continued profit into the Potter vaults as well as a few that had tapered off to the point where Sharpshard recommended selling off the shares Harry owned and moving the funds into other companies. With his limited knowledge Harry decided that the knowledgeable goblin was far better suited to making such decisions and drafted a letter giving Sharpshard greater autonomy over the family investments so that he wouldn't need to check in with Harry for such items like completely selling out shares in one company or another.

Eventually, with their business concluded, Sharpshard handed Harry a folder with the complete list of heirlooms and items stored within the Potter family vault for him to look through at his leisure and Harry thanked them both and left the office.

After several quiet moments Sharpshard rubbed his chin and mused thoughtfully, "I wonder why Lord Potter hasn't brought up looking for information on the bond he shares with his ladies. With how inquisitive he appears to be and how willing to search for information pertinent to him, I would have thought he'd be asking everywhere he could."

"I think I may be able to answer that, actually, Accounts Manager," Griphook offered, hesitantly.

"Oh?" The old goblin turned his attention to the teller, a single bushy eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Yes. When he arrived here during the holidays, he commented that he had questions regarding his families finances and such and when I asked if he had sought information from any wizards he commented why would he ask a wizard about something that is controlled by the goblins. I believe, given that mindset, that he would be unlikely to ask us since there are no stories of goblin soul mates. It seems he might see it as something strictly limited to humans so would limit his search to that area."

"Hmmm… Not an incorrect assumption, but it does show a blind spot in his awareness."

"That may simply be because of his age."

"True enough."

"Would you like me to send him the information that we have on Soul Bonds and soul mates?" Griphook asked.

"Not yet. I want to give him some more time to see if he comes to the conclusion on his own."

"Understood, Sir."

#####

"Is everything okay, Harry?"

Harry looked up from the sundae sitting on the table in front of him. The ice cream was melting and he'd been staring blankly at it for several minutes. Hermione was spending the day with her parents getting ready for their annual vacation, something they apparently did every summer. She had been less than thrilled for the first time in her life since she'd wanted to spend more time with Harry, Susan, and Daphne over the summer, but the other three had encouraged her, loudly, to spend time with her parents. She hadn't seen them for most of the year except over the Christmas Holiday and Harry, more than anyone, understood the importance of family.

"I'm not honestly sure, Daphne," he admitted.

Susan slid her seat closer to his offering her silent support.

The four of them, Harry, Susan, Daphne, and Amelia had spent a few hours after his meeting at Gringotts shopping around the Alley. The girls had dragged Harry to Madam Malkins again since, with the potions he'd taken the previous school year, he'd grown considerably and most of the clothes he'd bought over the Christmas Holidays no longer fit quite right. After, they'd found themselves at Fortiscue's, enjoying a rest and a cool treat in the warm summer afternoon.

"Sharpshard had an audit done of my family's vaults," he said. "Apparently it's something they do when a new heir takes over the family accounts…" he trailed off and hesitantly reached into his robes, removing the faded yellow envelope from where he'd tucked it securely into an inside pocket. "I think… I think it's from my mum," he muttered and Susan pushed her seat even closer, wrapping one arm around Harry's shoulders.

After several quiet minutes had passed Amelia cleared her throat and stood up, drawing the three children's attention to her. "Why don't we head home?" she suggested. "I think you should read that, Harry, and I think it might be best to do it someplace less public, but in the end it's entirely your decision." She offered the young wizard a warm smile and he nodded, his lips twitching but not quite approaching a smile himself.

In moments they were gone, a few gold and silver coins resting on the table as their sundaes sat forgotten, melting under the heat of the sun.

#####

When they arrived back at the Boneyard Harry walked away without a word and Susan and Daphne cast worried glances in his direction.

"Just leave him be," Amelia offered and led the girls into the sitting room. A tray with a full tea set was already waiting for them and they sat and helped themselves to some biscuits while her aunt poured the tea. "You can't help him with every little thing, you know," she told them. "Sometimes you just need to let him deal with things on his own."

Susan sighed. "I know, but after last week… I don't know I'm just having trouble letting him out of my sight. That idiot… he downed that potion and just ran ahead, he left us behind."

"He did, but you understand why he did it, don't you?"

"Because he didn't trust us to help him," she grumbled and Amelia shook her head, her red hair swishing back and forth with the motion.

"No, Susan, it isn't that he didn't trust you. It's not about trusting you, it's that he didn't want you to get hurt. I know to you that sounds like he didn't trust you and your abilities but you've got to remember what Harry has been through so far in his life. He's never had anyone. No one close to him, no one he could trust. You girls, you've gotten closer to him than anyone in his life has ever managed and he's terrified to lose that. You mentioned how he'd make excuses for his Uncle over the years. What were those excuses that he made?"

Susan frowned as she tried to think back. She had only heard part of that conversation on Christmas day along with Hermione. Harry had been talking to Daphne when they'd approached and he'd been further down the hall than they were.

"He said it was his fault. That he'd messed something up or ruined something or made a mistake," Daphne cut in. "Every excuse he made put all of the blame squarely on himself."

"And that's how Harry views the world. When things go wrong, when people close to him get hurt, he's going to blame himself. So it isn't that he didn't trust you, it seems to me it's more that he was just so desperate to protect you, and to protect himself that he just couldn't risk you coming with him."

Susan and Daphne considered that for a moment before they nodded, somewhat reluctantly, in agreement.

"Finish your tea, and go find something fun to do," Amelia said, giving them a warm smile.

Daphne looked up. "Actually, Madam Bones?"

Amelia glared at the blond for several moments before Daphne suddenly blushed and corrected herself, "I mean, Amelia."

"Yes, Daphne?" Amelia said, a pleased smirk twisting her lips as both girls rolled their eyes.

"We wanted to go swimming, but we were wondering if you could teach us a spell first?"

Amelia arched a brow at them, her curiosity piqued. "If it's one I know and not dangerous I might be convinced. What spell and why?"

"We wanted to learn some glamours," Susan told her.

"With the scars… Harry still doesn't know," Daphne added in a near whisper, as if the young man might pop up at any moment and hear their discussion.

"We want to teach Harry how to swim, but we don't want to show him the scars so we were hoping you could teach us some glamours to hide them."

At that, Amelia frowned. "You haven't told him about the scars yet? After finding out about the bond I would have thought the scars would be the very next thing you explained to him."

"We wanted to, honestly. But the sorting hat… when we were sorted, and the hat told us all about the bond and that the four of us were all together in it, it talked to us for a bit afterward. It asked Harry to leave, actually, so it could speak to the three of us alone."

"And?"

"And it told us that we really, really, needed to hide the scars from Harry. At least for a while."

"Why?"

Daphne quirked a sad smile at the older witch. "You said it yourself, Amelia. He blames himself for everything. Right now… we're better, our relationship with him is stronger than it's ever been. But we have a lot of growing to do, and he has a lot of healing to do, still. Can you honestly say that if he found out right now that he'd be okay with it? That he'd listen to reason and understand that it's really not his fault?"

Susan shook her head while her aunt pondered that. "You know he wouldn't be able to, auntie," she said. "He'd blame himself, and he'd distance himself from us. He'd be trying to avoid hurting us like the noble prat he is, but it'd just hurt all of us more in the long run."

"We still don't like it, but he's just not ready for it."

"You realize that even if you were to apply a glamour to the scars that they're still there," Amelia pointed out and both girls blinked at her. "Even if they can't be seen he'd still be able to feel them. I said the same thing to him about his Head of House ring for his family. I knew you girls would be able to feel that ring on his finger even if you couldn't see it so I encouraged him to tell you three about it. Same thing here."

They frowned at that but couldn't really think of anything.

"Let me think about it," Amelia offered. "I might know a few people I could ask a couple of discreet questions as well. Maybe someone knows of a way to hide them so he wouldn't be able to feel them even if he touched your arms or your back. In the meantime, go relax, maybe start on some of your summer work?" she added the last with a hopeful tilt to her voice but after the girls hugged her in thanks and scurried off she didn't hold out much hope that they would immediately start on their homework.

She sighed and leaned back in her chair for a moment before she called for Binky and requested he bring her some writing supplies and parchment. She apparently had a few letters to write.

#####

Harry felt like his mind was in a haze, somewhat confused, and slightly bemused by the whirlwind of activity that had taken place around him. After a night filled with horrific terrors in his dreams, sometimes of the old dream he'd started having the previous Christmas, and sometimes with new images of the fight over the Stone, he'd been woken from his fitful slumber by three loudly screaming girls who'd bounded into his room crying 'happy birthday' at the top of their lungs.

He was glad he'd replaced the glamours at one point in the middle of the night and it would be hours yet before he'd need to recast them.

Despite half-hearted protests he was dragged from his room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen where he found himself seated at the head of the table with a pile of wrapped gifts placed in front of him.

He looked at the pile now, unwrapped and open to his inspection as the girls puttered around in the kitchen, helping to prepare a birthday breakfast despite Binky's loud protests that it was his job to cook and the mistresses should sit and let him do it. At one point, Harry glanced over and burst out laughing at the sight of Hermione engaged in a game of tug-of-war with the tiny elf over a spatula.

"No!" the little creature squeaked, yanking the spatula from her grip and ignoring her protests all the way. "Lady Grangy warned Binky. Missy Mione is not allowed anywhere near cooking if Binky doesn't want house burned down!"

Hermione huffed at that, but dropped into a seat near a still chuckling Harry, grumbling under her breath. He caught only a few random words, 'wasn't that bad' and 'small fire' being chief amongst them, which only made him laugh harder while Binky set about chasing Daphne and Susan away from his stoves.

Eventually, much later than intended, Binky was able to serve breakfast to the group while Hermione continued to sulk, Daphne and Susan smirked ant her behavior and Amelia just watched the proceedings with more than a little amusement while Harry examined his gifts. He'd received a book of Seeker Quidditch plays from Neville, a beautiful winter cloak in black with a scarlet trim from the girls as well as a small gift from each individually like sweets and some new quills and inks. Tracey Davis and Hannah sent him small gifts as well and he'd yet to open the large box that had arrived from the Weasley twins. Honestly, he was scare to, who knew what would happen?

One of his favorite gifts though, was the dragon hide wand holster he received from Amelia.

"This is just a step below an Auror grade holster," she explained as she helped show him how to strap it to his right forearm, everyone ignoring the flush that stained his cheeks when she pushed up his sleeve, showing the scars there. She said nothing and just helped him with the straps and buckles that secured the holster to the inside of his forearm. "The Auror grade holster has a quick release that requires a bit more skill," she added.

The rest of breakfast he spent eating with his left hand while he practiced holstering and releasing his wand. With a flick of his wrist the holster would propel the wand out and the magic in it stopped the wand at the perfect distance for him to simply wrap his fingers around the handle. The true Auror grade holsters didn't have that stopping effect, meaning that, once a person was skilled in the use of it, they made for a faster draw but required more skill to avoid having the wand just shoot out of your hand before you could grip it. Releasing the wand, with another accompanying twitch of his wrist, would send it shooting back into the holster with a loud click.

It was just as the were finishing their meal when a large brown owl swooped in the open window and landed on the table in front of Amelia, a small pouch tied to one ankle and a rolled up newspaper clutched in it's talons. It dropped the morning issue of the Daily Prophet and she wordlessly handed the paper over to Harry as she dug out a few knuts to place in the pouch.

The girls stood and crowded around behind Harry, reading over his shoulder as he straightened out the paper and look at the large headline on the front page.

 **Boy-Who-Lived ward of the Ministry**

 _By, Barnaby Cuffe, Senior Editor_

 _Yes, ladies and gentlemen of the wizarding world, the headline above is true. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, has been announced as a ward of the Ministry. For those that may not understand what this means, I shall explain. A ward of the Ministry is an underage witch or wizard that is in need of a home, and a family to raise and care for them. The usual process for this, is any family, wishing to become the guardian of the child in question would petition the Department of Child Services at the Ministry. The various petitions would be examined and a family would be awarded custody by the Wizengamont. That's not happening in this case, however. The process is still to send the petition to the DCS, but they will pass along the information to Mister Potter directly and he will decide for himself what offer of family and guardianship to accept._

 _How is this possible, you ask? The Boy-Who-Lived is a minor, he shouldn't be expected to make such adult decisions for himself. Right? In our world a childs magical Guardian is responsible from such decisions, and Harry Potter, as with many children attending Hogwarts, is the magical ward of the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, isn't he? Well, through my investigation I found that in the case of the Boy-Who-Live, this is no longer true. A search through the Ministry's public records uncovered that Mister Potter should, in fact, be addressed as Lord Potter, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter._

 _Yes, dear readers. Lord Potter accepted his status as head of house during the Christmas Holidays last year and as such is an emancipated minor in the eyes of magic and wizarding law. This allows him more freedom to make choices for himself, as well as the ability to use magic freely outside of school without coming afoul of the reasonable restriction of underage sorcery. How this has happened is unclear. I petitioned Gringotts for the answer, since they were the ones to supply the young Lord with his House Ring, but they stated, 'Gringotts holds the privacy of our clients in the highest regard and without Lord Potters express permission we will not be releasing any information regarding him, his family, or his business within our walls.'_

 _I was then, politely, escorted from the premises by a dozen heavily armored and armed goblin warriors._

 _Well, that's it, readers. Lord Potter is in need of a new legal guardian and is seen as fit to choose for himself where he will go. Better get those petitions sent out soon, who know's where the young Lord will end up?_

Harry frowned at the paper as he finished the article and Hermione slipped it from his grasp, unnoticed by him as he was lost in his musings.

"There's additional articles in here outlining how the petitions are supposed to be organized and where they're to be sent," she said as she flipped through the rest of the paper. "There's even an article talking about your Lordship and questioning… oh that's ridiculous!" she snapped in sudden irritation and tossed the paper aside.

"What?" he asked, focusing his attention back onto her as Daphne and Susan looked over the page that had caused Hermione's ire.

"Some Skeeter woman suggesting all kinds of outrageous explanations for how you could have accepted your head of house status as an eleven-year-old," she practically growled, glowering at the paper in Susan's hands.

"Well, Skeeter is getting more creative as time goes on," Susan spoke up, laughter easily audible in her voice. "We've got everything from Harry being trapped into a magically binding betrothal, to dabbling in dark rituals. There's even some accurate information in here. She mentions how powerful Harry is and that's her basis for considering rituals to increase his magical strength."

"Rita Skeeter is a bottom feeder and a blight on society," Amelia said, firmly. "Pay no attention to her or anything she writes. I'm fairly certain that woman wouldn't recognize the truth if it jumped up and bit her on the arse."

"So everyone knows I'm Lord Potter now," Harry remarked, idly spinning the house ring on his hand with his thumb, the large ruby glittering in the light as it rotated around his finger.

"It was going to come out eventually, harry," Amelia reminded him gently and he heaved out a sigh.

"I know. I was just hoping to be 'just Harry' for a while longer."

"You've never been 'just Harry'," Daphne pointed out. "And you never will be." He looked upset at that revelation but she pressed on before he could protest. "We know better, and you friends know better Harry. The vast majority of people in the world look at you and all they'll see, all they'll ever see, is the Boy-Who-Lived. Neville, Hannah, Tracey, and the rest of us, we all see you, Harry. But even to us you're not 'just Harry'. 'Just Harry' wouldn't have survived what you've been through over the years. 'Just Harry' wouldn't have faced Quirrell and You-Know-Who last year. 'Just Harry' wouldn't have saved Susan from a fall off a broom or saved me from a troll.

"You're more than 'just Harry'. And that's not a bad thing." She reached across the table and took one of his hands in hers, squeezing gently. "You're a powerful and remarkable wizard, Harry. You're brave… no… you're courageous," she amended herself with a grin as they all thought of the story Harry had told Neville deep beneath the school in their fight through the security measures around the Stone. "And you are more important to us than you know."

He nodded slowly, his expression guarded and squeezed her hand before taking his back and leaning back in his seat.

"Well, I think that's enough of the heavy conversations," Amelia broke in, pushing herself to her feet with her hands flat on the table. "Come on, kids. Go get dressed for an outing. We have plans to get to for today." She flashed them a bright grin as the girls eagerly stood and Harry almost groaned, looking rather hesitant to move.

"But aren't we going to get mobbed if we go out?" he asked. "I'd really rather not have to put up with that right now."

"If we were going to the Wizarding world, yes, but we're going out muggle style today so the odds of anyone recognizing you are rather slim." Amelia made a shooing motion with both hands. "Go on, change into something nice but we're not doing anything fancy so comfortable is a good choice."

Feeling a bit better about the proposed outing Harry ran up to the guest room, his room, he reminded himself, and quickly changed into a comfortable pair of black jeans and threw on his black trainers before turning his attention to a shirt. A month spent in a home that he didn't feel afraid to be in had changed many aspects of his thinking and he briefly remembered a conversation he'd had with Susan right at the end of the school year. His stomach clenched at the thought but he forced back the fear and changed quickly before glancing at himself in the full length mirror on the back of the walk in closet door.

Before he had a chance to change his mind he hurried out of his room and down the stairs to find Amelia and the girls already waiting at the bottom of the stairs, talking quietly until Susan, in mid sentence, glanced in his direction and fell suddenly silent causing everyone else to turn in his direction.

He stopped on the bottom step, self consciously fiddling with the cuffs on his shirt, firmly keeping his hands down. He was wearing a black long sleeved button down shirt that had an intricate celtic knot work design in silver on the left side of the chest. The shirt was unbuttoned and untucked and beneath it he wore a simple, white, wife beater shirt. The low neckline of the shirt revealed a single scar, a dark slash of a line that started just beneath the hollow of his throat and diagonally up, over his collar bone toward his right shoulder.

"Harry?" Susan asked hesitantly as she approached him. Her eyes were firmly on his, but he could tell she was working to not look down at the visible scar. "Are you sure? You said…"

"I know what I said," he muttered nervously. Unable to resist temptation anymore his right hand came up and traced the scar on his chest. "I hate them. But they're here. They're part of me… right?" He dropped his hand and shrugged. "I don't know I just thought… since we're going into the muggle world, and no one will know me… maybe I don't have to completely hide?"

She leaned in and gave him a firm hug. "You don't have to hide at all," she whispered before she stood back and gave him a smirk. "Besides, weren't you the one that said 'chicks dig scars'?"

Daphne and Hermione snorted with laughter and Harry blushed brightly as Amelia looked on in confusion for a moment before she sent the girls on to the Floo. She directed Harry along behind them, ready to side-along Apparate him to their destination and made a mental note to ask for an explanation to that line just before they vanished from the house with a quiet crack.

#####

Later that evening, Harry laid in bed thinking of the day he'd just had. It had been far more fun than he'd honestly expected. Simple and to the point. They'd arrived at the Granger household and Hermione had happily given them all a tour of her home. Harry couldn't help but crack a smile at the thought of her bedroom. It had simply been so… Hermione. A simply decorated room with a large bed, linens in soft pastel colors and two walls completely dominated by bookshelves filled to overflowing.

They had appeared in the guest bedroom where a fireplace had been magically added to allow the muggle home access to the Floo network, something he learned was normally not allowed but Amelia had been able to swing a special dispensation in Hermione's case. He wasn't sure how, but he wasn't going to question it.

From there the group had piled into two vehicles with Dan driving one and Emma driving the other and within the hour they found themselves at a mall, of all places. More specifically though, as he discovered, their destination had been the movie theater located at the mall. The next several hours was spent introducing Daphne, the least experienced witch there, to the joys of the muggle world including some shopping and a movie. The entire trip back home after the movie had been filled with the blonds' voice as she asked question after question, marveling at the sights and sounds she'd been exposed to.

While the shopping hadn't exactly been his favorite part of the day, Harry found that he'd still enjoyed himself, especially in light of the naked wonder on Daphne's face. She'd been even more astounded by the movie they'd seen though Harry couldn't remember many details of the film itself after the fact. His attention had been taken up by the witches surrounding him with Hermione on his right and Susan and Daphne sitting to his left, he found himself feeling more content than he could remember feeling in a long time.

He sighed and picked up the letter that he'd already read so many times he'd practically committed it to memory.

"This is a bad idea," he muttered to himself.

 _But if you don't check, you'll never know._

"I should ask for help. They keep telling me they want to help, as you pointed out last night."

 _True enough. But some things you've got to do for yourself._

He sighed again and set down the letter before climbing out of bed. He was still dressed in the same outfit he'd worn out that day and considered changing for a moment but decided not to bother. He wouldn't be long, with any luck.

Leaving the letter on his bed, he slipped from the room, quietly closing the door behind him and making his way down the stairs to the Floo Access. Careful questioning in the guise of curiosity over the last several weeks had increased Harry's understanding of the Floo and how it worked. In particular the chime the would ring throughout the Manor whenever it was used.

Tapping a rune etched into the fireplaces mantle, he deactivated that chime and, grabbing a small pinch of Floo powder, he took a deep breath, steeling himself, and tossed it into the fire as he called out, "The Leaky Cauldron." An instant later he vanished in a flash of emerald flames.

Elsewhere in the Manor, Amelia Bones looked up from the parchment work spread out across her desk in her private office. A tingling at the back of her mind told her the ward she'd added to Harry's room had been tripped, letting her know that he'd left the room. A glance at her watch, however, had her dismiss the warning. It was still relatively early in the evening, he was more than likely getting himself a drink or a snack even.

Since she'd keyed Harry to the Manors wards, there was no further warning when he fired up the Floo and left the Boneyard behind.

#####

"You little SHIT!"

Harry jerked, startled when the door to the cupboard burst open with a loud bang and the loud, obnoxious voice voiced him from the fitful sleep he'd fallen into. A large hand grabbed the front of his shirt and he found himself being hauled painfully from the cupboard and thrown to the floor. He struck hard, his shoulder flaring in pain and he bounced and rolled into the entryway wall.

Head ringing, vision blurred without his glasses he could just make out three shapes above him. His aunt and cousin were relatively easy to discern but the third form escaped him for a moment until it spoke again.

"To think, lying to the police about my dear brother," it screeched and he groaned when Marge Dursley reared back and drove the toe of her boot into his ribs. "You should be grateful for the loving care and affection this family has showered you with, you worthless little mongrel!" she shouted and kicked him again.

"It's like I've always said, Petunia, dear," Marge went on in a pleasantly conversational tone as Harry curled up into a ball on the floor, "when the bitch is no good the offspring will be just as rotten. It's not really his fault, you see, but he just can't help it, it's in his nature."

Harry tried. He tried to reach for his magic, he tried to focus, he tried to use his anger, but he was in too much pain. Too scared. Too frightened of the figures surrounding him. If he'd been more lucid he would have snorted at the insanity of it all. He'd faced Voldemort himself less than two weeks ago and stood his own, despite the fear. But Marge Dursley terrified him so much he couldn't even move. The only thing he could do, was keep pushing down on the link, keep suppressing his connection to the girls. This was his fault, his mistake, they didn't need to feel his pain, they didn't need to suffer for his act-

Wait…

A new thought sprang into existence, filling his mind, whirling chaotically as Marge and the others continued to chat above him. No one knew what their link was capable of. Maybe he could use it?

He hesitated, and paid for it with another blow to his side from the bitch's boot. Cringing away from the blow, and without another moments thought, Harry opened the link that connected him to the girls more than he'd ever done before, pushed it wider than he'd ever been willing to allow and as something sharp bit into his skin he pushed with all the force he could muster, projecting every thought, every feeling that he could through the connection and prayed.


	18. Rescued

**Authors Note: Rotten Writer here again, gang.**

 **So, in the previous chapter there was some chaos and mayhem and some people seem to feel I'm still beating a dead horse on the drama and chaos. Personally I'd say that I have to disagree, but to each their own. Honestly, there's calculated reasons for many of the events in the previous chapter. Some of these will be made clear in this chapter, others won't make sense for a while now.**

 **With moving into second year the AU aspects of the story are going to start developing further and I've got to set up some changes and strange occurrences that will eventually affect future portions of the story as we move further and further away from aspects of the established canon. For example, without giving too much away Second Year is going to have a number of changes to it, though the bare bones of the story will largely play out in a very similar fashion. But it's going to be peppered with minor events that will affect larger and more sweeping changes for later portions of the story.**

 **So, while I can admit, that there did appear to be some of the same old tired behavior from Harry in the previous chapter there are several factors that need to be considered into the why and how. First, Harry isn't just going to miraculously 'get better', not with the past I've established for him at this point. He's had a REALLY shitty life and that's going to affect him for the rest of his life. He's never going to be totally "cured" and honestly, shouldn't be, given what he's experienced. He'll learn ways to cope, he'll learn to rely on people to help him, especially his ladies, but it's not going to happen overnight or even in the first couple of years. He's still going to have moments of stupid and if this offends people or is annoying I apologize and thank you for sticking with us this long but it is entirely your choice if you wish to continue on this adventure with the rest of us or not.**

 **All that being said, we're going to have an interesting second year and I'm really looking forward to starting some of those changes that are going to affect the rest of the story.**

 **Quick side note, I've given up on trying to stick to metric units of measurement. I'm American and steeped in the stupid Imperial system that only us yanks use. I'm eventually going to go back and edit past chapters for this but from now on I'm sticking to feet and inches when I need to use measurements and hope this doesn't throw anyone off too much. I just find myself flip flopping too much and it'll be easier for me to stick to what I know.**

 **Disclaimer: I own not any aspect of the Harry Potter franchise or it's characters. All I own is the original portions of this plot and nothing else.**

 **Here we go with chapter 17 of Soul Scars!**

Soul Scars Part Two

Darkness Within

By,

Rtnwriter

There was a quiet hissing sound that filled the office, a low, sibilant noise just below the edge of normal hearing. If the office hadn't been so silent it would have been drowned out by any other ambient sound in the room.

Croaker sat behind his desk, staring at the hourglass that sat centered on the hard surface in front of him. Easily four feet tall with a top and base carved of gleaming ebony, four poles supported the structure and the large glass globes held between. The sand, a light green color drifted slowly from the top globe into the bottom with the inexorable forward march of time that all fall victim too.

"You know," Croaker said, suddenly, startling his guest by speaking after many long minutes of utter silence save for the hissing of the sand in the hourglass. "Time is one of those things that I doubt magic will ever truly be able to understand. It's a concept that only holds meaning because we've defined it, given it meaning by measuring it and breaking it up into chunks of seconds, minutes, hours, days, and so on. We've found ways to fudge with time, yes, the turners being one tool, but truly, of all the mysteries of our universe I feel that time is the one we will never truly be able to comprehend."

"Sir?" Sable asked, confused by their superiors strange statement.

Croaker waved one glove covered hand and leaned back in his desk as the massive hourglass floated silently through the air and settled itself into one corner of the office. "Never mind," he said. "Just the ramblings of an old mind. You were saying about the subjects?" he added, urging his subordinated to move on with his report.

"Yes, Director. The teams have been observing the subjects for the last month and have had nothing unusual to report. On the first day back, if you'll remember, subject White King did have a meeting with Gringotts. He received something that we haven't been able to identify but it seemed to upset him for a time but then he appeared to put it from his mind."

Croaker nodded, silently urging Sable to continue with the report.

"Yesterday evening at approximately 2030 hours, subject White King went AWOL."

"AWOL?"

"A muggle term it means Away Without Leave. Without permission, and in fact acting surreptitiously he snuck away from the Boeyard to destinations unknown. We've been looking for him since."

"Has anyone else noticed?"

"About an hour ago at 0200, subject Red Queen realized that White King was not in bed and began a search of the Manor-" Sable broke off as a tiny mote of light filtered into the office through the wall and absorbed into Sable's head. "White King has been located, Number 4 Privet Drive in Surrey."

Croaker arched a single brow beneath his hood. "Why would he go _there_ of all places?" he wondered aloud.

"No idea, Director. Secondary team reports that White King is in distress, however. The house occupants have been… hostile."

"Is he in eminent mortal danger?"

"Not as far as things appear at present. He's uninjured, but doesn't appear to be too severely."

"Leave things as they are for now. I want to see how they play out but the team knows the plan. If it appears that White King is in mortal peril they're to stop in."

"Understood, Director."

"Dismissed."

Sable nodded and stood, leaving the office without another word. A moment later the massive hourglass had returned to its place on the desk and Croaker leaned back in his seat, watching as the sand slowly trickled down through the glass.

#####

Amelia Bones worried at her lower lip, chewing on it unconsciously as she studied the empty room. The guest room she'd given to Harry didn't look like the room belonged to a preteen boy. It still looked like a guest room. It was undecorated, lacking any kind of personal touch. If it wasn't for the few items that belonged to Harry that were scattered around, like his trunk at the foot of the bed and a few books on the coffee table near the fire place, she would almost thing it was still an empty room, waiting for someone to stay overnight at the Boneyard.

 _Dammit,_ she thought. _I should have been paying closer attention. Where the hell_ is _he?_

Two in the morning. It was two o'clock in the bloody morning before she noticed that Harry wasn't in his room. She'd wracked her brain, looking for any sign that he'd left. Something she'd missed. She remembered the wards telling her that he'd left his room the night before at around eight thirty. She hadn't given it much thought at the time. Kids come and go from their rooms at all times, and it wasn't like it was exceptionally late at night.

For the life of her, though, she couldn't remember him going hack _into_ the room. That was what was annoying her. Had she really been so focused on her work that she hadn't even realized it? Well, res, obviously she had been. But if he had, the ward would have caught her attention. She tried to tell herself that she hadn't been remiss in her duties as his guardian to not notice his movements last night, but with the Boy-Who-Lived missing… she couldn't help but feel a sharp pang of guilt, mixed with not a little bit of anger and frustration.

"Why can't this kid get it through his head to ask for help?" she muttered. "No idea what the hell he's doing, but if he needed help with something he needs to ask, dammit."

She sighed and backed out of the room, closing the door behind her and making her way downstairs to the kitchen where the girls were all sitting around the table, pale, and with hands clasped around cups of warm tea. They looked like hell, and she couldn't tell if it was just because Harry was missing or if there was something else involved.

Still dressed in their sleep wear, light pajamas and long sleeved tops, they sat listlessly, eyes glassy and a touch unfocused.

"Anything?" she asked as she sank into a seat and lifted the cup of tea that appeared in front of her with a quiet pop.

Daphne shook her head.

"Nothing concrete, Amelia," Hermione mumbled.

"He feels…" Susan trailed off for a second before giving out a frustrated sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's so irritating," she burst out. "He's suppressing the link again. It's… he's still there, we can still feel his presence in our minds but trying to identify individual feelings or anything else?" She shook her head. "There's not enough there for us to get ahold of."

"I've already sent word to the office," Amelia told them. "I'm hoping they'll be able to figure out where he is but he could be anywhere. I'm not even sure how far he could or might have gotten. I mean, he can't apparate, can't make a port key, I'm honestly amazed he actually chose to use the Floo, but unfortunately there's nothing to tell us _where_ he actually went."

"Where it was, he _really_ wanted to get there if it actually made him get over his issues with Floo travel," Hermione observed. "Anyone have any ideas what that might be? This wouldn't be something hat he just thought up on a whim. He turned off the chime on the Floo that lets the house know when someone uses it. He planned a stealthy exit and has probably been ding so for days if not weeks."

"What about that letter he took from his vault?" Daphne asked, sitting up sharply in her seat as the thought occurred to her. "Does anyone know what that was about?"

They all shook their heads and let out a collective sigh of frustration. Amelia in particular was feeling trapped. As an Auror she was a person of action, sitting around with no leads to follow up on and nothing to actually _do_ was driving her right up the wall.

"I haven't even seen that letter since the day he got it," Susan muttered.

Amelia jumped a moment later when the girls each started and Susan and Hermione whimpered slightly before they lifted their shirts, almost in unison, to see a small cut appear, low above their right hip, sealing over into a new scar and Amelia cursed, blistering the air around her as the girls wiped away the blood.

"All right," Amelia muttered under her breath. "That is _it_. Binky!"

"Mistress Bonsey calls for Binky?" the little elf squeaked a moment later after he popped into the room.

"Yes, Binky," Amelia said, trying to keep her voice level. "Harry has taken it upon himself to leave the house sometime last night and we're worried about him. He had a letter that was taken from his family vaults that he received at the start of the month. Would you happen to know where that letter is?"

Binky looked thoughtful for a moment before he nodded rapidly, his large ears flapping around his head for a moment. "Yes, Mistress Bonsey. Binky found a letter last night on the mister Harry Potter's bed. Binky put it away with his bookses."

"Could you please bring me that letter?"

Binky nodded and popped away and Amelia settled back in her seat, glaring at the cup of now cold tea in front of her.

"Should we really do that?"

Amelia glanced up at Hermione's question. The girl looked torn. Wringing her hands on the table in front of her and shifting her weight in her seat, her face a study of indecision.

"I mean… is it right to invade his privacy like this?"

Amelia sighed and shook her head. "No, Hermione. No it isn't right, and normally I would never even think of doing such a thing. But he hasn't given us much choice. He's obviously getting hurt, wherever he is, and we don't have the slightest hint where that might be. We need something, anything, some kind of lead to find him and if he get's upset with me for invading his privacy I'll deal with that fallout later. Right now I'm far more worried for his safety than I am over a little bit of privacy under these current circumstances."

Hermione nodded, somewhat hesitantly at that, but her expression firmed even as she sat up a bit straighter in her seat, her eyes hardening as her lightning quick mind considered and filed away that information. On either side of her she noticed Daphne and Susan reacting similarly, but she wasn't certain if their reaction was entirely due to the words Amelia had said, or if it was responding to her own emotions that she knew was bleeding over to the other two girls through their link.

She frowned momentarily at that random thought. The link that connected her to the other girls had been on her mind more frequently of late. She felt that it was very similar, if not identical to the link she shared with Harry, but she wasn't sure she wanted to consider the possible implications of that.

Luckily for her, before she could traverse that particular rabbit hole, Binky popped back into the room, the yellowed envelope they'd all seen before clutched carefully in his long fingered hands with the letter turned endwise and stuffed into the envelope so that it stuck out of the open flap.

Amelia took the letter, thanking Binky for it, and when the little elf popped away she pulled out the letter and spread it out carefully on the table in front of her before she picked it up and started to read aloud.

 _My Darling Boy-"_ she said.

 _I hope you never get this letter, I hope I've written this for no reason and that it has long since been burned. If you are reading it, then it means that we've failed. It means that your father and I are dead and someone, someone we thought to be a good and true friend, betrayed us._

 _If everything goes according to plan, even if we do not survive, I am positive that you will. And Harry, I am so, so, sorry, but if things happen as I think they will, a monumental burden will fall on your shoulders. It is a burden your father and I would gladly take from you and shoulder ourselves, but life, and fate, are cruel and from everything we've been able to glean that possibility may not exist, as much as we wish otherwise._

Amelia paused for a moment and cleared her throat as images of the bright, forceful woman Lily Potter had been floated through her mind. She hadn't known the Potters well, but she _had_ known them, and counted them as friends.

 _I don't want to be too detailed in this letter. We have written other letters to you, baby boy. Other letters that are more heartfelt than this one. Letters that tell you all the things we wish we could say to you. Suffice it to say that right now, if you are reading this, then there is more information that you should have, that you need._

 _I left a chest, a small wooden chest with my sister. She's married now to some great oaf of a man and with any luck you have never met them at this point, our wills were clear on that that you should never be raised by them. Now, though, you need to find her. Petunia Dursley is her name. She's your Aunt, and I left the chest with her with several strong compulsion charms on it. Charms that would make her keep it in her possession no matter what happens in her life. She should still have the chest and if you can find her if you ask for it, she'll tell you where it is._

 _Find that chest, Harry. There is information within it that you absolutely must have, as well as several things we would have wanted to share with you in person, if at all possible. Your father had a lot of lessons he wanted to impart. Things he felt was a fathers duty to teach his son. I have left my own lessons for you, and hopefully, something to let you know that you are loved._

 _We do love you, Harry. More than we could ever possibly express in words. There is no language that exists that can properly express the love a parent holds for their child. You were a gift, and a blessing to us, and possible to the rest of the world. Again, I hope this is a silly fear, a pointless endeavor… but if it isn't, and we are gone… live, Harry. Beyond anything else we could teach you, beyond anything else we or anyone could ever tell you, live. Live your life._

 _Find the chest. Use what we have placed inside it. If we have reached this point, then you have a destiny in front of you. Don't be afraid of it. Don't ignore it. Fight, train, learn, grow, and when all is said and done I expect you to live._

 _With all the love I possess,_

 _Mum_

"That little… _idiot_ ," Amelia snarled, setting the letter carefully on the table before she tore or crumpled it in her anger. "That blind little fool. Ooohh… when I get my hands on him he's going to be grounded for the rest of his natural life I swear to Merlin himself!"

"Auntie, do you think he went baaAAAHHH!"

Whatever Susan had been about to say trailed off into a scream of pain as she, Daphne, and Hermione suddenly clutched at their heads, eyes screwed tight in agony.

"Son of a-"

"Daphne!" Hermione ground out, her teeth gritted in pain.

"This is not the time to jump on me for my language, Hermione," the blond snapped back, irritably. "Holy crap that _hurt_."

Amelia eyed the three of the them in concern. "What happened?" she asked once they were able to sit up without wincing.

"Harry… he pushed the link open." Hermione sounded somewhat dazed, her eyes far away as if looking at something that only she could see. Or maybe, Amelia corrected herself with a glance at Daphne and Susan, something only the three of them could see. "It's wider than it's ever been." Hermione glanced back and forth to the girls on either side of her. "You saw it too, right?"

Susan nodded, still holding her head gingerly. "Images. I didn't know the bond could do that."

"I don't think he did it on purpose." Daphne glanced at the look the others were giving her. "Well, yeah, he pushed the link open so far on purpose, but I don't think the images were intentional… that's not important right now." She sat up, still wincing in pain and her cold blue eyes locked onto Amelia's. "Harry is seriously in trouble."

"There's… people with him…" Susan muttered, frowning as she tried to piece together the images.

"Damn, we're seeing through _his_ eyes, he doesn't have his glasses. God he really is blind without those things," Hermione muttered the last almost absently.

"So you can't tell _where_ he is?" Amelia questioned. She grabbed her wand and quietly summoned her Auror badge.

The girls collectively shook their heads. "No," Susan spoke up.

"Without his glasses… it's too blurry to make out the details. Damn we've got to get his eyes checked."

"It seems like there's three people there," Hermione added, ignoring Daphne for the moment. "There's three blurry shapes at least. From the angle… I think Harry's lying on the floor."

That was more than enough for Amelia. Based on the letter they had a possible location and based on the girls information he was being attacked. She tapped her badge with her wand. "This is Director Bones," she said. "Auror Shacklebolt, meet me immediately at Number 4 Privet Drive in Surrey. Bring that new Auror Cadet with you."

She stood and glared at the girls when they made to stand as well. "You're staying here," she snapped. At the looks they gave her she took a deep breath and forced herself to speak as calmly as she could. "This is an official Auror investigation," she told them. "I can't have three school girls come along for the ride. I know you're worried about him and I'll be sure to let you know what's happening as quickly as I can but I cannot let you come with me. None of you can even use magic out of school right now so just… stick together and wait. I'll be back as soon as I can."

She hesitated for the slightest moment before turning and hurrying from the kitchen. A few moments later a loud crack echoed down the fall as she vanished from the manor.

They sat there for several minutes longer before Susan shook herself and pushed to her feet, the chair sliding back from the table as she stood. Grabbing Hermione under her left arm, she took Daphne by her right and pulled them both, unresisting, to their feet and steered them toward the parlor where the largest sofa in the house was located. She pushed the two girls down onto the sofa and took her seat back on Hermione's right side. Sitting close together, their arms coming up to tangle around each other they sought what comfort they could as they waited.

It was another quiet minute before Hermione spoke up. "Remind me to seriously kick his arse when your aunt drags him back here," she muttered in a quiet voice, causing Susan and Daphne to laugh just a little.

"Language, Hermione," Susan teased her and they laughed harder for a moment before settling in to wait. One thing they knew for sure, they were going to pound into Harry's head that if he ever left them behind again, there would be hell to pay.

#####

Harry groaned and rolled to the side when he felt the bite against his skin. He knew that sensation all too well. _Lunatic bitch,_ he mentally groaned. Even though he couldn't see her very well, he knew that Marge had pulled out a collapsible antenna, the kind that one could find on some radios or TV's, and was swinging it at him wildly. It bit into his side twice more before he was able to roll far enough to get out of range, idly noting that he managed to leave most of his button down shirt behind after it had been torn when Marge hauled him from the cupboard.

"Get back here, you little _mongrel_ ," Marge snarled, lumbering her way down the hall toward him. Somewhere, Harry could hear a dog barking and he groaned aloud that time as he realized Ripper was present and accounted for.

 _Should've known she wouldn't leave that little monster somewhere,_ he thought. The antenna whistled past his ear and he flinched away, scrambling to his feet and half stumbling down the hall, his body protesting all the way. A weight slammed into his side, carrying him to the wooden floor and the breath whooshed out of his lungs as something heavy landed on his chest.

"You got my dad in trouble, you stupid freak!"

"Your dad is a piece of shite, Dudley," Harry snarled back doing his best to fend off the ham sized fists that rained down on his chest and face. Harry wrapped his arms around his head, doing his best to protect his face as the blows continued to come fast a furious and a pain his foot told him that Ripper had joined in and was biting his trainer.

 _Please,_ he begged inside his mind, pushing everything he could toward the bond. _I promise I won't run off anymore. I won't be stupid like this again, just please, don't abandon me now._

"Stupefy!"

"Incarcerous!"

"Petrificus totalus!"

Three voices bellowed, nearly in unison and Harry had never felt such relief in his life, a moment later someone shouted another spell and there was a high pitched whimper as Ripper was suddenly yanked away from him, taking Harry's trainer with him as Dudley collapsed bonelessly to the side and two other loud thuds rang through the house.

"Auror Cadet Tonks, over here!" Amelia shouted and he could have burst into tears in relief as her blurred form came into view above him, her red hair like a burning halo around her head in his vision.

Another shape came into view topped with shocking bubble gum pink hair and both forms kneeled down on either side of him.

"… sorry. I'm sorry. I won't do it again, I swear. Please, I'm so sorry…" Harry finally realized that he could hear a voice muttering a near constant stream of promises and apologies and clamped his teeth shut when he recognized his own voice.

"It's all right, Harry. Please, just calm down," Amelia told him, one hand brushing back the fringe of hair across his forehead in a gentle gesture completely at odds with her firm tone. "The girls and I aren't happy with you, but we'll work it out, okay?"

He hesitated but nodded slowly.

"Blimey. You're Harry Potter!"

Harry turned his head, taking in the form on his right, dressed in solid white with that bright pink crown on top that suddenly shifted to a neon blue before switching back to pink again.

"Auror Cadet, there won't be a single word of this spoken to anybody, understood?"

"Director… all these scars… it's Harry bleedin' _Potter_. What the hell happened?"

Harry flinched, remembering that he was only barely still wearing the button down shirt and the wife beater he had underneath it did absolutely nothing to hide many of his scars. He shifted, pressing his left forearm against his stomach in an attempt to hide it.

"I know exactly who it is, Auror Cadet," Amelia snapped sharply. "And I know that if you have any aspirations of graduating with your class you aren't going to say a single word about this to _anyone_ are you?"

"No Ma'am, absolutely not," the other shape blurted out straightening up quickly to a strange form of attention while still kneeling on the ground next to Harry. "I'm sorry Director I was just… shocked."

"Understandable, Cadet. Right now I need your help. I need you to try to make Harry as comfortable as possible, for now. We're going to be here for a little while and I'd like to do what we can to limit his pain."

"Director, I was the top in my class in Battlefield Medicine last week, shouldn't I try to alleviate some of these injuries?"

"I'd prefer it, honestly. But we're chucking these… _people_ ," Amelia practically snarled the last word, "to the muggle authorities. They won't really be able to do a lot unless he's got injuries for them to photograph so we'll have to wait a bit to heal him up."

Amelia leaned down and spoke quietly to Harry. "I'm sorry Harry," she muttered. "I really wish we could just take care of these injuries but we need to wait for a little while."

He nodded, exhausted. "I understand," he muttered.

She leaned down further until her eyes were in better focus and Harry stared into the deep blue, clearly able to see the concern she held in her gaze. "I'll be right back. Shacklebolt and I are going to round these three up, the muggle Police should already be on their way, okay?"

He nodded and mumbled his agreement and a moment later she pulled back and stood, vanishing quickly from his view as she moved over to deal with the Durselys.

Beside him, the lady with the pink hair, Tonks, was already waving her wand around him and muttering under her breath. Within moments he'd been levitated to the nearby sofa and divested of the tattered remains of his button down shirt. Harry could practically feel her eyes on him, painfully aware of the scars that were exposed due to his wife beater.

"Please, don't stare," he muttered and the pink topped blob that he could see standing nearby jumped and she stumbled, nearly falling over in her surprise.

"Er… sorry about that, Mister Potter," she stammered out. "I didn't mean to it's just…"

He sighed when she trailed off, uncertainly, and closed his eyes. "I know," he said. "And it's just Harry." He winced as a stabbing pain shot through his ribs where Marge had kicked him. He didn't _think_ any of his ribs were cracked or broken, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

"Harry?"

He opened his eyes again. Another blob had joined the Auror Cadet, this one topped with a shocking red color and he matched the voice to the blur he was able to make out. "Amelia? What is it?"

"I'm sorry to say that we invaded your privacy a little bit, and we'll talk about that later, but for right now, I read that letter that Gringotts forwarded to you from your vault. It said for you to ask your aunt about the chest. I asked, but she doesn't seem to know what I'm talking about. Considering the compulsion, and the wording of the letter, I think it might be keyed to you. You feel up to asking her if I bring her over here before the Police get here?"

His expression hardened, his eyes more brilliant than ever without his glasses in the way. "Absolutely," he bit out and Amelia smiled, unseen by the young wizard.

"All right. Give me a moment and I'll drag her over here…"

#####

Hermione's head snapped up, something disturbing her less than restful doze, and she looked around, bleary eyed and a little confused. A glance at the window told her that it had to be at least early evening. She lying in the middle of Susan's bed, Susan and Daphne on either side of her, their arms still wrapped tightly around each other.

She wasn't sure when they'd fallen asleep, honestly wasn't even sure when they'd moved to the bed from the sofa downstairs, but it had been several hours after Amelia had left, at least, as far as she could remember. Now, if she could just figure out what had disturbed her sleep…

She sat up sharply a moment later when a chime sounded throughout the house, disturbing the other two girls in the bed and they came awake, sitting up and rubbing their eyes.

"Her-Hermione?" Susan stammered around a jaw cracking yawn. "What is it?"

The chime sounded again and all three girls were instantly awake. There was a moment where they were utterly still, followed quickly by an explosion of motion as they scrambled out of the bed and bolted for the door. Their feet carried them quickly into the hall and down the stairs toward the sitting room where they arrive just in time to see a woman wearing the solid white robes of an Auror Cadet with bright pink spiked up hair helping Harry into the room and leading him over to sit on the small love seat.

The girls rushed into the room, ignoring the woman for the moment as they approached Harry. He'd just settled into the seat, a small wooden chest cradled protectively under one arm when they lit into him.

"What in the blazes where you thinking?"

"I'd have thought you'd have gotten this out of your system by now," Susan declared just behind Hermione while Daphne chose to remain silent and simply glared at their bonded.

He looked at them, eyes squinted almost closed as he moved his head back and forth from one to the other for a moment before he suddenly snorted out a strangled sounding laugh.

"This is _not_ funny, Potter!" Daphne snapped, suddenly unwilling to maintain her silence in the face of Harry actually _laughing_ at their concern. She could feel the other girls bristling angrily as well when he held up both hands, the chest set on the seat next to him.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry, you're right, it isn't funny. But that's not why I was laughing."

"Then why, Harry?" Hermione demanded.

"Well, I just suddenly thought that it's a really good thing all three of you have such different hair colors. Even without my glasses, at least I can tell by the color which blob is which."

Much of their immediate anger bled away into surprise as they realized that he was, in fact, not wearing his glasses. They quickly shoved aside the recurring thought of how much… _brighter_ his already brilliantly colored eyes looked without his glasses to distract from them, and focused back on the initial reason for their ire. It was actually a rather simple task, considering the times they'd noted it before was because he was in the hospital wing.

"What happened to your glasses?"

"Completely destroyed," the pink haired woman informed them, speaking up for the first time since they'd entered the room. "We found the remains but they were so mangled not even a reparo could do anything with them. He's going to be blind as a bat until he can get a new pair."

"I'm sorry, you are?" Susan asked, her tone polite, but slightly strained.

"Auror Cadet Tonks. Your Aunt had me Aparrate in with Harry here after we rescued him from his crazy aunts house. She and Auror Shacklebolt are somewhere else in the house going over the report they're going to submit."

"Does there really have to be a report?" Harry half whined, sinking back on the seat.

"Yes, there does. Since the Director called in an active, on duty Auror, there's no choice, it's seen as official Auror business and reports have to be filed for all Auror actions."

He sighed and sank further into his seat, sulking slightly, but momentarily pleased that he _could_ slump in the love seat as he was. Tonks really was quite good at battlefield medical spells. He didn't even get a twinge of pain from his ribs despite his odd contortions.

"Thank you, very much, Cadet," Susan said. "We really appreciate you helping to keep this idiot in one piece."

"Speaking of," Tonks started, a truly evil grin spreading on her lips and Harry winced at the tone in her voice. "Director Bones asked me to stand watch here to protect Harry, if necessary."

The girls blinked again and stared at her. "Why would you need to protect him here?" Hermione asked.

"Because the Director wanted me to detail his injuries and what happened overnight to you young ladies. She decided it should be part of his punishment for running off the way he did and I'm to make sure that you don't do anything… untoward after hearing what he got himself into."

The girls quickly found seats and Susan motioned for Tonks to make herself comfortable. "Please, Cadet Tonks. Tell us _all_ about it."

Ten minutes later, Amelia walked into the room with Kingsley behind her to find the girls glaring at Harry who was trying to make himself as small as possible on the love seat while Tonks was snorting and laughing at the pained expression on the boys face.

"I take it Cadet Tonks has informed you what happened?" Amelia asked, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"Oh, yes," Hermione spoke up in a dangerous tone, her eyes narrowed at Harry along with the girls on either side of her. "She gave us the full story."

"I _had_ to go see about the chest," Harry tried to protest, clutching the small chest next to him with one hand. "My mum left it for me…"

"We understand that, Harry," Daphne said, deciding it was her turn to try to get through to him. "But you have got to, absolutely _got_ to get past this idea that you have to do everything alone. You tried to leave us behind at first, the night we went after the stone. During that you eventually _did_ find a way to get away from us. This time you left _all_ of us behind, including the head of the DMLE! Do you honestly think that it wouldn't have been better for you to have Amelia with you when you went to find out about it?"

Harry sullenly shook his head, his eyes squinted in the blond blobs direction. His narrowed eyes made him look angry, but they were able to tell through their bond that it was just his lack of glasses.

"Cadet Tonks?" Amelia asked, interrupting the discussion. "Thank you, for your assistance today, I really do appreciate it and I'll be sure to let your instructors know how well you performed. I do have something else I'd like to talk to you about, however. Let's talk while I escort you to the Floo."

"It was nice meeting you, Mister Potter," Tonks said, waving as she stood and followed the Director from the room.

Once they were gone, the four children fell silent. Hermione, Susan, and Daphne were trying to get a handle on their feelings regarding the situation. They were really getting tired of Harry taking off on his own. Harry, in turn, was feeling just slightly put out by everyone's reactions, but also was beginning to understand that he really did need to keep more aware that he didn't have to do everything himself.

' _ **Brek!**_ '

The four of them glanced up as Hedwig flew into the room, circled once near the ceiling, then came in to land on Harry's shoulder. She nipped at his ear, hard, and he jumped and turned his head to her. Deep golden eyes peered into emerald green from a space of barely an inch away.

Hedwig barked at him several more times, sounding incredibly irate for an owl and Harry held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"I know!" he burst out. "I'm sorry, I just reacted. I'm _used_ to dealing with things on my own."

' _ **Brek!**_ ' she barked and suddenly jerked forward, pecking his forehead right between his eyes.

"OW! Dammit, Hedwig."

She pecked him again.

"I said I'm sorry!"

She turned and spread her wings, cuffing him on the side of the head before turning back and glaring into his eyes again.

' _ **Brek-cek brek'**_

He didn't say anything, just stared with wide, almost fearful eyes as she continued to glare at him. A moment later her head started to move forward, as if to peck him again, and he leaned away as best he could, quickly blurting out, "Okay, I won't do it again!"

She stopped, studying him intently for several long moments before she straightened up and turned so that she was perched more naturally on his shoulder and rubbed her head against his cheek before she started preening his hair with her beak.

Harry sat there and fumed, silently, as the girls and Amelia, who had walked back into the room right about the time that Hedwig had pecked him for the second time, all suddenly broke down into hysterical fits of laughter.

Harry grumbled under his breath but dutifully responded when Hedwig started to walk her way down his arm, poking at various parts of his body with her beak as she went.

"Shoulder was bruised," he told her when she tapped it with her beak. "Ribs were bruised as well, but none of them cracked or broken," he added as she moved down his arm, barking quietly at him all the while. She hesitated and jabbed his ribs a second time, a little harder, causing him to jump. "Okay, I had some cuts on that side too, but they're all healed, even the bruising is almost gone it wasn't deep so no need for a bruise salve."

She glared at him again for a moment before she seemed satisfied and moved back up to his shoulder. She puffed up her feathers and settled herself comfortably, preening his hair again with an extremely self satisfied air about her.

"Thank you, Hedwig," Amelia said, still chuckling quietly as she moved over to a chair. "I'm not sure any of us could have gotten through to him quite so effectively." The girls laughed again and Harry grumbled under his breath, rubbing gingerly at his forehead where Hedwig had pecked him.

"Oh, quit grumbling. You know you earned that."

Harry glared at Amelia, as best he could, but said nothing to dispute her claim.

The five of them settled into silence for a moment while Hedwig settled in more comfortably on Harry's shoulder. Eventually, Amelia spoke up. "All right," she said. "We've had a bit of a rough day, and a certain individual was largely responsible for it."

The girls glared at Harry who shrank in on himself even though he couldn't make out their expressions. The feelings coming through their bond was more than enough to tell him what to expect from them.

"All that aside though, I think there's a few things we need to discuss."

"Like what, Amelia?" Hermione asked. She sat up straighter in her seat, her fingers twitching and Daphne chuckled quietly, setting her hand over the other girls.

"You're not going to need to take notes, Hermione," she said, and Susan laughed quietly when Hermione pouted just slightly.

"No, no notes required. But we've got a couple things to discuss and then I think it's time to eat something and head to bed. Agreed?"

There were no arguments from the children present so she gathered her thoughts and dove right in. "First of all. That chest, Harry. I know you want to open it, but I think you may have to wait until after we get your glasses replaced. I cantake you into Diagon Alley tomorrow, there's a magical Optometrist that has an office off one of the side alley's that we could go to."

"I'll have to go to Gringott's first," Harry said, considering the situation. "I don't know how much wizarding funds I have on hand."

Amelia shook her head at that. "No, I'll be paying for your glasses," she informed him and then kept speaking over him when he tried to protest. "Harry, at present I am still your guardian. Your physical needs and care are my responsibility in that role. So I will be paying for your glasses and you do not owe me in any way for doing so."

She eyed him for a moment before continuing, her tone gentler. "That's what parents and guardians are supposed to do, Harry. I know that hasn't been your experience, but if I do nothing else I intend to teach you what such a relationship should be like. Right now, you are my responsibility. So I _will_ be taking responsibility for your immediate needs. I know you can more than afford it, but that isn't the point. Do you understand me?"

Harry didn't answer at first. He thought, instead. He took a moment, and a deep breath, and considered what Amelia had said until he finally nodded his assent. "Okay," he said. "Thank you."

The girls shared a smile between them, pleased to see more of the walls around Harry Potter coming down.

"That all being said, you did still do something that you shouldn't have done. So there has to be some kind of punishment in regards to that." Amelia winced when Harry immediately stiffened up at those words. "And no, that will be absolutely nothing like what you're used to, Harry. Remember your first day here. We had an entire conversation about acceptable and unacceptable behavior and actions. You _need_ to start understanding that you can't do everything yourself. And this, in particular, sneaking out of the house, actively disabling the charm on the Floo that tell's the household that it's being used? Harry you left the house vulnerable. Not severely, of course, the wards are still up. But by shutting off what is a security measure on the Floo… that requires a response. And I've talked it over with Healer Gant and I think we've come up with a workable solution.

"You'll remember, that Gant gave you a list of things he wanted you to work on?"

Harry nodded.

"Spending time with the girls, working on your Occlumency, things like that?"

"Yes, he did. And I've been keeping up with most of those," Harry pointed out, reaching up idly to stroke Hedwig's feathers where she still stood on his shoulder.

"Most, but not all. One of those listed items was a recommendation for a physical exercise regimen. Cadet Tonks graduated last year from Hogwarts. She's only a little over a month into the cadet training but she's shown considerable promise. Glowing recommendations from all her trainers. I've spoken with her, and as part of her training for field work, to a degree, she'll be coming around the house until school starts up again every morning to put you through your exercises. That will be your punishment for this little debacle _and_ will serve to get you working on that routine that the healer recommended for you."

She let her gaze sweep over all four kids. "There's one other thing that's been on my mind since this morning. Just before we looked at your mother's letter, which I apologize for, again, the girls said that you pushed the link to them open further than it's ever been."

Harry nodded. "I didn't know what else to do," he muttered. "I'm sorry I just… I went over there, confident that I could handle it. I mean, I can use magic out of school since I'm Lord Potter. I didn't count on being blindsided."

"Which is something we'll address. But the question that I have is, what does this mean for you all now?"

The four of them blinked, surprised by the question before falling into a thoughtful silence.

"You've shared emotions so far with a limited connection, so it sounds like. Is the link still open wider than it was before? And with that wider link, what does it mean? Is it going to have any side effects that you need to be aware of?" Amelia sighed and leaned back in her seat. "I think that every day, you should spend some time discussing this and try to find out if anything else is going to come of this new aspect to your bond. You don't want to be caught on the back foot by any surprises down the road."

"The link _feels_ the same," Susan spoke up, her eyes closed as she searched for the connection in her mind. "I can see it. The link coming from Harry really _is_ much wider. But it doesn't really seem to be doing anything different, at the moment at least."

"That's what you'll need to figure out." Amelia clapped her hands and pushed herself to her feet. "Well, that was all I really wanted to say. Your Hogwarts letters all arrived today, by the way. So, girls, you'll be coming with to the Alley tomorrow morning. We'll get Harry his glasses then we can get all your school supplies covered and squared away."

"I'll head home then and tell my parents about it," Hermione said as she also stood. "I think they wanted to join us if they could and they'll need to make sure their practice is covered."

She quickly crossed the room and pulled Harry up off his seat and into a hug as Hedwig launched herself into the air and settled on the back of a chair instead.

"You scared us," she whispered into his ear. "Stop doing that."

Harry carefully hugged her back, still somewhat awkward with the displays of affection, but slowly improving. "I didn't mean to," he murmured, "and I can't promise nothing of the kind'll ever happen again. But I promise to try harder and to keep in mind I can count on all of you too." It'd been a painful lesson, but one Harry fully intended to take to heart.

"See that you do," she admonished him, drawing back to look into his eyes. They were so close together he could clearly make out the cinnamon brown of her eyes and the worry shining clearly through her gaze and simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

She gave him another quick hug before she made her way around the room, hugging Daphne, Susan, and Amelia in turn. Eventually she reached Hedwig and gently stroked the owls head.

"Thank you for smacking him around some," she said. "He really needed it."

Susan and Daphne snorted a laugh and waved their goodbyes as Hermione left the room. A minute later the chime for the Floo rang throughout the house and Harry winced as he thought about what Amelia had said. Shutting off that chime really _hadn't_ been his smartest move. But he'd seen no other way around it. And he really needed to change his way of thinking.

The remaining people in the house made their way into the kitchen for a light meal that Binky happily provided and eventually Harry found himself being led to his room. Susan and Daphne both hugged him and retreated into Susan's room, leaving him alone with Amelia in the hall outside his door.

"Can you manage from here?" she asked and he nodded.

"Yeah, my eyesights bad but I can at least get into bed on my own." He hesitated for a moment before drawing up his nerve and forging ahead. "I'm sorry," he said. "I really didn't mean for any of this to happen it's just…"

Amelia placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I get being self reliant, Harry. I really do. But there's a difference between self reliant and fool hardy. You've got to learn when to ask for help. We're willing to help. I might not have been able to go yesterday, or today with work, who knows. But if you'd asked I'd have done my best to arrange things and I'd have given you a day and time when I'd be available to go with you."

"I didn't want to put you out-"

"No," she cut him off with a stern glare she wished he could actually see. "You need to stop that line of thinking, right now, young man. I took you in as your guardian willingly. I like you, Harry. You're a good kid. You've got a strong moral code that I can completely agree with and you're determined to protect the people you care about. You're a warrior, to me, plain and simple. But I've known a lot of warriors over the years. And to the man they're damaged. They tried to do too much themselves and wouldn't rely on other people to help them. One of them, a man I respect a great deal, is missing an eye and a leg and his face is so scarred he actually scares young children just by his appearance. He's paranoid and doesn't trust _anyone_ and I do not want to see you walking that same road. I can see it so easily happening with you, Harry so… please… just try to remember that there are people here willing to help.

"I feel like I'm repeating myself a lot with you on these issues, but don't ever think you're an imposition of inconvenience. No, I won't always have time to address any little thing. But if something is important, like this was, bring it to me, we'll work something out, understood?"

He sighed and nodded. "I do. I get it and I promise, I'll try harder."

Amelia smiled and pulled him into a hug herself. "That's all we can ask, Harry. Just do your best and that'll always be enough." She pulled back and held him at arms length, her hands on his shoulders. "All right, it's getting late so get to bed. We'll have an early start in the morning. Call for Binky when you wake up, okay? He'll set out some clothes for you so you don't have to go fumbling blind through your closet, okay?"

"Okay," he said and nodded, flashing her a small grin before he stepped into his room and closed the door behind him. He leaned against it for a moment, heaving out a small sigh and closed his eyes. His bruises and cuts were healed, but his body still ached. Not nearly as bad as it had, of course, but even magic didn't remove all the pains instantly. It would take a good day or so until he felt back to one hundred percent, but he figured it was a small price to pay for what he'd potentially gained.

He moved toward his bed, pulling off the new button down shirt that Amelia had conjured for him before leaving the Dursleys and dropped it on the floor. Falling face first into his bed be fought his way under the covers and sank into his pillow, asleep within moments.

#####

"Director, reports indicate subject White King has been rescued with minimal damage."

Director Croaker looked up from his continued observation of the hourglass on his desk to regard Sable carefully.

"Did any of our people have to intervene?"

"No, Director. Subject Red Queen apparently discovered his location on her own and came to rescue with a senior Auror and an Auror Cadet with her. Subject White King's objective for approaching the house was also apparently achieved at that time."

"Very good, anything else I need to be made aware of."

Sable hesitated for a moment, something that immediately grabbed the Director's attention and the hourglass was subsequently forgotten as he focused entirely on his old friend.

"What is it, Sable?" he asked.

"The observation team at the room has reported a change on the Tree."

Croaker stood and stepped around his desk, motioning for Sable to follow as he threw open the door and strode out into the hall.

"What kind of change?" he asked as he walked, Sable trailing along behind him.

"The lines have changed just slightly. It isn't a large shift, but noticeable, and none of us have any clue what it indicates at this time."

Croaker nodded and kept walking until they reached the door. With a gesture from Sable the Unspeakables guarding the door opened it quickly and stepped aside as the Director swept past without even breaking stride. He stepped into the room and turned immediately toward the wall housing the Family Tree and carefully studied the lines connecting the four most fascinating individuals in all of Wizarding Britain, as far as the Department of mysteries was concerned.

At first glance, Croaker wasn't sure what Sable was talking about. The Name Harry James Potter was still connected to three witches with a gleaming gold line etched into the dark grey stone of the wall. Those witches were connected to each other, also with a bright gold line.

It wasn't until he studied the lines themselves more closely that he noticed the difference. The lines connecting the young Lord Potter's name to the three girls was thicker than the others. Thicker than it had been before too by nearly half again the previous width.

"Ideas?"

"There's some debate. Some feel it has to do with the individuals, some think it might be a deepening of the bond. In any case something about the bond itself has changed, slightly. At this point there's no way to tell what effect, if any, it will have on the subjects. There's also nothing to indicate if this change is beneficial, benign, or malignant in nature."

"A bond like this can't be malignant, by its very nature there's no way the bond itself could be harmful to them."

"Unless they do something stupid and mess with the bond somehow."

"Do we know if anything like this has ever happened with any of the previously recorded bonds?" Croaker asked, studying the various lines.

Sable shook their head beneath their hood. "Not that we are aware of. We still haven't found the record of the last bond. We know it's there, but for some reason no one has been able to locate it."

Croaker cursed. "This is why I've been saying we need to have this wall adjusted so we can view back along the tree to those people no longer living."

"Indeed, Director. At present, all we have available is those reports and records written by past Unspeakables. The Archives are extensive, as you know, and it could take some time to sift through them to find what we're looking for."

Croaker cursed under his breath and glared at the wall, as if he could subdue it through the heat of his gaze alone into giving up its secrets.

"Keep observation on all subjects and continue monitoring this room. I want to know the instant anything changes in any way. We're not going to miss any opportunity to study this. The workings of the soul are still so poorly understood and I'm not going to be remembered as the Director that squandered such a brilliant opportunity."

"Understood, Director."

The two figures left the room and the door swung closed behind them moments later. Behind them, in the now empty room beneath the Ministry of Magic the gleaming golden lines slashed so brightly across the dark wall, pulsed slowly as a steady glow emanated from them.


	19. Lockhart, Dobby, and Offers

**Authors Note: Sorry this one took a while, gang. My keyboard decided to die on me and it took a little while to get a new one figured out and working properly. Been hammering away the last couple day's trying to get things together to post up for you guys. This chapter will be the last for the summer holidays. At the start of the next chapter we'll be on our way back to Hogwarts for an exciting second year at school.**

 **I plan on going further afield of the cannon in some respects with this year, as I've mentioned before. It'll stick to the same general storyline for the most part but there will be some vast changes throughout the year on several different aspects of the story. We're also going to get to know a few characters much earlier with this than happened in the cannon. I'm hoping to do things justice and still keep an entertaining story with some twists and turns thrown in to keep everything fresh and interesting.**

 **Disclaimer: As always I do not own anything related to the Harry Potter franchise. These things belong to people far more skilled and wealthy than I.**

 **Quick note. There's a scene in here with Harry getting offers by letter from families wanting to take over as his guardian. T** **he general idea for that I saw in another fantastic story Whispers in the Night by Jean11089.**

 **s/12104688/1/Whispers-in-the-Night**

 **There is the url. for her story. Give it a read. It's another great fic with an overly abused Harry and at it's current point I believe they're heading into fifth year at Hogwarts. The author is doing a fantastic job and I wait eagerly for her next post.**

 **Here we go with Soul Scars Chapter 18!**

Soul Scars Part Two

Darkness Within

By,

Rtnwriter

Hermione Granger didn't typically wake slowly. She used an alarm at home out of habit, but she'd long developed her internal clock to wake her at the same time every day and when she woke she went from asleep to awake in the time it took her to open her eyes. Rare was it when she was groggy after waking, even if she still felt physically tired.

The day after Harry's rescue from his disastrous attempt to retrieve the chest left for him by his mother was no exception. Her alarm rang at six in the morning and her arm swung out, slapping to top of it to silence the annoying buzzing sound as she sat up and stretched languidly. She sat for a moment, her mind already at work organizing her expected itinerary for the day.

Get up, shower, change, brush teeth.

Breakfast with her parents (who had been able to rearrange their schedule for the day so that they would be accompanying her and the others to the Alley for their school supplies.)

Head to the Leaky Cauldron with her parents to meet her friends.

Hug Harry.

Hug Daphne and Susan.

The rest was somewhat up in the air.

With those thoughts firmly in mind she set about the first tasks on her mental list, showering quickly and moving back into her bedroom with a towel wrapped around her body and her hair wrapped in a second towel to keep it off her neck and to dry it. Pulling open her closet door she pulled out the clothes she'd decided on for the day and set them aside before continuing with the morning ritual she'd started years ago and had even continued at Hogwarts, even after she knew it wasn't necessary anymore.

She stood inside her large closet staring at the full length mirror affixed to the back of the door and slowly unwrapped the towel around her body before she let it fall to the floor and began a careful inspection of her body. She counted in her head as she inspected every scar and when she finished with her front she turned and used a second mirror to inspect her back.

As best she could tell there were no new scars that had shown up in the night leaving her with the same number that'd been there since the day she left for Hogwarts.

"One hundred and forty-eight," she whispered to herself as she turned back to face the mirror again. She found it amazing that, with the number of times Harry had ended up in the hospital wing last year, and with facing Quirrell and Voldemort, somehow he hadn't added a single new scar to their collection through all of that. The scars that had appeared on their sides the day before when Harry was getting whipped had vanished when Tonks healed his injuries.

She had no illusions that she was nearly as pretty as Daphne or Susan or even any number of other girls in the school. She hated her front teeth, slightly larger than she would like and with just enough of an overbite as to be noticeable. Her hair was wild and untamable no matter what she tried, though she consoled herself with the thought that it was something else she and Harry had in common with his own unruly mop of hair that seemed to mock any attempts to control it.

Her hands, face, and part of her neck were a darker tone than the rest of her skin, she noted, not for the first time. Daphne and Susan had told her about the glamour idea to hid their scars and she'd been thrilled at the idea of being able to work on a tan. She loved swimming and the feeling of the sun on her skin, but had been limited in her ability to do so.

She felt that she was too pale and cursed that she had to keep completely covered at all times. Oh, she didn't blame Harry for the scars that she kept hidden. She blamed the monsters that he'd been forced to live with. She blamed whoever sent him to live there. She _really_ wanted to get her hands on whoever had made that particular decision but she shoved those thoughts aside and continued her inspection.

She was the oldest in her year group, her birthday being in the middle of September, so while most of her classmates were just entering their twelfth year, she was approaching thirteen, and she was pleased to notice her body beginning to develop apace for her age. She turned sideways and inspected her profile with a satisfied nod. Yes, she just might need to talk to her mother, it seemed a training bra might be added to her school wardrobe this year.

Susan was already more developed than she was, even being a few months younger, but late night discussions at the Boneyard had revealed that to be a fairly normal thing for the women in the Bones family, and strangely, she still felt no hint of jealousy for her or Daphne despite feeling that both were prettier than she was.

Hermione shook those thoughts aside, glanced at the time, and winced slightly, realizing she'd taken longer in her morning inspection than she usually did. Counting scars took longer and longer each morning when new scars would sometimes appear overnight but she'd gotten lost in the consideration of her growing development from girl into someone on the cusp of being a teenager, which had taken the lions share of the time she'd used up.

She scurried out of the closet, leaving her towel on the floor and practically jumped into her clothes. A simple set of pale pink knickers and light colored knee high socks. A light, flowing skirt was pulled up over her hips that hung to mid calf and a light blouse with wrist length sleeves and she was ready to go, once she wrestled her hair into some semblance of neatness. She brushed it out quickly, still damp and already forming into its usual curls that framed her face and cascaded down to the small of her back. Deciding to leave it loose she stepped into a pair of black flats and hurried downstairs and into the dining room where her parents and breakfast were already waiting for her.

"Morning Mum, morning Daddy," she said as she slipped into a chair and picked up her fork.

"Morning, sweetheart," her father said, smiling at her over the rim of his coffee mug. "Excited about today's trip?" he asked and Hermione nodded, quickly chewing the eggs in her mouth and swallowing before she replied.

"Absolutely. I took a look through the book list and the new defense texts look fascinating. I really want to work on my defense skills this year."

"So you can help Harry with these adventures he seems to get into or because you're annoyed he scored better than you in that class?" Emma asked with a smile to take the bite out of the words.

"Hey, Harry earned his defense scores. I'm really proud of him," she tried to defend herself.

"But you're still annoyed there's a class you're not at the top of," Dan pointed out, his lips curled into a wide grin.

Hermione scowled at both her parents and pointedly ignored them when they started chuckling quietly to themselves. Eventually, they settled down and the three of them turned to lighter topics while they finished their breakfast. Hermione was so distracted that she didn't notice the way her mother was eyeing her and was surprised when she suggested an extra stop on their way to the Leaky Cauldron.

"I don't understand why you're upset," Emma was saying as they crossed Charing Cross Road toward the dingy little pub. "I would think you would be excited."

"Normally I would be," Hermione admitted. "But not with my dad along for the trip."

"Don't drag me into this," Dan objected, his hands held up in surrender. "I am going to firmly pretend that you're still my little ten-year-old baby girl until the day I die. I would much rather not face the fact that you're growing up a lot faster than I would like."

Hermione groaned and dropped her face into her hands. "Can we please just go in?" she begged. "I'm sure the others are waiting for us by now." Her parents grinned at her back as she stalked off, her posture stiff and somewhat defensive.

Inside the pub, the did indeed find Susan and Daphne waiting at one of the tables, bottles of butter beer in front of them and talking quietly with Neville and Blaise Zabini of all people. Hermione considered the Slytherin student as she made her way across the pub, her parents trailing along behind her.

Blaise hadn't made much of his presence in the study sessions at the Library after Tracey had introduced him just before Christmas the precious year. He'd been present for most of them, and she'd found him to have a sharp wit and a keen mind that she enjoyed challenging with debates on carious aspects of their school work.

But other than studying with them, he'd not spoken to any of them out of class or in the halls, save for Tracey, and had made no effort at all to be friendly toward them in any way. Not that he'd been hostile, but outside of studying, it was as if they didn't exist in the Italian boys eyes.

"Hey, Hermione," Neville called out when she was still couple of tables away and the rest of them turned to greet her. Daphne and Susan stood and hugged her, hugs when she returned wholeheartedly. Neville didn't seem to know quite what to do when he stood to greet her. He'd started to offer a hand to shake but had paused and was fluctuating indecisively when she solved the problem by pulling him into a hug.

"Oh, honestly, Neville," she admonished him, a bright smile on her face. "I think we know each other well enough by now that a hug is appropriate."

He chuckled ruefully and shook his head, a smile creeping onto his face. "Yeah, you'd think I'd know better by now, huh?"

Blaise stepped forward and offered his hand. "Granger," he said, taking her hand and lightly kissing the back of it as he bowed low at the waist. "It's nice to see you outside of class."

"Good to see you, too, Blaise," she returned, flushing slightly and turned to motion to her parents, ignorant of how both Susan and Daphne bristled and glared heatedly at Blaise. "These are my parents," Hermione said, introducing them and was pleased when Blaise greeted them both politely, shaking her fathers hand and kissing her mothers as he'd done with Hermione.

"It is an honor to meet you both," he said after he straightened up and released Emma's hand. They chatted for a few more minutes before Hermione looked around the pub curiously.

"Where are Harry and your aunt?" she asked Susan who shrugged.

"Auntie decided to take Harry to get his glasses squared away before anything else and figured we'd be better waiting here to keep an eye out for you. They'll meet us here when they're done."

"We're here."

The group as a whole turned to face the sound of Harry's voice to find him and Amelia wending their way through the crowded pub toward them, and the vast majority of the small group gaped openly as they came closer.

"That bad, huh?" Harry asked, shifting nervously and with a crooked grin in place as he observed their reactions. His brilliant green eyes regarded them carefully, completely exposed by a distinct lack of glasses perched on his nose.

Hermione recovered first of the girls and shook her head sharply, her hair bouncing with the action.

"No, not at all," she said. "We're just surprised."

Surprised was an understatement. The night before, it'd been startling to see him without his glasses, but they'd been too annoyed with him and his actions to truly appreciate just how startling his green age was without his glasses to detract from them. Added to that his squinting, trying to see them, had further served to temper their initial reactions. Now, with nothing in the way, and his eyes clearly open and fixed wholly on her, Hermione was finding herself more and more hypnotized by his intense stare.

That was something that all three girls had always found very attractive about one Harry James Potter. When he looked at them, he wasn't just looking to acknowledge that he was paying attention when they spoke. No. When he looked at them, it was clear that they had his full and undivided attention and that touched something deep inside that they couldn't quite identify.

 _Crap, we're going to be in a lot of trouble when we get older,_ Hermione thought, shaken from her daze when Neville stepped between them and Harry to greet his friend. The boys smiled and shook hands, Blaise stepping forward as well to say hello. They discussed their summers thus far for a few minutes, all the children contributing to the discussion as the girls got ahold of themselves and were able to track the discussion.

"I told you the contacts would be a good idea," Amelia murmured into Harry's ear some minutes later as the group finally started to make their way into the Alley. "You have very pretty eyes, Harry, and it was a shame to keep them hidden behind those awful glasses."

Harry merely flushed brightly at the compliment and said nothing as they stepped through the archway and quickly set about their shopping.

#####

"What is going on?" Neville asked, staring in bemusement at the large crowd lined up outside of Flourish and Blotts. The book store had never been so busy before and he couldn't begin to wrap his brain around why the sudden surge of patronage.

Harry shrugged and craned his neck, trying to see past some of the crowd from their place in the long line.

"No idea, Mate," he said, settling back on his heels and shrugging again, this time in defeat.

"Gilderoy Lockhart-"

"-Is signing copies of-"

"-His autobiography-"

"Magical Me!"

Harry groaned aloud, trying to prevent the grin that automatically wanted to spring onto his face and turned to face the Weasley twins. There was no one else that could pull off the back and forth double speak as well as they could. They'd even spoke the final line in perfect unison and they stepped forward when he turned around, each with a hand outstretched.

One grabbed Harry's right hand while the other grabbed his left and they pumped his arms up and down, shaking his hands quite vigorously until Harry was laughing hysterically at the antics.

"Great to see you, old boy," one said.

"Absolutely spiffing," said the other.

"And with your usual entourage."

They suddenly released Harry and greeted Neville similarly before moving onto hugging each of the girls, until they reached Daphne, who fixed them both with such an icy glare that they paled dramatically and stepped back without hugging the blond witch.

"Right scary, that one, Mate," one of them muttered to Harry.

"That she is, but we like her."

Harry noted the small smile Daphne gave him at those words while the rest of the extended Weasley clan approached. At least, Harry hoped it was the rest, as he took in the small army of redheads.

"Jeez, how many of you guys are there?" Harry asked.

"Oh, there's a few more," Ron muttered, coming to a stop near them. Our oldest brothers Bill and Charlie work out of the country. Bill is in Egypt and Charlie works on a dragon preserve in Romania."

The line moved slowly while the large group chatted amongst themselves. Ron was casting suspicious glares in Blaise's direction, who admirably ignored the lanky redhead. Mister Weasley seemed to be an excitable fellow and was pestering Hermione's parents with questing after question about all things muggle. Some of the questions nearly caused Harry to laugh out loud but he managed to hold it in and when Hermione noticed the mirth in his face she smiled and bumped him with her shoulder.

Missus Weasley kept fussing with her hair and looked a bit flushed. One of the twins leaned down and whispered in Harry's ear, "we think mum fancies the Lockhart git," he said. "Any witch that brings him up always goes on about how handsome he is."

The level of disgust in the whispered tone impressed Harry but he shrugged it off and continued forward until they were a few patrons away from the door.

A short, irritable looking man, carrying a large black camera, shoved his way through the crowd and cut through the line, pushing his way toward the door.

"Oi!" Harry yelled when a small blond girl was pushed out of the way and would have fallen to the hard stones beneath their feet if Harry hadn't quickly stepped forward and caught her with an arm around her waist. "Watch it," he snapped at the man who ignored him and the girl and disappeared into the shop past a harried looking worker who was doing his best at crowd control.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, helping the girl get her feet under her.

"Just fine, Harry Potter, thank you," she said in a light, breezy sort of tone and looked up at him. She was very small, probably about the size Harry himself had been last year when he'd started school, but she was just tiny, not malnourished as he'd been. He stood almost a head taller than her, which did more to tell him just how much he'd grown than almost anything else had managed. Her hair was long and perfectly straight, like Daphne's, but was such a bright, brilliant blond as to be almost white in comparison to his bond mates more yellow blond and she had large, almost protruding silvery blue eyes set into a thin, elfin face.

"How did you know who I was?" he asked, letting go of her and stepping back a bit.

"The Nargles told me," she said, peering up at him and he gave her a blank look for a moment. "Besides, everyone knows who you are. You really are much more handsome without your glasses, did you know that?" She cocked her head to the side, looking curiously at him for a moment before straightening up. "Your ladies certainly seem to appreciate it."

Harry's mouth dropped open in surprise, but before he could say anything she'd breezed past him and walked toward the Weasley's, coming to stop by a girl that Harry hadn't noticed, surrounded as she was by four brothers and her parents.

"Who was that?"

Harry turned to look at Susan, absently following along as the crowd continued moving into the store. "I don't know, actually," he admitted after a moment. "She didn't give her name, but she knew who I was and…" he stopped and considered telling her what the strange girl had said but shrugged a moment later and shook his head.

They'd finally moved into the book shop and the group moved out through the rest of the store, thankful to be out of the stupid line. They didn't care about meeting Lockhart, but had been forced to wait just to get into the store. Quickly grabbing the books from their list, Harry made a face as he dropped the collection of Lockharts books into the basket he'd procured. Something about the handsome, grinning face with its dazzlingly white smile staring up at him from the back of the book jacket just freaked him out, so he placed the _Standard Book Of Spells, Grade 2_ , on top to cover it up.

It was as he was trying to edge past the crowd near the back of the store in search of some extra reading material to supplement his book list when disaster struck.

"It _can't_ be Harry Potter?"

Harry cringed and looked around wildly for the source of the voice as the crowd parted near him, whispering excitedly. Suddenly a hand seized his arm and he was jerked, practically off his feet, and up to the front of the crowd, Lockharts arm wrapped around his shoulders. The crowd burst into applause and Harry's face burned as Lockhart grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously for the photographer, who was clicking madly away, thick plumes of purple smoke erupting from the camera.

Harry was momentarily distracted, glaring at the photographer who'd shoved the girl he'd helped outside but his attention was quickly dragged back to his situation as several people approached the front of the crowd, shoving their way through despite all protests from those they disturbed.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lockhart said loudly, waving for quiet as Amelia, Daphne, Neville, Susan, and Hermione continued to push their way through the crowd. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time."

"Is that announcement that you're going to take your hands off of my ward right this second before I arrest you?"

Amelia's frigid tones cut through the noise of the crowd like a knife and Lockhart paled dramatically and stepped away from Harry.

"My apologies, dear lady," he said in a shaky tone. "I was simply so excited to see him here that I lost my head for a moment." As he spoke his voice grew stronger and he turned away to address the crowd again. "When Mister Potter came in here today, he only wanted to buy my biography. He had no _idea_ that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, _Magical Me._ He, and his school mates, will in fact be getting the real magical me. Yes, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The crowd cheered and as Harry attempted to slip away he found someone shoving the entire collected works of Gilderoy Lockhart into his arms. Staggering slightly under their weight, he made his way out of the limelight and toward his friends. Amelia quickly ushered him through the crowd with his friends falling into step with them until they were standing by the Weasley's.

"Here," he muttered to the red haired girl he'd seen earlier, the blond standing beside her, as he dumped the armful of books into the redheads cauldron. "You can have these, I'll just get my own." He shuddered, staring at the smiling face on the book jacket for a moment and turned away, missing the expression on the redheads face as she stared at him with something loosely resembling adoration in her eyes.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?"

Harry groaned mentally and turned to find himself face-to-face with Malfoy, his ever present sneer firmly in place.

"Famous Harry Potter," the boy continued. "Can't even go into a book store without ending up in the newspaper, eh?"

"He didn't want any of that, Malfoy and you know it," Susan shot back at the Slytherin.

"You should know by now the lengths Potter will go to for his precious fame. Making up stupid stories about giant dogs and traps at the school."

"Those weren't stories," Neville said, stepping forward until he was shoulder to shoulder next to Harry as both boys glared at Malfoy. "We were there, it happened." He yanked up the sleeve of his shirt, showing off the scar on his arm. "That's where I got this."

"Really, Longbottom. Trying to draw sympathy for that ugly blemish," Malfoy scoffed with a negligent wave of one hand. "You're from an Ancient and Most Noble House, you should be able to do better than that."

Nevilled fumed, his face turning red as his hands shook until Harry placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm his friend.

"Let it go, Nev," he muttered. "The ponce really isn't worth it."

A man came up behind Malfoy and placed a hand on the boys shoulder, similar to how Harry was holding Neville. "Well, well, well- Harry Potter."

Harry looked up into a cold silver gaze. The man was tall with the same haughty, aristocrat features that Malfoy had and similarly colored blond hair that hung just past his shoulders. In his other hand he carried a black cane with a silver snake head for a handle.

"Lucius."

Arthur Weasley stepped up in front of Harry and Neville, staring down the other wizard with his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Arthur," Mister Malfoy said in a falsely polite tone. "Busy time at the Ministry, I hear. All those raids… I do hope they're paying you overtime?" He reached into the little redheads cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration._

Harry tuned out the rest of the discussion, staring at the pompous blond intently. This was the man that had told his son about his visits with the Mind Healer last year. This was the man that was pushing the School Board to have him removed and sent to Saint Mungo's. Harry didn't really know what he'd expected when he finally found himself face to face with the man he'd heard so much about the previous year. But he shouldn't have been surprised to find that he was just as awful a person as the younger Malfoy. Though the father had something different about him.

Draco was a loud mouth and a braggart, and thus far, Harry hadn't seen much to back up the blonds words. His father though… there was something dangerous about the man. Something Harry's senses, honed by years of reading people, told him to be cautious around Lucius Malfoy.

His musings were interrupted when Mister Weasley suddenly threw himself forward at the other wizard. The crashed into a set of bookshelves as people started yelling and much of the crowd backed away. Mister Weasely reached back and punched the blond man once in the face before the other wizard was able to rally himself and he shoved hard. Both men stumbled and fell, knocking over the cauldron full of books and sending the red head, and the little blond girl sprawling across the floor as books spilled out and tumbled everywhere.

"Here now! Break it up!"

Hagrid came shoving his way through the crowd, standing head and shoulders above everyone else in the store as he reached down and grabbed the two wizards by the back of their robes, yanking them apart and to their feet.

"Arthur Weasley!" Amelia snapped. "I'm surprised at you." She sighed and turned to Mister Malfoy. "As head of the DMLE I have to ask if you wish to press charges against Arthur Weasley," she asked formally as the wizard in question was puled to the side by his obviously annoyed wife. She fussed over an already forming bruise on his cheek but the entire Weasley clan stood tense and alert, waiting with baited breath for what Malfoy decided.

"No, Director Bones," he said after several long moments of contemplation. "I think we can all agree that there was no lasting harm done and I believe I landed a few solid hits of my own. I think we can call this even for now and leave it at that."

"Gracious of you, Mister Malfoy," Amelia muttered and waved them on as the father and son made their way out of the book store. Draco sent Harry a smug smirk over his shoulder before he and his father left and Harry turned to help pick up all the books and return them to the cauldron.

Hermione handed him his basket, dropped when Lockhart had grabbed him and the entire group, plus the little blond, were ushered out of the store by several irritated workers.

Outside the blond clutched her books to her chest, looking around at the lot of them for a moment before she turned to Harry.

"It was nice meeting you, Harry Potter," she said. "I'm sure I'll see you at Hogwarts." Her gaze seemed unfocused, looking at the air around Harry's head instead of at his face, and before he could respond she'd turned and walked away, vanishing quickly into the milling crowd of people filling the Alley.

Harry sighed and stroked the scar behind his jaw, his mind whirling. "That is a very strange girl," he muttered to accompanying snorts of laughter from his friends.

"I like her," Susan said, and hooked her arm through Harry's on his left side as Hermione fell in on his right with Daphne beside Susan as the four of them continued on their way through the Alley, their friends and family surrounding them.

#####

With their shopping completed, the group spent the afternoon chatting over a meal at the Leaky Cauldron. Neville had been particularly thrilled to show off his new wand (thirteen inches, cherry wood with unicorn hair) and thanked Harry profusely for the letter he'd written to Neville's grandmother, saying that had been part of the deciding factor that pushed the old woman into letting Neville purchase a new wand.

Eventually, as the day wore on, people bade their goodbyes and left the group to head for their respective homes. It started with Blaise, who stood and bowed to the group, offering a formal sounding goodbye before making his way to the Floo, where he disappeared in a whoosh of bright green flames.

Harry was still somewhat on the fence about the quiet, Italian born Slytherin. He definitely seemed to want something, but Harry really couldn't figure out what it was. He pushed the thought from his mind, however, when Tracey and Hannah both stood a few moments later and offered their own goodbyes, resolving to consider Blaise and his possible motivations at another time.

There were hugs all around as the girls said their goodbyes, with Harry and Neville both surprisingly being dragged into hugs as well. Harry stiffened up more than he had in some time when Tracey pulled him into a hug. He idly noted that when Amelia or his girls hugged him he didn't react as badly, but obviously he still had some work to do when it came to contact from other people.

It was dark, and nearly dinner time, by the time Neville made his way to the Floo and the rest of them gathered their shopping together and headed for the Boneyard. Hermione hugged everyone and vanished into the Floo to head home and the tired group ate a quick, simple dinner before heading upstairs to pack and arrange their purchases.

Harry stepped into his room and dropped his things onto the large four poster bed, before he turned and looked at the chest sitting innocuously on the low table near the fire. He made his way over to a plush armchair and sunk into it, his eyes never leaving the chest. The magical contacts Amelia had talked him into were amazing, he had to admit. The day before, without his glasses, he hadn't really been able to make out many details of the chest, other than that it was made of wood and appeared to be locked somehow. Even with his glasses, he wasn't sure he'd have been able to note some of the fine details that he could clearly see now.

It was made of a light colored wood and covered in intricately detailed carvings of celtic knot work, with the Potter family crest burned into the top of the lid. There didn't appeared to be a latch, but there was a small opening in the front, and a set of brass hinges on the back. Curious, he poked the index finger of his right hand into the hole and a moment later cried out and yanked his hand back when he felt a pinch.

"Dammit," he muttered and glanced at the small wound on his finger, barely a pinprick but a drop of blood welled up as the chest glowed and the lid popped open, just slightly, a moment later with a loud click.

The pain in his finger forgotten, Harry eagerly lifted the lid and looked inside at the chests contents. There were several leather-bound journals, a golden snitch, it's wings folded tightly around the ball and a small pile of letters. Sifting through the letter he saw his name written on the outside of each envelope in two different hands. One he recognized as the handwriting on the letter from his mother while the other was unfamiliar so he assumed those letters were written by his father.

Before he could open any of the letters, or explore the chest further, there was a loud crack behind him that had him jumping from his seat, spinning around with his wand already in hand, courtesy of the wand holster that Amelia had given him, when a voice squeaked out, "Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts!"

Harry barely had time to take in the dirty and dishevled form of the house elf when a loud, blaring alarm sounded through the house. Another loud crack and Binky popped into the room, immediately tackling the other house elf and the two started wrestling, rolling across the floor as they squeaked loudly at each other.

"Yous cannot be being here!" Binky shouted at the top of his little voice.

"Dobby must warn the great Harry Potter!"

"No! Yous must go!"

"What in the blazes is going on in here?"

Harry turned, wide eyed, to the door to his room to find it standing open with Amelia filling the doorway, her wand in hand, and he could just make out Susan and Daphne standing behind her.

"I don't know!" Harry yelled over the still blaring alarm and the loud fight taking place between the two elves. With no idea what else to do Harry holstered his wand with a flick of his wrist, grabbed both elves by the back of their respective clothes and hauled the two apart, holding them each in one hand just as Hagrid had done to Mister Weasley and Mister Malfoy earlier that day. Harry almost quirked a small smile as he thought of the image of himself in place of Hagrid but quickly focused on the task at hand.

"Hey!" he yelled as the two elves continued to reach toward each other, intent on continuing their battle. "Cut it out," he added and shook them both for a moment. The two quieted instantly and Amelia stepped the rest of the way into the room with Daphne and Susan trailing behind her.

"Binky, can you shut off the alarm please?" Amelia asked and Binky nodded, still glaring at the other elf before he raised one hand and snapped his fingers, vanishing with a loud crack from Harry's grip. Moment's later the alarm shut off and Harry felt almost deaf in the sudden silence.

He set the elf he was still holding down and backed away, dropping back into the chair he'd abandoned as the others came and seated themselves near the fire.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" Harry asked the elf.

"Dobby is being Dobby," the little elf squeaked after straightening the filthy pillow case he was using as his only clothing. "Dobby is being warning the great Harry Potter. Harry Potter must no return to Hogwarts!"

Harry exchanged a look with Amelia and the girls before returning his attention to Dobby.

"Look… Dobby, right?" the elf nodded rapidly, his ears flapping back and forth with the motion. "Dobby, I have go to go back to Hogwarts. I need to go to school and that's where all of my friends will be."

"It is being dangerous at the school this year," Dobby squeaked. "The great Harry Potter and his bond mates must not return."

The four of them started, staring blankly at Dobby for a moment before Harry found his voice. "How do you know that we're bonded?" he asked.

"It is being easy for elveses to see the bond. Most times, bond is between two peoples. But Harry Potter is a great and powerful wizard, it is no surprise he would bond with more than one."

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. "Look, Dobby, why don't you have a seat and we can talk about this," he said, waving to the one remaining empty chair. A moment later he was taken aback when Dobby burst into tears.

"Dobby has heard tell of Harry Potter's greatness," he wailed, huge crocodile tears streaming down his wrinkled little face. "But never, never has Dobby heard of his kindness. To ask a lowly house elf to sit, as an equal."

"Well, you can't have met many decent wizards, then," Harry said as he directed the elf to the empty chair.

Dobby shook his head. Then, without warning, he leapt up from his seat and started banging his head furiously against the table, shouting, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!" over and over.

"What are you _doing?_ " Hary yelled, shocked by the little creatures behavior. He grabbed Dobby by the shoulders and pulled him back to the chair and sat him down again.

"Dobby had to punish himself, sir," said the elf, looking slightly cross-eyed in Harry's general direction. "Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir…"

"His family?" Harry asked, glancing at the women in the room and as one all three of them nodded.

"Yes, it's something some of the old families do, requiring such complete obedience even to the point of severe punishments for slightly infractions like speaking poorly of the family in question," Amelia said with a disgusted sniff. "It's an awful and repugnant way to do things but there's nothing to stop them and the laws are written in such a way that it is completely legal."

"Does your family know that you're here?" Susan asked, leaning forward to look Dobby in the eyes.

"Oh no, miss, no…. Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see Harry Potter Sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door. If they ever knew…" Dobby trailed off and a violent shudder ran through his body.

"But won't they notice if you shut your ears in the oven door?" Harry asked, still trying to wrap his brain around the strange turn the evening had taken.

"Dobby doubts it, sir. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something. They lets Dobby get on with it, sir. Sometimes they remind me to do extra punishments…"

Harry frowned, wanting to suggest that Dobby simply leave this family that treated him so horribly, but knew that only the family presenting Dobby with clothes would free him from their service.

With no other options he shrugged and focused his attention back on the little elf. "Dobby," he said. "I have to go back to Hogwarts. I can't miss school. Why do you think I shouldn't go?"

"Bad things be happening at Hogwarts this year, Harry Potter Sir. Very, very bad things. Dark things in the school. Harry Potter Sir is so great, so kind, he must not return or he will be in grave danger. Dobby has heard that the Great Harry Potter Sir faced the dark one for a second time, just weeks ago and defeated him again!" The elves eyes shone with a level of hero worship that was making Harry extremely uncomfortable.

"Dobby, I can't just not go back. I belong in the wizarding world and part of that is going to school and learning to use magic."

Dobby fidgeted with nervous energy, wringing his long fingered hands together as his entire body practically vibrated with fear. Eventually he heaved out a huge sigh.

"Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts," he said again. "Dobby has warned Harry Potter Sir and, for now, that is all that Dobby can do. Please, sir. Please do not return to the school."

Before any of them could react any further he snapped his fingers and disappeared with an earsplitting crack.

The four of them stared at the empty chair for several long moments before Harry turned his attention to the others.

"What the hell was _that_ all about?"

#####

"What is all this?" Harry asked, early the next morning. He was standing in the archway leading into the kitchen staring at the scene before him. Amelia was sitting at the head of the table, three piles of letters on the table in front of her while Daphne and Susan scurried back and forth, relieving the letters from the dozens of owls that perched and sat on almost every available surface. As one owl would leave another would swoop in through the open window to take it's place.

"These are the offers from families wishing to be your guardian," Amelia said as she waved her wand over a new stack of envelopes, handed to her by Susan, before she started separating them into the three different piles. Harry balked, looking at the sheer volume of offers in the middle of relieving a regal looking eagle owl of its burden. A clack of its beak reminded Harry of what he was doing and he quickly untied the string holding the envelope in place. The owl clicked its beak again and spread it's large wings as it took to the air, soaring silently out of the window as two more owls flew in just after it cleared the space.

It took another twenty minutes of the three children untying letters as fast as they could and handing them off to Amelia before the flow of owls finally stopped and Harry collapsed into a chair, a mug of coffee appearing in front of him as he started, dumbfounded, at the mounds of envelopes piled onto the table.

"This is insane," he muttered, taking a sip of his coffee.

"I told you you'd likely get a lot of offers once the news broke," Amelia reminded him and he could only shrug.

"But why? I'm not anything special really. Why would so many people want to take me in?"

"Aside from all the wonderful things that you are, Harry, to most people you're still the Boy-Who-Lived. Of course there are people out there that want to help you, maybe to pay back what you did in removing Voldemort all those years ago. Others may want to ride your political coattails, or use you in some other manner." She shrugged and tapped one of the piles in front of her.

"I've got these broken down by category. This first pile I call 'interesting' the second is 'maybe' and the third is 'hell no'."

Harry snorted a laugh into his coffee, looking up to find Daphne and Susan grinning impishly at him.

"Hell no, was my suggesting," Susan supplied, helpfully.

"Why are they 'hell no'?" he asked.

"Because they're all families that are known or were at least suspected of Death Eater activity in the last war. The maybe's have some that might have supported Voldemort's ideas but never actively participated in any way. While the 'interesting' pile has families that are known to be light aligned or slightly grey. I think there's an offer from the Weasleys in there."

Harry hesitated for a very long moment, staring intently at the piles before he spoke. "Is there one in there from you?" he asked.

Amelia gave him a smile but shook her head. "No there isn't an offer from the Bones Family in the pile. I wanted to talk to you first before doing or offering anything."

"What about?" he asked, trying to keep a level tone of voice. He couldn't keep the wave of sadness from filtering through the bond to Susan and Daphne, however. Moment's later the bell for the Floo chimed through the house and they could hear the sound of rapid footsteps approaching the kitchen. Moment's later, Hermione appeared in the doorway, still covered in soot and breathing hard, her eyes darting quickly around the room for a moment before settling on Harry, then on the piles on the table.

"Morning," she said after she took a deep breath to calm herself.

"Sorry, 'Mione," Harry muttered and stood to banish the soot from her clothes with his wand. He'd just returned it to the holster hidden by his long sleeve when she pulled him into a bone crushing hug, the scent of parchment and vanilla filling his nose as he buried his face in her wild hair.

"Good morning, Hermione," Amelia, Susan, and Daphne called as the two separated and returned to the table.

"So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Harry asked after they were all settled at the table, drinks in front of them. He contemplated getting a second cup of coffee but the first sat heavy in his stomach already and he didn't feel it would be a good idea.

"Well, there's different ways for a family to take over your guardianship, Harry, and you need to be sure of what you want before taking any of these offers into account."

"Different how?" he asked, curious despite himself.

"They can take over as your guardian, as I've done so far this summer. That gives me some legal authority over you, but you're still in control of the lions share of your life, for the most part. Another option is for you to be adopted, like I did with Susan. Some families might want you to take their name or might allow you to keep Potter or even hyphenate and add another name. It all depends. The question is, which do you want? Just a guardian, or do you want to really be adopted into and become part of a new family?"

Harry blinked in surprise and then frowned, stroking the scar behind his jaw with one finger as he thought furiously over the question.

"Well… I wouldn't want to give up my name. I mean… being a Most Ancient and Noble House wouldn't that potentially cause some problems if I changed my name? The Potter line would basically become extinct then, wouldn't it?"

Amelia nodded, but said nothing, watching him work through the situation on his own.

"And Hyphenating it by adding another family name wouldn't really be much better in the long run. Yes it would be better, but not by a lot in the end. So I think just having someone be my guardian would be for the best."

Amelia watched him for a moment longer before speaking to the girls. "Girls, would you please leave Harry and I to talk for a minute?"

"Is something wrong, auntie?" Susan asked even as she stood.

"No, nothing is wrong, I promise you. I just need to talk to Harry privately for a moment."

The girls quietly trooped out of the room, each stopping to give Harry a quick hug as they passed him.

"I'm really glad you said that, Harry," Amelia said leaning forward to stare intently at him after the girls had been gone for several minutes. "I would have made an offer to remain your guardian, but I wasn't sure what you wanted. I can't, in good conscience, adopt you if that was what you wanted."

"Why is that?"

Amelia smirked. "Well, since you and Susan are technically betrothed, I didn't think you'd want to face the possibility of perhaps one day being in a relationship with your adopted sister."

Harry blanched at that and Amelia laughed at the expression on his face once that information had sunk in.

"True, you'd only be siblings on paper, but still, I felt that might be somewhat awkward and difficult to work around so best to avoid it entirely." She chuckled quietly for a moment before she drew herself up and addressed him again in far more formal tones. "Lord Harry James Potter, Head of House Potter and last living member of said House, I, Madam Amelia Susan Bones, Regent of House Bones would like to formally offer my services as your legal guardian from now until such a time as you wish to select another as your guardian or until you reach your legal age of majority. I offer you a place where you will always be welcome, guidance when you need it, and discipline when it is required. Moreover, I offer you a family, and a home. A place to be who you truly are and not who the vast majority of our world expects you to be. Do you accept my offer?"

With trembling hands and a quaver in his voice Harry nodded his acceptance before he spoke, "I, Harry James Potter, Head and last living member of House Potter, do gratefully accept the offer of legal guardianship from Madam Amelia Susan Bones, Regent of House Bones, from now until such time as I wish to select another as my guardian or until I reach my legal age of majority. Even more, I accept the offer of a home and a family to call my own."

After he finished speaking there was no flash of light, no chime or sound or signal of any kind to show the oath they'd sworn to each other, but when Amelia stood and stepped around the corner of the table with her arms open to him, Harry felt that the warm, comforting hug that he eagerly accepted was better than anything he'd ever experienced.

He finally felt as if he had a home, a true, real home of his own with family that cared for him and wanted nothing but the best for him. With his face pressed into her shoulder, and her arms wrapped securely around him, Harry vowed silently to work hard and prove himself be worthy of the gift he'd been given.

It was some minutes before they pulled apart and Amelia held him in place at arms length with her hands on his shoulders.

"I've got some paperwork to draw up and file that we'll have to sign. As soon as I get everything ready we'll go over it, sign it all, and I will officially be your guardian before the end of the week."

Harry nodded, smiling broadly up at her. "What about all of those?" he asked, waving to the piles and piles of envelopes with offers to be his guardian.

"We'll have to respond to them, but if you right up a simple form letter, politely declining, I'll have Binky make copies and we can just fill in the names where we need to and send them out. Don't worry too much about it, okay?"

Harry nodded and Amelia released him after patting his should comfortingly. "Now," she said as she retook her seat at the table. "I think you should go change into some workout clothes. Auror Cadet Tonks should be here in the next half an hour or so to put you through your paces. She'll be by every day for the remainder of the summer so you can get used to the routine which I expect you to stick to even once you're back at school." She gave him a firm, but not angry look, and Harry winced but nodded his acceptance. As punishments went, after what he'd pulled, he honestly couldn't complain. And he _did_ need to get onto the physical training routine that Gant had given him. He understood that it would only help him in the long run, it had just been something he kept putting off, lacking the motivation really to start it all on his own. With someone pushing him to complete the routine, he realized it would be much easier to get the work done.

With a quick smile and a wave to Amelia, he retreated to his room to change and wait for his trainer to arrive.


	20. Pixies and Shadows

**Authors Note: Rotten Writer double timing it here with another update for you wonderful peoples. Inspiration and life both managed to cooperate and I got this chapter hammered out in record time. Looking forward to jumping into the nitty gritty, so to speak, of starting off our second year at Hogwarts. It's gonna be a fun, if bumpy ride, unless I miss my guess.**

 **Disclaimer: We all know the deal by now I think, right? I don't own any of this except for the original parts of the storyline. Characters and setting all belong to people far wealthier than I.**

 **Here we go with Soul Scars Chapter 19**

Soul Scars Part Two

Darkness Within

By,

Rtnwriter

On the morning of September First, 1992, Harry Potter woke at five o'clock with a pained groan as consciousness returned to him and he looked blearily around his room for a few moments as he worked to get his bearings. Painfully, he pulled himself out of bed and toward his bathroom where he knew a scalding hot shower awaited him. He cursed the name of Auror Cadet Tonks with every breath as he shuffled his way across the room, pleased that Amelia had decided today would be a day free from his ongoing physical training.

"You'll get used to it in a couple weeks," Harry mocked in a high pitched tone. "Couple weeks my left foot. I'd get used to it if she didn't just keep making it harder every day," he groaned as he turned on the shower and shed his sleep clothes, a pair of dark grey sweat pants and a soft, long sleeved shirt.

The shower did wonders for his sore, aching muscles, and served to wake him more fully from his slumber. Cleaning himself quickly, and with a growing sense of excitement, he dried off, dressed, and went about packing the last of his belongings that hadn't already been stored in his school trunk before he made his way downstairs for a cup of coffee and some breakfast.

As he sat alone at the table, enjoying a classic English breakfast and nursing a cup of strong coffee, Harry thought over the last summer with mixed feelings. On the one hand, it had been a wonderful, amazing summer, easily the best that he could ever remember. Spending time with his friends just playing together and hanging out had to have been the most normal he'd ever felt in his life. Even over the last month where his mornings were filled with torturous exercises. In the afternoons he'd often gone over to Neville's home and spent time with his friend. One notable afternoon the Weasley twins had invited him by and Harry and the girls had all Floo'd over to the Burrow and spent a lazy afternoon playing in the backyard and Harry even got in some flying in the meadow where the Weasleys usually played small Quidditch matches.

The twins had rounded off that evening with a display of Filibuster fireworks that bounced and shot through the backyard and into the trees beyond. Harry had been impressed by the volume Missus Weasley reached when she yelled at the two of them for that stunt.

But now, on the first of September, Harry found himself less than thrilled to be heading off to school. He frowned as he considered it. He was looking forward to school, honestly, the chance to learn more magic and see his friends with greater regularity. But the little house elf's warning still rang in his ears. Amelia had looked into the matter the best she could but hadn't been able to find out anything about Dobby or which family he was bound to. It had been quite aggravating for her.

Which brought his thoughts around to the kind but firm red haired witch. Amelia had gone to great lengths to make sure he felt welcome after her formal offer to be his full time guardian. The room that he'd been given was now truly _his_ room. He'd failed to do much with it before, worried that he might be moving to stay with a different family. But the day she'd offered and he'd accepted, he started decorating the room to his tastes with Binky's help. The house elf had been a godsend, helping Harry patiently to change the color of the walls to a nice, light green with a cream colored carpet. He'd placed some posters and decorations on the walls and more of his belongings found themselves spread across the room. Books, bits of parchment, and several quills littered the small desk that sat against one wall. More books filled a set of shelves that Amelia had bought for him and his wardrobe had expanded considerably and filled the closet. Several framed photos, taken over the course of the summer, sat on the low table in front of the fire and in general, the room looked less like a room belonging to a temporary guest, and more like a room that someone actually lived in.

As the minutes ticked away the rest of the house came alive with Susan and Amelia joining him at the kitchen table. They exchanged greetings and served themselves some food, eating and talking quietly. There was a somewhat somber feel to the air of the house. Summer was officially over and Harry knew that Amelia would feel the emptiness of the house keenly while he and Susan were at school but they'd both promised to write to her often and with Hedwig and Archimedes both willing and able, they would never lack for an owl willing to carry a letter.

By the time ten o'clock rolled around they were packed and waiting by the Floo. Susan stepped through, heading to the Leaky Cauldron with her trunk shrunken and tucked safely into a pocket while Amelia side-along Apparated Harry to the dingy pub. They waved to the barman, Tom, and made their way outside where Amelia flagged down a cab and they jumped in to make the short journey to Kings Cross. They had decided ahead of time to meet Hermione and her parents on the muggle side of the barrier instead of Flooing or Apparating there so they could all enter the platform together. Daphne was going to take the Floo onto the platform and meet them on the muggle side as well.

As soon as they exited the cab, Susan and Harry each grabbed a trolley and, with a quick look around to ensure no one was watching, Amelia enlarged their trunks. Pushing their way through the crowd they quickly found Hermione and Daphne standing with Dan and Emma by the barrier separating platforms nine and ten.

"Did anyone have any trouble getting here?" Amelia asked as she shook hands with Dan and Emma and greeted Daphne with a quick hug.

"A little trouble parking, but nothing we couldn't handle," Dan told her, a broad smile firmly in place on his face.

Amelia glanced up at a nearby clock, the time showing ten-thirty and gestured toward the barrier. "Well, we'd better get a move on so these kids can get themselves situated. Harry? Why don't you head on through first and we'll follow along behind you?"

Harry nodded and took hold of his trolley's handles before he began pushing it toward the barrier, speeding up to a quick jog as he approached the seemingly solid wall that separated the two platforms. A moment later, with a loud crash he ran into the wall tumbling the cart and himself to the floor. Hedwig shrieked loudly as her cage tumbled from the top of his trunk and Harry groaned as his ribs rammed into the handle.

"Harry! Are you okay?" Amelia asked as she rushed over and helped him to his feet.

He groaned again and straightened up slowly as Susan collected Hedwig's cage and did her best to soothe the irate owl.

"What happened?" Hermione asked and Harry shrugged.

"I don't know. The barrier wouldn't let me through." He walked over and placed his hand on the wall and it was as solid as any other wall.

Amelia stepped up beside him and placed her hand on the very solid barrier, her eyebrows shooting up toward her hairline in her surprise. A moment later she pulled back and gave Harry a questioning look.

"Well, this isn't the end of the world, really. We can get through here without _too_ much trouble…" she trailed off as she looked around at the group. Four kids and two adults aside from herself and she being the only one able to Apparate did make it a little harder. She could probably take the kids two at a time or maybe…

Amelia tapped her Auror badge with her wand after first throwing up a quick notice-me-not and a muggle repelling ward, making sure to exclude the Granger parents so that they wouldn't be affected.

"Auror Cadet Tonks and Senior Auror Shacklebolt," she said. "I need you both to meet me by the barrier in Kings Cross on the double. Not an emergency but time is somewhat of the essence. I have already placed privacy wards around the area so you are safe to Apparate directly in."

A few moments later there was a quiet pop when Kingsley appeared out of thin air accompanied by a loud crack that split the air around them as Tonks appeared and Amelia frowned at her. "I know you're better at Apparating quietly than that," she admonished the young woman who gave her a lopsided smile and a shrug.

"Sorry, Boss. I was trying to rush. Wotcher Harry," she added the last, turning and ruffling Harry's hair, a habit she'd gotten into over the last several weeks spent training him in the mornings. "What kind of trouble have you gotten us into today? This going to be another rescue mission?"

"This isn't _my_ fault," he protested, his face reddening slightly as the girls snickered behind their hands at him. "The barrier won't let us through onto the platform." He waved toward the barrier blocking their way with a scowl, as if his heated gaze alone could force the solid wall back into intangibility.

"Huh," Tonks said, blinking in surprise. "Well, that's certainly a new one, never heard of that happening before."

"Quite right, and since we've…" Amelia glanced at the clock again, "less than half an hour before the train leaves I'd like you two to help side-along Apparating everyone onto the platform. I'll contact Magical Maintenance and get someone out here to redirect people and see if they can't fix whatever went wrong with the barrier."

After a few minutes spent organizing everyone, Kingsley took both of Hermione's parents with him, disappearing with a louder crack than when he'd arrived. Tonks took hold of Susan and Daphne while Amelia held her arms out to Harry and Hermione. Once they'd grabbed hold Harry felt that strange sensation of being squeezed through a rubber tube and suddenly he was staring at the scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express. He staggered for a moment, still unused to Apparation and he didn't think he would ever get used to it, it was just such an unpleasant sensation.

"All right," Amelia said, gathering everyone's attention. "Thank you, Tonks, Shack, I appreciate the assistance. There were just too many for me to take myself. When you get back to the office please send a memo to Magical Maintenance for me. I think I'd rather stay here on the other side for a while to make sure others don't run into too much trouble… actually… Tonks you stay with me, I might need your help Apparating any muggleborn students over, they won't have any other means to get through until the barrier is fixed.

"That was really weird," Harry muttered, staring back at the barrier that led out to Kings Cross while the adults were busy discussing their plan of attack.

"No time to worry about it right now," Amelia told him. "We'll be looking into it but you kids need to get on the train." She gave him a quick hug then turned and pulled the girls each into a hug as they all said their goodbyes and the children promised to write as often as they could before they got onto the train, dragging their trunks behind them.

They found their compartment at the very back of the train, unoccupied, and quickly stowed their trunks in the overhead before collapsing onto the seats.

"Well, that was a really strange start to the year," Harry noted as he looked at the girls in the compartment with him. Daphne quirked a small smirk while Susan snorted and Hermione just stared at him incredulously.

"Here's hoping that the rest of the year is quieter," Susan said and Harry groaned and sunk low on his seat near the window just as the train started moving.

"You do realize you just jinxed us, right?" he asked and then laughed when Susan stuck her tongue out at him.

Within minutes the door opened and Neville, Tracey, and Hannah joined them in the compartment. The remainder of the trip was spent talking quietly, playing games, and reading in Harry and Hermione's case as the train steadily chugged its way along the tracks towards Hogwarts.

In the back of his mind, Dobby's warning still rang loudly to Harry as he struggled to focus on the book he held balanced on his knees.

Dark times were coming to Hogwarts. Danger and trouble in the halls of the old school. Harry dearly hoped that the little elf was wrong, but as they moved closer and closer to their destination, he had a heavy feeling in his gut that this was going to be a dangerous year at school.

#####

They didn't have much trouble for the remainder of their journey to school, a few friends stopped by and chatted during the trip and once Malfoy swung by but aside from glaring through the window into their compartment for a few moments he did nothing else and went on his way with his usual book ends in tow, following along like faithful puppies.

"I wonder what's up with Malfoy," Harry muttered, not for the first time as they were exiting the train at Hogsmeade station.

"Yes, Harry," Daphne said in a slightly exasperated tone. "So you've said, several times, and we don't disagree with you but unless there's something you know that we don't then there's nothing we can do about it so you might as well just let it drop, for now."

Harry cringed slightly from the ascorbic tone in her voice, realizing he'd been getting on her nerves with his comments.

"Sorry," he muttered. "It's just weird not having him act like a total git, I'm really not sure what to…."

Daphne and the rest of their friends kept walking for a few steps until they realized that Harry had stopped walking and talking both and they'd left him behind.

"What are _those_?" he blurted out, staring wide eyed at the scene before him.

Hemione, Susan, and Daphne followed his gaze, each frowning in confusion.

"It's the horseless carriages that will take us up to the castle," Daphne said. "Only the first years take the boats."

"Horseless?" Harry blinked and tore his eyes away from the creature to focus on Daphne. "What do you mean horseless? Something is pulling those carriages."

"Well, magic powers them I would expect," Hermione spoke up thoughtfully. "But there's nothing there pulling them, Harry. Just a carriage."

"There's _something_ there," Harry insisted. "It kind of looks like a horse, but sort of skeletal looking with wings." He stepped closer to the creature, studying it carefully.

"Harry, there's nothing there," Susan said quietly.

"You really can't see it?" Harry asked as he stepped up and carefully lifted his hand, letting the creature sniff his palm before he started petting the side of its head and neck. It was warm under his fingers and he noticed a mouthful of sharp teeth but didn't feel in any way afraid of the creature.

To Hermione, Daphne, and Susan, it looked as if Harry was stroking thin air when he turned and held a hand out to Hermione.

"Come here," he said, holding one hand out to her and when she approached he took her hand and lifted it, placing her palm against the animals neck and her eyes widened as she slowly stroked the creatures skin.

"There really is something there," she breathed to Daphne and Susan, a sense of wonder in her voice. "Why can't we see them?" she asked.

"Because they're Thestrals."

As one, the five of them turned to stare at a little blond girl that was standing nearby looking at them with her head cocked slightly to one side, her large silvery blue eyes seeming to gleam in the wan moonlight.

"Only someone who has seen death with their own eyes can see them," she added as she stepped up on Harry's opposite side and started scratching the Thestral under the chin with one hand. By the way her eyes were focused, Harry knew she could see the creature.

"What do you mean, 'seen death'?" he asked.

"Well… if you've seen a person die with your own eyes, not seeing a body after the fact, but actually witnessing the moment of their death, then you can see the Thestrals. Because of that a lot of people think that they're some kind of bad omen or dark creature." She cocked her head to the side again, regarding Harry carefully.

"It's really too bad," she added. "Thestrals are such interesting creatures but one little thing and people get the wrong opinion about them. Just like you, Harry Potter."

Harry blinked and eyed the little girl. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, everyone seems to have expectations of you. How you'll behave, how you'll act, what you should do or shouldn't do all because of the legends and stories surrounding the Boy-Who-Lived. But none of that's real is it? Like Thestrals, people make assumptions about them based on one little piece of information without bothering to learn anything more about them. And people already have an image of who the Boy-Who-Lived is, even when they haven't yet met Harry Potter. So, you and the Thestrals are really rather a lot alike. At least… I think so."

Harry considered that, still idly stroking the Thestrals neck, and could see some of the logic in what she was talking about.

"Hey," he said, suddenly remembering her from Diagon Alley. "What's your name? You never told us when we were at Flourish and Blotts."

"I'm Luna Lovegood, most people call me Looney."

"Well we would never call you Looney, right?" he asked looking around at his friend and bond mates to see them all nodding in agreement. "But Luna, why are you here? Shouldn't you be with the other first years on the boats?"

She shrugged one thin shoulder. "They left without me," she stated in a calm tone of voice, as if being forgotten and left behind was a normal every day occurrence. "I was going to walk up to the castle but I saw you all here with the Thestrals and decided to stop and talk."

"Would you like to ride with us?" Hermione asked after a quick glance around showed they were standing by the last of the carriages, the rest apparently having left while they'd been distracted. "It might be a tight squeeze but I'm sure we can all manage to fit."

Luna cocked her head the opposite way and stared at Hermione for several long moments. "I'd like that," she finally said. "Sharing a carriage… it'll be almost like having friends, right?"

Harry fought the urge to frown and instead forced a wide grin onto his face. "Not like having friends but actually having friends, I would think. I can't speak for everyone else but I would be happy to be your friend, Luna."

Luna didn't say anything else but it was easy to tell the simple statement meant a great deal to her.

Five minutes later Harry realized that Hermione had, once again, been correct. It _was_ a squeeze getting everyone into the carriage meant to seat four, but they managed when Harry decided to sit with his back against the wall of the carriage opposite the door with his legs stretched out in front of him between the two bench seats. On his left, Daphne sat with Neville and Luna while Hermione and Susan sat on the seat on his right.

"Comfortable down there?" Hermione asked, smirking slightly at Harry where he rested against the wall.

"Not bad at all really," he said. "At least I can stretch out a bit here."

The ride from the train station up to the castle wasn't a particularly long one, ten to fifteen minutes at most, and much of the time was filled by Luna telling them about some of the trips she and her father had gone on over the years, in particular their hunt for the ever elusive Crumple Horned Snorcack. Harry didn't really know what to think of the strange, sometimes spacey seeming girl, but he liked her. She was odd and quirky and she really didn't seem to give a damn who thought so.

By the time they got out of the carriage they were officially running a few minutes behind schedule and the group moved quickly at a fast walk into the castle through the wide open front doors.

"If you head that way," Harry said with a hand on Luna's shoulder as he pointed with his free hand down a hall to their left, "and go through the fifth door on your right, follow that hallway to the end and take a right and you'll come out where the rest of the first years should be waiting to get sorted, okay?"

Luna nodded and suddenly threw her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. Before he had a chance to react she had pulled away and backed up several steps.

"Thank you, very much, Harry Potter," she said. "I do hope we'll still be friends even if I end up in a different house than you." She turned and started humming a song to herself as she skipped her way down the hall and out of sight.

"Seriously… very strange girl," he said, staring after her before glancing at Susan, "but I think I like her, too. She's definitely got an interesting way of viewing the world, doesn't she?"

The group of five made their way into the Great Hall and found seats at the Gryffindor table just as the small side door opened and Professor McGonagall led the new first years into the Hall. Harry was easily able to identify Luna's bright blond hair amongst the rest of the new students and watched carefully as the sorting commenced. He would later not be able to say what song it was the hat sang that year, only that it wasn't the same as the year before. Part way through the singing there was a loud crashing sound outside and Professor Snape rose and left the staff table, his robes billowing behind him as he exited the Hall.

"What's that about?" Susan muttered from his left and Harry shrugged as McGonagall started reading off the students names and one by one they came up to be sorted into their House. When Luna was called up he watched her carefully as the hat took several long minutes to decide before it suddenly called out, "Ravenclaw!" in a voice that could be heard across the entire large room.

Harry clapped as loud as any of the Ravenclaw students, flashing Luna a bright smile when she glanced in his direction on her way to sit with her house mates.

"Well," Dumbledore said, standing from his large golden throne after the last of the students had been sorted and had moved to join their House table. "To our new students, welcome, and to our returning students, welcome back for another year at Hogwarts. We do have a few announcements to get through before the end of the evening but I shall save those for after our sumptuous feast. So, for now, tuck in."

He clapped his hands and the tables were suddenly filled with platter after platter of delicious smelling food.

Conversation flowed organically about the tables, nearby students getting drawn into one discussion or another before shifting their attention to someone else. Harry said little but calmly ate his fill as his sharp eyes observed the people around him and his ears strained to take in the various discussions.

To his great dismay, more than one group of students had brought up his sudden lack of glasses and some of the comments from the females within hearing distance had his ears burning and his face flushed as he kept his head down and focused on his food.

As the deserts replaced dinner on the table Harry chanced a look up and down the length of the room. He noticed most of the Weasleys rather quickly but frowned a moment later. Something felt off.

Mentally he counted, _Percy, Fred, George, their little sister whose name I still haven't gotten… where's Ron?_

"Where's Ron?" he muttered aloud a moment later and his friends followed his gaze noticing the missing redhead amongst their number.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley is missing too," Susan pointed out.

"You didn't hear?" Lavender Brown asked from her seat across from the four bond mates and down a few. "That loud crash we heard earlier? Apparently Ron and Justin flew Ron's Dad's car here from Kings Cross and crashed it into the old Whomping Willow out on the grounds. That's why Professor Snape left earlier."

Harry blinked. "We haven't even finished the feast," he pointed out. "How do you find out these things?"

Lavender simply gave him a smug smirk and shook her head. "I have my ways, Lord Potter," she told him and he winced.

"So you read that article in the Prophet, huh?"

"Everyone has," Parvati said from beside Lavender. "Aside from Ron crashing the car and you not wearing your glasses anymore that's all anyone is talking about."

"Yeah, half the school noticed how much you grew last year and a lot of the upper year girls were talking about how cute you were getting. Ditching the glasses just catapulted you up the ranks of eligible bachelors at school and adding a lordship on top of it…" Lavender trailed off meaningfully and Harry could tell that his face had turned beet red as he spluttered and stammered, trying to come up with something, _anything_ , to say in response to _that_ particular statement.

Thankfully, he was granted a reprieve when the deserts suddenly vanished, leaving the plates sparklingly clean once again and Dumbledore stood, waving for quiet from the assembled students.

"Another year at Hogwarts is upon us," the old wizard declared in a grand tone of voice. "And with it another year to fill our heads with new knowledge and new experiences. The beginning of term announcements are relatively simple. First I would like to welcome and introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Professor Lockhart, who has graciously agreed to fill the post for us."

He paused a moment for the expected applause, an applause that was much more fervent on the part of the female portion of the school's population than it was on the part of the males. Of those that he could see Harry noted only his three girls and perhaps one or two others at the Gryffindor table that didn't suddenly get a glazed look in their eyes as they stared at the handsome Professor. He simply snorted but clapped politely for a moment before dropping his hands back into his lap as he waited for Dumbledore to continue.

"Yes, yes, thank you very much," the Headmaster called as the applause went into its third minute. "Please, there are more announcements that we need to get to before we can all seek our beds for the evening."

The clapping finally died down and Dumbledore cleared his throat before he continued. "As usual, Mister Filch has asked me to remind students that there is to be no use of magic in the halls either between classes or otherwise and that the list of banned items, which I believe to be somewhere in the range of four-hundred and thirty-two can be found posted on the door to the Caretakers office, should you wish to peruse it."

Harry heard a snort of laughter and glanced down the length of the table to see Fred and George grinning gleefully at each other. A shudder ran through him and he turned back to look at his friends.

"Am I the only one feeling a sense of dread because of them?" he asked, jerking his head in the twin's direction.

As they shook their heads mutely he heaved out a relived sigh.

"Oh, good," he said. "I was worried that I might be getting paranoid for a moment."

"Well," Dumbledore continued. "With that out of the way I think we can safely bid you all a pleasant evening. Prefects, do please ensure the new students find their way to their dorms and we shall see you all tomorrow morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed and eager to fill your minds. Off you trot."

#####

Harry woke the next morning before the sun had even begun to hint that it might soon be peeking over the distant mountains and rolled out of his bed. Dressing quickly in the darkened dorm room with the sound of Ron's snores shaking the rafters, he crept from the room with his trainers firmly tied and made his way downstairs to the empty common room. Exiting through the portrait hole it didn't take him long to find himself in the empty seventh floor corridor standing across from the painting of Barnabus the Barmy, still attempting to teach several trolls to dance ballet.

He ignored the painting and walked back and forth three times in front of the empty stretch of wall, thinking, _I need a place to workout and train,_ over and over. On his third pass, the door sprang into existence and he pulled it open, quickly stepping inside and letting the door swing shut behind him with a quiet click.

He carefully inspected the room for several moments before nodding his head in satisfaction. One half of the large space was dominated by a firing range with several different types of targets available for spell practice as well as a long dueling platform.

The other half of the room held some basic exercise equipment and a large circular running track with a sign that read, ' _Each lap equals one quarter of a mile._ '

After some stretches to loosen his cold muscles, Harry started jogging on the track. A small smile curved his lips as he remembered how shocked Tonks had been by his running the first day she'd come by to work with him on his physical training. He really hadn't felt like explaining the years of practice he'd gotten, running from Dudley to her and had simply shrugged it off.

He ran eight laps of the track that morning and was pleased to find that he was sweating and out of breath but not feeling as if he wanted to keel over and die. After his run, he ran through a few sets of pull-ups, push-ups, and sit-ups all the while keeping Tonks' advice firmly in mind.

' _You're young,'_ her voice rang in his head. _'You have just mostly recovered from years of malnourishment, so I've been told. You don't need to push yourself too far or too fast. Push, yes. But know your limits.'_

By the time he finished three full sets of each exercise, an hour had passed by and he turned and grabbed the bottle of water that he'd brought with him, taking several slow sips before doing some cool down stretches.

' _Stretching is important, kid. Stretching before working out loosens your muscles so you have less of a chance of straining something. Stretching afterwards helps keep your body from tightening up and helps to lessen the amount of pain that you'll be in later.'_

"Tonks would be proud of me," he muttered with a smile after finishing his stretches. "I actually listened to her lessons."

Harry spent another hour practicing spell work at the firing range. Accuracy, speed, and he even spent part of the hour working on a new spell, Bombarda. By the time two hours was up he felt loose and limber, his muscles were warm from the exertion and he felt a sense of accomplishment for what he'd done, all without anyone pushing him or dragging him out of bed by his foot.

He hurried his way back to the tower and quickly showered, coming out dressed in his school uniform just as the other boys in his dorm began to stir.

"Morning, Harry," Neville said with a yawn as he spotted Harry heading for his bed.

"Morning Neville."

"Think you could wait for me?" Neville asked. "I'll walk down to breakfast with you and the girls."

Harry nodded, already looking forward to breakfast. He grabbed his book bag and slung it over his shoulder after shrugging into his robes. "See you downstairs," he called back over his shoulder as he left the dorm and made his way back downstairs and to what he thought of as _his_ armchair near the fire.

He pulled one of Lockhart's defense texts from his bag for a moment and considered it before making a disgusted face and shoved it back into his bag, instead pulling out the defense book Hermione had given him for Christmas the year before.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry was fully engrossed in his book, already adding to his mental list of spells that he wanted to learn, when he was brought back to reality by the feeling of a small hand on his shoulder. He very nearly flinched away from the light contact but his nose caught the scent of pine and strawberries and a smiled without looking up from his book.

"Good morning, Daphne," he said and she chuckled quietly as she moved around his chair to take a seat on the little sofa.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

He finally looked up from his book and focused on her, a smile on his face as he said, "trade secret," and gave her a wink.

She frowned at him in mock annoyance. "You know, one of these days I'm going to figure out how you do that."

He nodded, still smiling. "True," he admitted. "But not today." He closed his book after placing a piece of parchment between the pages to mark his place and the two chatted quietly for a few minutes until Susan, Hermione, and Neville came down the stairs from the dorms at almost the exact same time.

Daphne and Harry stood and met the others at the bottom of the stairs before they all headed out of the tower and made their way down to the Great Hall, eagerly looking forward to their first day of classes.

#####

On the first day of the new school year, Albus Dumbledore woke without his usual sensation of joy over the beginning of classes. Despite the many things he had been in his life, student, warrior, leader, politician, at heart he would always be an educator. Nothing filled him with joy quite like teaching did, and presiding over the school that he himself had attended as a boy had always been his greatest honor.

But this year, his joy fell under a dark shadow. The night before was when it all began. Hogwarts wards had warned him. Something dark had entered the school with the arriving students. Something familiar that he couldn't quite place and, not for the first time, he cursed the wards general lack of specificity. They told him of the dark and malevolent presence, but could not tell him who, what, or where.

Sitting at the staff table early in the morning as the first early risers began to slowly trickle in for breakfast, he quietly observed them, hoping to catch some glimpse, some hint of who the culprit might be.

He was to be disappointed. By the end of the meal there had been nothing that caught his attention. He cursed mentally, paying absolutely no attention to the morning conversation amongst the rest of the staff as he considered the future that lay ahead of him.

His summer had been less than relaxing. Amelia Bones had made certain of that after the debacle surrounding the Stone last year. There had been several investigations in regards to his choice to use the school as a place to attempt to capture dark wizards unknown, since the Minister had flat out refused to even entertain the possibility that Lord Voldemort might not be as dead as most people believed.

Lucius Malfoy had only been too pleased to push for Dumbledore's immediate dismissal as Headmaster and it had only been by virtue of calling in several favors owed to him by numerous individuals that he had been able to keep his position, but just barely. He worried what this new presence meant for the school and what might befall the students should he be forced out.

As breakfast ended, and the students began to make their way to class, he headed up to his office and started working his way through the ever present pile of parchment work that came along with the running of a school, one part of his mind still worrying over the problem but with no solution in sight.

#####

"…you might… _provoke_ them!" Harry mocked, imitating Lockhart from their first Defense class that day. "Seriously is he deranged?" he asked his friends and his bond mates.

They were all in the Room of Requirement, configured into a comfortable study space, before dinner. Some of them were relaxing while others had already begun their homework.

Neville, Tracey, Hannah, and Blaise had a mixture of expressions on their faces. The two boys looked as disgusted as Harry was while the girls appeared incensed by the insults Harry was directing at their new favorite teacher.

"Just because he doesn't teach his class the way you think he should doesn't make him deranged, Potter," Tracey snapped, waspishly.

"Right," Hannah chimed in. "I'm sure it was all deliberate. A test or something to see how the class would handle the situation."

"Hannah, you weren't there," Susan tried in a much calmer tone of voice. "The man is very clearly incompetent."

Hannah glared at her friend. "Just because you've already got your dream doesn't mean to have to ruin things for the rest of us," she snapped and the four bond mates plus Neville all froze, their eyes darting toward Blaise, who seemed rather bemused by the sudden attention directed his way.

"Hannah," Susan started slowly, "I really don't know what you're implying, but maybe we should discuss it later?"

Hannah flushed, realizing quickly how close she had just come to blurting out the secret of the bond, and nodded sharply as the group fell into an uneasy silence.

They remained that way for several tense minutes before Harry finally broke the silence. "They should be serving dinner soon," he said after a quick glance at a clock that had appeared on one wall. "Why don't we pack up and head down?"

Grateful for the excuse, the group hastened to agree and packed up their work before they all trooped out of the room and into the hallway, the door vanishing behind them after it swung quietly closed.

Blaise strode ahead of the rest of them, still unwilling to be seen with them outside of class or the library, leaving them to enter the Great Hall some distance behind him.

"I'm so sorry about that," Hannah hissed in Susan's ear as the made their way toward the Hufflepuff table. They had decided to start alternating which table they took their meals at between Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, since they had friends from every house in their group, if they included Luna. Despite having two Slytherins in the group, however, no one suggested eating some of their meals at the Slytherin table.

"It's fine," Susan muttered back to her friend. "Just please, be more careful." She didn't need to explain that, even without Blaise not being 'in' on the secret, Harry was probably far from ready to contemplate where the bond might eventually lead their relationship. Privately, Susan felt that _she_ wasn't ready to contemplate it, and she'd known for a long time the possible outcome of being bonded to another.

Hannah nodded but said nothing else as they sat at the table and began piling food onto their plates. The group of seven students received a few strange looks from some of the 'Puffs, but nobody said anything against their presence.

Half way through the meal, however, their casual discussion was interrupted by a question.

"Hey, Harry?"

Harry looked up from his plate to find Cedric Diggory looking at him from across the table and to his right, sitting on Hannah's left side.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"I don't mean to pry, and if it's none of my business just tell me, but I was curious. Is the reason you guys always sit that way related to your sorting last year?"

Harry blinked and glanced to the girls on either side of him for a moment before turning his attention back to the fifth year.

"I'm not really sure I understand the question," Harry said, after noting the same confusion that he felt on his girls faces and filtering through their bond. "What do you mean?"

Cedric shifted in his place on the bench and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table in front of him. "Well," he said. "The four of you nearly always sit the same way with Granger on your right side, Bones on your left, and Greengrass on _her_ left.

"When you four where sorted Granger and Bones were sitting to your right and left and with Greengrass at your back, you could argue that she was sitting on Bones' left side. I was just curious if that was why you still sit that way."

While Harry blinked again, startled to think that anyone would wonder about something so unimportant he noticed a number of nearby students paying very close attention to the discussion. A moment later he found his own attention being drawn to Daphne when she started to laugh quietly.

"I'm sorry, Mister Diggory," she said. "I don't mean to laugh, but really the reason why we tend to arrange ourselves this way is much simpler than you think, and, I do not believe that it is at all related to our sorting, even though we don't really know why exactly the hat arranged us the way it did."

Cedric arched a brow at her. "Please," he said, "it's Cedric and would you be willing to enlighten me?"

"It really is very simple, Cedric," she said with a small nod in his direction as she lifted her left hand and brandished the fork she was holding. "We tend to arrange ourselves the way we do because I am left handed."

Cedric considered that for a moment before he started laughing. "You're right," he finally said after a few minutes spent laughing at his own mistake, "that is a much simpler explanation."

#####

In the very early morning hours, a single candle burned, illuminating the surface of an old desk free of clutter or decoration save for a bottle of ink and a quill pen. A pair of hands set a simple black book down on the desk before opening it to a blank, lined page.

One hand lifted the quill and dipped it into the ink before setting the tip to the page.

 _Today was the first day of class. Some of my classes are interesting, but I'm not sure I like it here._

The ink gleamed wetly on the page by the light of the candle for several long moments before it faded away, leaving a blank page behind.

Seconds later, new words appeared on the page, written in a different, but elegant, hand.

 _ **Tell me all about it. I'm here for you.**_

The words slowly faded and the hand put quill to page once again as it began to write.

 _Thank you, so much. Sometimes, I feel like you're my only real friend, Tom…_

Long into the night a figure sat hunched over the book, the silence broken only by the steady scratching of the quill across the page.

Elsewhere in the castle, an old wizard's sleep was fitful and restless as the castle's wards tried to tell him that the dark object he'd sensed was growing in strength.

 **Authors Note 2.0: I honestly have no clue if Daphne is supposed to be right or left handed in cannon. It just worked so perfectly with the way things have happened that I decided to run with it.**

 **That is all.**

 **Rtnwriter**


	21. Lovegood, Lockhart, and Mudbloods

**Authors Note: And the Rotten Writer returns again with another update. I want to thank everyone for reading, once again. The favorites, follows, and reviews do much to encourage and motivate me to keep coming up with more chapters for you all to enjoy.**

 **Some have commented on how Harry appears to have forgotten about the chest he went to so much trouble to acquire from Petunia. Please trust me, I haven't forgotten about it, and neither has Harry, honestly. I just planned to reveal more about it in pieces over the course of the upcoming school year. It's going to be the basis that's going to spur some further AU elements of the story as we drift further and further from the cannon storyline. Believe me, I've got plans in place and there is a method to my madness, I swear.**

 **With that said, there's a brief mention of the chest in this chapter but it's next chapter when I'll really go into it some more.**

 **Not a whole lot of other news going on here at the moment so I'll just skip ahead and let you guys get to reading.**

 **Disclaimer: As always, I own not the Harry Pooter franchise or any characters that aren't an original creation of my own. I don't think I've actually used any yet in the story but there may be some popping up in the future, we shall see what we shall see.**

 **Anyway, do, please enjoy chapter 20 of Soul Scars.**

Soul Scars Part Two

Darkness Within

By,

Rtnwriter

"What was _that_?" Harry practically yelled as he and his friends left the Great Hall on Friday morning. His ears were still ringing from the magically amplified voice of one Molly Weasley. He was honestly surprised that it had taken her two days to send the letter, whatever it was, to Ron. Harry had noticed the bright red envelope that had been dropped onto Ron's breakfast plate, and the way everyone in the immediate vicinity had backed away in sudden fear, but the smoking envelope had erupted before he got the chance to ask about it.

"Howler!" Neville said from right beside Harry, also speaking slightly louder than normal. "When you can't contact someone in person or by Floo, a Howler is a great way to yell at them in a way that a simple letter just couldn't convey."

"Well I think it's absolutely horrid," Hermione sniffed. "Airing family issues like that in public and humiliating poor Ronald to boot."

Harry almost hated to admit it, but he was in total agreement with Hermione. He still didn't like Ron much, but no one deserved that kind of humiliation. In general, he felt bad for the majority of the Weasley clan. Ron's thoughtless action had caused some far reaching problems for the family. Harry rather liked the twins and Mister Weasley in particular and he really hoped the whole situation was as serious as it appeared to be.

"Harry," Susan suddenly hissed at him as they were making their way across the Entrance Hall and toward the Grand Staircase that led up into the rest of the school. "Hide."

Without pausing to ask why, he simply did as he was told, yanking his invisibility cloak from his bag and throwing it around himself. A moment later, just as he lifted the hood and vanished completely from view, one of the two primary reasons that he'd started carrying the cloak with him wherever he went came into view.

"Good morning," Gilderoy Lockhart called out cheerfully as he spotted Neville and the girls standing there. He flashed them his most winning smile, his perfectly white teeth seeming to gleam unnaturally in the morning light.

"Good morning, Professor," they chorused back.

"I don't suppose any of you have seen Mister Potter this morning, have you?"

"It's Lord Potter, Professor," Neville corrected him. "And no, we haven't seen him."

"Of course, of course," he said, distractedly waving off the correction, his eyes sweeping the hall as a frown settled over his features. Beneath the cloak Harry frowned as well, wondering how it was that the man _still_ managed to look handsome, despite the severe expression on his face. "That's a pity," he said. "I had promised him a few pointers on dealing with his fans that I know he was looking forward to."

Harry did his best not to snort out a laugh and give himself away.

Lockhart appeared tragically forlorn for a moment before he suddenly brightened and cranked up the wattage on his smile. "Well, when you see him, do let him that I was looking for him, won't you?" Without waiting fora reply he strode past them, his lilac colored robes billowing about him as he walked, almost as impressively as Snape's.

Harry sidled up close to Hermione and muttered, ""I really don't know how he manages to walk around in here," causing her to jump slightly in surprise. "With the size of his ego it's amazing he can get in the front entrance, much less fitting his swollen head through the halls."

"It's really strange trying to talk to you when we can't see you, you know that, right?" Hermione pointed out and he pulled off his cloak, tucking it back into his bag with a sheepish grin as Hermione just rolled her eyes at him.

The constant, unsolicited advice from their Defense Professor was one reason why Harry did his best to avoid the pretentious fop whenever he could. Harder to avoid however was-

"All right, Harry?"

Harry groaned mentally and turned around.

"Hello, Colin," he said, trying not to let his exasperation enter his tone. That was the other reason he'd started carrying the cloak. Colin Creevey was a new first year Gryffindor with a penchant for photography and a serious case of Boy-Who-Lived hero worship. It was because of Colin, and his asking to take Harry's photo and would Harry please sign it once it was developed, that had cause Lockhart to take an even greater interest in him.

Harry was positive that, somehow, Colin had memorized his class schedule because he would pop up, seemingly out of nowhere, six or seven times a day asking, "all right, Harry?" Nothing seemed to give the boy a greater thrill that these simple interactions.

"He's harmless, Harry," Hermione reminded him a minute later when the excitable boy had continued on his way toward his first class of the day.

"I know," he admitted with a frustrated sigh. "It's just frustrating. He doesn't even know _me_ , but he's got this idea in his head about me."

"Just like the Thestrals, right Harry Potter?"

Harry smiled as a welcome voice broke into their conversation and turned to look at Luna, who had walked up behind them as they were talking.

"Hello, Luna," he greeted her. "You're right, very much like the Thestrals. How have you been settling in?" he asked after he shrugged off his annoyance with Colin and his antics.

"I've been doing well enough, I suppose," she said, bobbing her head as she spoke so that her radish earrings bounced and shook. "There appears to be a terrible Wrackspurt infestation at this school, however."

Harry was just about to ask what a Wrackspurt was when Hermione beat him to it.

"Wrackspurts are invisible little creatures that float in through a persons ear and then their brains go all fuzzy," Luna said in her breezy tones, her head cocked to the side and her unfocused gaze peering at the air around Hermione's head. "There are a lot of students with a bad case of Wrackspurts, you see. That's why I got out my earrings," she added, touching the radish dangling from her right ear lightly with one hand. "Radishes act as a Wrackspurt repellant."

Harry shook his head, thinking he might be more confused now than he was before her explanation.

Before anyone could say anything else, though, Luna said, "well, I have to get to class now, please let me know if you come across any Butterbeer corks, won't you? I need five more to make a necklace."

They stared after her as the started skipping down the hall again. A moment later, they shook themselves out of their Luna induced stupor and resumed making their own way towards the Charms classroom.

The group had only gone a dozen steps when Daphne noticed that Harry wasn't with them.

"Harry?" she asked stopping to look back at where he was still standing, staring off in the direction that Luna had gone.

He turned and started toward them, a thoughtful frown on his face. "Was she wearing two left shoes?" he asked once he reached them.

Hermione shrugged. "I didn't notice her shoes, but it wouldn't surprise me. Honestly, Wrackspurts?" she shook her head in evident disgust. "She really is a very odd girl."

"Odd doesn't mean bad, or wrong. And it also doesn't account for wearing the wrong shoes," Neville pointed out, glaring at Hermione slightly.

Hermione looked less than convinced, but she let the matter drop as they reached their classroom and headed inside to take their seats.

#####

The rest of Friday passed relatively without incident save for one moment in Charms when Ron Weasley's wand, broken after his run in with the Whomping Willow, shot from his hand as he was attempting to cast the new charm they were learning and struck Professor Flitwick right between the eyes. When class was finally over there was still a large and angry green boil on the tiny professors face, right where the wand had struck him.

In fact, no one in any class wanted to work with, or near, Ron Weasley. Spellotape just wasn't enough to fix the broken wand and even the simplest of spells had a tendency to go dangerously awry.

So, with one thing or another, dodging fans and idiot professors and the like, Harry was thrilled when the weekend finally arrived. On Saturday morning after dressing, he headed downstairs to find the girls waiting for him in the common room. Together, they made their way to the Room of Requirement and spent two hours training. The girls focused on spell practice as Harry spent the first hour on his physical training and he was pleased when he managed half a mile more on his run than he had on the first day.

The second hour he joined the girls in practicing spells before they headed back to the tower at just past seven-thirty in the morning. When the portrait swung open they were met with a blast of sound and found what looked like every single Gryffindor from each year, as well as Professor McGonagall standing around talking quickly or running around in a panic. The noise was such that they couldn't make heads or tails of what any of them were saying.

The prefects and some of the other upper year students appeared to be question the second years, scurrying back and forth from one student to the next. Oliver, the burly sixth year Quidditch Captain was standing in the middle of the round room yelling and waving his arms around while the rest of the Quidditch team appeared to be trying to calm him down.

Through all of that, their Head of House stood and observed with a thoughtful frown on her usually stern face. Harry stepped up next to her and cleared his throat in an attempt to get her attention.

When she didn't seem to be able to hear him, he spoke up, "Professor?" he asked, causing the elderly witch to start and turn toward him. "What's going on?"

Professor McGonagall blinked owlishly at him for a moment before she drew her want and used it to let of a loud boom like a cannon blast that caught the attention of the rest of their House and every single student fell instantly quiet, staring at the five figures standing near the open portrait hole.

"Lord Potter," the professor said into the sudden silence. "This chaos that you just witnessed is the result of several students being found missing from their beds this morning. I don't have to tell you what happened the last time this particular group of students were found missing when most would have expected them to be in bed, asleep. Would you care to explain?"

"You thought we were missing?" he asked.

The professor arched a single brow at him. "You were not in your beds, nor were any of you located in the tower."

"That doesn't automatically mean missing. We were simply elsewhere," he pointed out.

"I tried to tell Oliver, Harry," Neville said as he made his way over to them. "When he tried to wake you up for Quidditch practice this morning and you weren't in bed, he panicked."

Professor McGonagall studied them silently for a few moments before she seemed to come to a decision and turned to face the assembled crowd of students. "All of you, go back about your business. This crisis is over. You five, come with me, please," she added the last to Harry and the others and strode from the room, confident that her cubs would be right behind her.

Five minutes later found them seated in the professors office as she considered them carefully from across her desk. The five students were sitting in simple high backed wooden chairs, Hermione fidgeting slightly in worry that she might be getting in trouble. She didn't think they'd done anything wrong, but who knew what old rules were in place that they might have stepped over. Daphne and Susan were both a picture of calm while Harry and Neville both appeared to be more confused than anything else.

"So," McGonagall said after several minutes of silence. "Who wants to explain to me what happened today?" Minerva liked to think that she could learn from her mistakes and she was doing her best not to jump to conclusions.

The kids all exchanged a series of looks before Harry sighed and cleared his throat. "Do you remember last Halloween when I said I was getting up early in the mornings to practice my spell work?" he asked and she nodded. "Well I still do that, and last year, the same day as that disaster Quidditch game, Hermione, Susan, and Daphne started joining me. Last month I also started an exercise regimen that Healer Gant recommended. So, every morning I spend at least an hour exercising and another hour on spells."

"Oliver came into the dorm at six this morning to wake Harry up," Neville said, jumping into the explanation. "He woke the rest of us when he found the bed was empty and then Katie Bell went to ask them if they knew where he was," he added, motioning to Hermione, Susan, and Daphne.

"And when they were missing as well they panicked and assumed the worst," the professor finished. Neville nodded and she sat back in her chair, considering the situation.

"Well," she said after a few minutes of thought. "I would have to double check the charter in regards to curfew, but I do not believe that you broke any school rules. If I am not mistaken, I do believe that five o'clock is the earliest that students are allowed to leave their dorms. What spells have you been working on, if you don't mind?"

Wordlessly, Harry pulled a folded piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it over. She unfolded it and read through the list, her mouth twitching occasionally at a few of the spells.

"Some of these are very advanced and quite dangerous," she said as she handed the list back.

"Yes, Ma'am," Harry agreed. "We're being very careful with those that could cause greater damage."

"I fail to see how it is possible to be careful with a siege engine spell in an old unused classroom," she said.

"We aren't using a classroom, Professor. We were told about a different room last year and have been using that one since."

Harry practically held his breath as they waited to see what McGonagall would say. Would she try to tell them they couldn't train? Would they be in trouble? Harry was sure he'd checked all the relevant rules but…

"There is nothing in the school charter that forbids students from practicing outside of class or ahead of their year group," she finally admitted, and Harry, for one, breathed a sigh of relief. "However," she went on and he tensed up all over again. "I have to say that I do not like the idea of you practicing some of those spells without qualified supervision."

She tapped the surface of her desk a few times as she thought over the situation before she suddenly turned and rose from her seat to walk over to the fireplace. Taking a pinch of Floo powder from a jar on the mantle she called out, "Goblins lair," and threw down the powder. Once it turned green she kneeled down and stuck her head in the fire. "Filius?" she called. "Are you there?"

The five students looked at each other in varying degrees of confusion but none of them had anything to say as their Head of House conducted a brief conversation. When she stepped back from the fireplace it flared green again few seconds later and the diminutive Charms Master stepped through.

"Ah," he said when he stepped from the flames and saw the five of them sitting there before Professor McGonagall's desk. "I do hope there's no trouble?" he asked. "Not with five of my best students here."

Neville flushed brightly at the praise while Hermione seemed to sit up even straighter than usual in her seat. Daphne's face showed nothing, calm as ever, but Harry could feel a glow of satisfaction across their bond while Susan seemed rather ambivalent of the compliment.

"No trouble, exactly," McGonagall said. She quickly explained what happened that morning to Filius great amusement at the thought of the house of Lions running about like chickens with their heads cut off. At the appropriate point in her recounting she motioned for Harry to show Professor Flitwick his list of spells that they were working on learning.

"Hmm…" he hummed as he read through the list.

"As you can see, some of those could be problematic," McGonagall said. "They say that have a place to practice where the spells pose no problems to the school. I was just going to ask to see this training space and if it meets your approval would you be willing to supervise on the days they work on the more advanced spells?"

"What?" Harry blurted out before he could stop himself. He had been certain the professors were going to attempt to dissuade them from their practice

"I was a world renowned Dueling Champion for many years, Lord Potter, if you are concerned at my ability to judge your readiness for the spells in question," Flitwick said.

Harry shook his head. "It's just Harry, please," he said, almost automatically. "I meant, you're not going to try to talk us out of training?" Harry had to admit, he was confused by the direction this conversation had taken. Some of the spells they were planning to work on _were_ quite dangerous.

Flitwick observed them carefully for a moment, his sharp eyes seeming to pierce them individually before returning to Harry. "Minerva explained to me what happened last year with the stone," Flitwick said. "Something the Headmaster felt he did not need to inform the rest of the staff about and something we have been arguing with him about all summer. It is obvious, now, that You-Know-Who is not as dead as we thought and he seems to have a fixation on you. I cannot tell you not to train to defend yourself and still expect my conscience to allow me to sleep at night, however, I also cannot let you try these kinds of spells on your own, either.

"So, let us see this training facility of yours and we shall see what we can agree on from there, shall we?"

Eagerly agreeing, the students lead their professors to the seventh floor where Harry demonstrated how to open the door to the Room by pacing three times in front of the empty stretch of wall. The shock on their faces when the door appeared was enough to cause a smirk to appear on the students faces as Harry pulled the door open and motioned them inside.

Harry had requested the same configuration he'd been using with the girls since the first day of class with the firing range on one side and the physical training set up on the other. Professors Flitwick and McGonagall stared at the room in shock as they entered and in moments Flitwick was away and inspecting the dueling platform and firing range with a critical eye as Harry explained what they knew the room to be capable of with the girls help.

"I've heard of this room before," their Head of House said, still somewhat shocked. "It's a legend around the school but I never thought that it was real. How ever did you discover it?"

Harry flushed and fidgeted nervously for a moment before he answered. "One of the castle's house elves told us about it, actually," he admitted. "I Reductoed a wall in the class room I had been using last year and the elf got mad at me because of the damage and showed us this room so that I wouldn't break things anymore."

The professor blinked once in surprise at that but decided she really didn't want to know any more so quickly moved on before that line of discussion could be followed any further.

"Filius?" she called, turning to her old friend. "What do you think of the space?"

"This room is absolutely perfect for your needs," he said, practically bouncing with glee. "I would be happy to supervise your practice on those days when you intend to work on the most dangerous spells. Will it be all five of you?" he added, eyeing the entire group.

"Nev?" Harry asked. "You've got a new wand. Ready to start practicing with us?"

"Won't I be holding you guys back at this point? You're all so far ahead of me."

"I'm sure you'll catch on just fine, Neville," Susan assured him. "We'll help you and we can keep working on other spells while you're practicing the ones we already know."

Neville glanced at Harry who have his friend a firm nod and an encouraging grin.

"All right," he said after a moments thought. "I'm in."

Flitwick grinned broadly and clapped his hands sharply once. "Excellent," he crowed. "Then I shall see you all tomorrow morning at six o'clock, correct?"

"Yes, Professor, and thank you," Harry said as Neville's eyes widened in the realization of just how early he was going to have to start getting up in the mornings truly hit him.

"Think nothing of it, Lord Potter, I'm looking forward to seeing what you are all capable of."

#####

By the time Harry had managed to impress upon their Charms Professor that he would prefer to be addressed as Harry, and they were otherwise finished with their discussion with the two professors, breakfast was nearly over, so Harry led the way to the kitchens where they asked the house elves for something to tide them over until lunch, which they were only too happy to provide.

"It still feels like taking advantage of their nature, somehow," Hermione muttered, still less then thrilled with the concept of the house elf bond even though it had been thoroughly explained to her.

"And I can agree that some families do treat their house elves horribly, and the fact that there aren't any laws to prevent it is awful, and something we'll look into fixing when we're older," Harry told her as they were making their way toward Gryffindor tower. "But the elves here in the castle, and those at Bones Manor or Longbottom Hall are all treated with respect and courtesy, much like any hired servant would be."

"Except they're not paid," Hermione pointed out.

"Except they are paid," Harry cut her off before she could get going. "They're paid in room and board and in a bond that _literally_ keeps them sane and alive. The laws are the problem, not the bond itself or that house elves serve witches and wizards."

Hermione scowled and tossed her arms over her chest but she couldn't really argue the point. Even if she'd had something further to argue it wouldn't have made much difference because they finally reached the portrait of the fat lady and stepped inside after giving the password to find Oliver Wood standing not far from the entrance, arms crossed over his chest and with a frightful glower on his face.

"Did she kick you off the team?" he demanded before they had all even stepped into the common room.

"What?" Harry asked, bewildered. "No she didn't-"

"So just house points then?" Oliver asked, cutting Harry off. "How many? And how do you intend on earning them back?"

"I didn't lose any house poin-"

"Detention?" Oliver blurted out, drawing the attention of half the common room as his voice grew louder with every other word. "That's the last thing we need right now, Potter!" he snapped. "If you can't keep yourself from breaking the school rules-"

"But I didn't-" Harry tried to interject but Oliver just kept ranting right over him.

"-Then the least you can do is try to get better at not getting caught…"

This continued for several minutes while Harry, Susan, and even Neville tried to get a word in edgewise until, finally, Daphne put two fingers in her mouth and let out an ear piercing whistle that shocked all of them into silence.

"Thank you," she said when they all turned their attention to her. "Now,Wood, if you would _shut up_ for a few seconds and listen to answers instead of running off at the mouth you might learn something," Daphne hissed in a dangerous tone of voice that, along with the angry glare she directed at him, had the much larger sixth year student going pale with fear.

"Thank you, Daphne," Harry said, impressed by how easily she'd cowed Wood. "Oliver, I'm not in any trouble at all. I didn't break any school rules so no lost points, no detentions, nothing."

"Why weren't you in bed this morning?" Oliver asked hesitantly after Harry finished.

"I've been getting up at 5 since last year to do some spell practice in the mornings before breakfast," Harry explained. "Except for the days when we had a morning Quidditch practice."

"We were supposed to have practice today."

Susan looked over at the bulletin board mounted near the portrait hole. "Did you post it on the board?" she asked and Oliver flushed slightly.

"Uhhh… no, I forgot to, actually," he admitted sheepishly.

"Then it's your own fault," Hermione told him a dismissive sniff. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we are going to go get cleaned up."

With that the three girls made their way across the common room and up the stairs to the girls dorm, quickly disappearing from sight.

"They are right scary, Mate," Oliver muttered to Harry who only shrugged.

"Only if you do something stupid to piss them off," he said before turning his attention more fully onto the older student. "Was there anything else you needed? I want to go shower and change too."

"Actually, there were a couple of other things I needed to go over with you real quick…"

#####

"So, after all that fuss he made about you not being available for practice they weren't even able to use the pitch?" Susan asked, aghast at Oliver's behavior.

Harry nodded and quickly swallowed the mouthful of turkey he'd been chewing. "Pretty much," he said. "It looks like Malfoy bought his way onto the Slytherin team as their new Seeker by supplying the entire team with brand new Nimbus 2001 racing brooms."

She made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat and stabbed the food on her plate viciously a couple of times with her fork.

"Yeah, that was about my reaction, too," Harry said with a quiet chuckle at her behavior.

"Incoming ponce at six o'clock," Neville suddenly muttered from across the Gryffindor table where the five of them, plus Hannah and Tracey had been enjoying a peaceful lunch period after the chaotic morning that most of them had had. They'd already filled the Slytherin and Hufflepuff girls in on what'd happened that morning and Harry had really hoped to have a quiet Saturday.

"Heard about the new brooms, did you Scarhead?" Malfoy taunted as he walked up behind Harry who sighed and turned around the face the arrogant Slytherin.

"I beat you on a regular basis, Malfoy," Harry said, ticking off a list of items on his fingers. "I beat you physically on the train in first year. I beat you during our flying lesson last year as well. I regularly beat you in class since I always seem to outperform you during our lessons and so far you've really yet to come out ahead in any of these little altercations that you seem to insist on trying to drag me into. Do you really want me to beat you on the pitch as well?"

Malfoy's sneer twitched for a moment but was quickly back in place. "On the brooms your team is flying you won't have a chance against us," he snapped.

"That might be true," Harry admitted with a nod, ignoring the way Fred and George protested his admission from behind him where they'd been sitting eating their own lunch. "But that just accounts for the rest of the team who have regularly dominated in our matches on those lesser brooms. You'll still be going against me on brooms of similar quality. Skill will be all that matter in that case."

"And at least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way one," said Hermione sharply. "They got in on skill and talent alone."

The smug look that Malfoy had been wearing flickered and finally fell as his cheeks reddened. "What would you know about it. You're nothing but a filthy little mudblood."

There was an immediate uproar by everyone within earshot at the Gyrffindor table. Daphne and Susan both started shouting loudly over each other at Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle practically dove in front of the blond to head off Fred and George who had flung themselves across the table at the Malfoy scion, and from somewhere behind him Harry heard, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" followed by a loud bang.

"What is the meaning off all this?"

Everyone froze as the silky tones voice cut through the general noise and chaos like a hot knife through butter. Harry turned, not even sure when he'd jumped to his feet, to find Professor Snape standing next to Ron Weasley on the other side of the table. Ron was sitting on the floor, groaning and clutching his stomach when he suddenly turned to the side and belched up several fat and glistening slugs.

A moment later there was a bright flash and Harry glared at Colin, who gave him a sheepish look and quickly scurried away before he managed to drag any more unwanted attention to himself.

"The Weasley's and Potter tried to attack us, Professor," Malfoy said before anyone else could speak up.

"That's a lie!" Susan shouted, "Professor he called-"

"I did not ask you for your opinion on this Miss Bones," Snape interrupted her. "Weasley twins, detention with me tonight." He glanced down at Ron. "You and Potter will both be serving a detention as well," he said with a sneer. "Your Head of House will inform you of hat you will be doing tonight immediately following dinner." He made his way around the table and started ushering his Slytherins away from the group of students.

As he ushered them along he looked back over his shoulder, meeting Harry's eyes, "and that will be twenty points from each Gryffindor that was involved in this most cowardly attack."

Harry fumed, wondering what had happened to the somewhat truce he and the potions master seemed to have reached the previous year, his hands shaking with anger before a soft touch against his right hand caught his attention and he looked down to find Hermione pushing his hand down. He had no idea how his wand had come to be in his grip but he flicked his wrist and let it shoot back up his sleeve into his holster as Hermione's touch calmed him.

Eventually he gave her a grateful smile and turned, clambering over the table to step down next to Ron who was still sitting there on the floor belching slugs into his lap. "What happened to Ron?" he asked as he helped the twins drag their little brother to his feet.

"He tried to hex Malfoy," Neville said. "But with his wand the way it is, well…" he trailed off and shrugged.

 _His wand must have backfired on him,_ Harry thought.

Together, the twins along with Neville, Harry, Hermione, Susan, and Daphne, escorted Ron to the hospital wing, leaving a trail of slugs in their wake. When they finally entered the wing, Madam Pomfrey came hurrying out of her office, took one look at Harry and let out a deep sigh.

"Lord Potter," she said as she walked over, "just what have you managed to do to yourself this time?"

"Oi!" Harry protested to the accompanying snickers from his friends. "I'm not at all injured, Madam Pomfrey, it's Ron here that needs looking at. And whatever happened to calling me Harry? I thought we settled that last Halloween."

"That was before you took up your House Ring," Daphne pointed out. "Now that you have, and you've been outed publicly by the Prophet, it would be presumptuous of Madam Pomfrey to assume such continued familiarity without your permission."

"But she already has my permission," he argued.

"Given before you took up your title."

Harry had a pained look on his face as the twins helped Ron to sit on one of the empty beds and Neville found a trash bin for him.

"Remember formality, Harry," Daphne whispered in his ear as he turned back to face the Mediwitch.

"Madam Pomfrey," Harry said, straightening up to his full height. "Unless there is official reason for my title to be used I would be delighted if you would continue to address me as Harry."

She studied him for a quick moment before her lips quirked into a small smile and she nodded her head once in acknowledgement before turning her attention to Ron. "Now, what seems to be the trouble?" she asked just as Ron belched up another few slugs into the trash bin that Neville had handed him. He look miserable, pale, sweating, and trembling.

"How did it happen?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"He tried to cast a hex and because his wand is broken it backfired on him instead," Neville again supplied to appropriate information since he was the only one to actually see what transpired.

The Mediwitch winced at that as she cast a few diagnostic spells and carefully studied the information provided. Susan was staring intently at the spells, but couldn't make heads or tails of any of it herself.

"Well, unfortunately there's not really much to be done in situations like this but to let it run it's course. Better out than in, I always say." She patted Ron comfortingly on the shoulder and then rounded on the rest of them with a stern glare in place. "The rest of you can stay for a while, but not for too long and you had all better keep the noise down while you're here, am I understood?" she asked sternly and they all nodded rapidly, unwilling to risk the Mediwitch's wrath.

She gave her trademark 'humph,' and headed back to her office, leaving the students to gather together enough chairs for them all to sit around the bed, where they sat and stared at each other in silence for several minutes before Harry sighed and leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees with his hands clasped together in front of him, his gaze steady on Ron.

"You know, Ron," he said in a conversational tone of voice. "I really don't much care for it when my entire view of things is shifted on its ear. Which is basically what you've done today."

Most of those assembled gave him similarly confused looks

"After the majority of the crap you pulled last year, insulting me, insulting my friends, and what you said about Daphne… I was pretty bound and determined to want to basically hate your guts from here until doomsday. But then you go and do something like that, attempt to hex Malfoy in Hermione's defense." Harry sighed and shook his head. "So, does anyone want to explain exactly what it was that Malfoy said that was so terrible that it got everyone riled up?"

Ron's face twisted into a scowl and he immediately opened his mouth to answer but had to bury his face in the trash bin as more slugs came up and he waved vaguely to the others in the room for them to explain.

"Harry, you're aware there's a certain portion of our society that looks down on muggles and those first generation witches and wizards born from muggle parents, right?" One of the Weasley twins started and Harry nodded. For simplicities sake Harry dubbed them Twin one and Twin two in his head.

Twin two took up the thread of the explanation then, "well, that name that Malfoy used-"

"Mudblood-" Twin one spat out with an impressive sneer twisting his lips.

"It's a really-"

"offensive term meant for-"

"people like Hermione, here."

"People with muggle parents, Harry," Susan spoke up so they could stop the game of twin pong and Harry turned his focus onto her. "It all goes back to that idea that some people have that having magic makes them better or superior in some way. So, basically he's saying that Hermione is tainted, that her blood is dirty because she's muggleborn."

"Which is absolutely ridiculous," Neville hastened to jump in as Harry's eyes hardened and a few loose objects near them started to rattle. "We all know that, Harry. There isn't a spell that's been invented that Hermione couldn't learn, I'm certain of that. But, people like Malfoy, they're so certain of their own superiority that they can't even imagine the possibility that their view of the world could be wrong."

Harry calmed down again, regarding them each carefully as he considered that. "So, it's a pointless phrase that really has no meaning other than what a certain minority group have assigned to it?" he asked for clarification and the twins blinked before barking out a laugh.

"Yeah-"

"pretty much-"

"oh Seeker our Seeker," they finished in unison causing the assembled group to chuckle quietly for a moment.

"Well, that's another thing we'll have to look at changing when we're older, won't we?" Harry said in and aside to Hermione sitting on his right as he took her hand in his and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Ummmm… Harrykins?" Twin two spoke up. "How do you think you'll be able to do that?"

Harry shrugged. "It shouldn't be _too_ difficult, really, to make some changes into how the laws are written, not with the powerhouse we have here, right?" He looked around at the sea of blank faces with only Daphne smirking at him in tacit approval. The once Slytherin bound girl loved it when Harry used that cunning that he had lurking inside. It just made her feel all warm inside to watch him play a situation like a fiddle.

"Bones, Longbottom, Greengrass, Potter," Harry said, pointing at the person attached to each name in turn, ending with a finger touching the tip of his own nose. "Four Most Ancient and Noble Houses with some serious political clout, and the ability to garner more if we need to. Abbot is an Ancient line but not noble so her family has less political pull but she still has a seat on the Wizengamont waiting for her in the future. Blaise Zabini and Tracey Davis are friends and while I know House Davis doesn't have a seat they do know a lot of people and House Zabini _does_ have a seat and he agrees with us that the whole pure blood crap is exactly that, crap, and it needs to go in a big way.

"Right now our parents and guardians are running our society, but one day we'll be the ones in charge. We'll be the ones in a position to make laws and enact change in this society. It starts with us, and when we get to that point, we'll be the ones that will drag the wizarding world kicking and screaming into the 20th century."

The majority of them just stared at him in stunned realization while Daphne continued to smirk at him but the twins had both broken out into gleeful grins that sent shivers up and down Harry's spine.

"Seriously, you two, it freaks me out when you do that," he said, leaning away from the two of them.

The entire groups snorted a laugh which resulted in Ron expelling a small slug from his nose to accompanying disgusted reactions from those sitting around the bed before the twins managed to bring the attention back onto themselves.

"Weasley is an Ancient line as well, Harrykins," Twin one pointed out.

"Dad lost his seat cause there's some expectation of wealth amongst members of the Mont, but he knows a lot of people and the Weasley family is well liked if not in the same circles as a lot of these other families."

"Basically, you can count on the Weasleys to support you when it comes to that," they finished once again together and Harry smiled, pleased to see the number of people he felt he could depend on growing.

"Ron? I was wondering about something," Susan said a few minutes later and took the boy's curious look as permission to continue. "Well… the barrier at Kings Cross was closed when you guys got there, right?" He nodded. "But my aunt was waiting there with an Auror cadet to help people get through, why did you show up in your dad's car?"

Ron flushed and buried his face back in the trash can as the twins burst out laughing.

"Ickle Ronniekins here has a problem with patience," Twin one started up the story.

"We arrived at the station-"

"-with minutes to spare, mind you, 'cause-"

"-you know, we Weasley's can't-"

"-ever be on time anywhere. I think that's-"

"-actually in our family motto."

"So we get there, and our mum and dad-"

"take Perfect Prefect Percy-"

"and ickle Gin-gin onto the platform with-"

"-side-along Apparation-"

"Then they come back and take our illustrious selves-"

"You mean mum practically threw us head first through the solid barrier anyway. Just to test how strong it really was," Twin two corrected twin one.

"Only because you were trying to convince Ronniekins that he was going to miss the train and they'd make him skip meals to make up for the aggravation caused."

"Either way, mum and dad took us across to the platform and hurried us along onto the train, which took another couple of minutes-"

"At which point, dad went back for Ron here-"

"only to find the little bugger had already-"

"scarpered for the car because-"

"we'd succeeded in scaring him-"

"past our wildest dreams."

"That still doesn't explain why my aunt didn't say anything or help?" Susan pointed out after she was reasonably sure she'd unraveled the threads of the story enough to follow along and the twins shared a glance and shrugged.

"No clue," they chimed in eerie unison.

"When we got there, there was no one else around," Twin one informed them.

"Though there was a notice-me-not up, so that's why the parentals-"

"decided it was ok to Apparate with us sprogs in public like they did."

"With how close they were cutting things in getting to the station," Daphne mused aloud, "your Aunt must have decided it was unlikely that anyone else would be showing up."

"She wouldn't just take off until time was officially over though."

"Maybe she was called away? Or something came up that she needed to deal with?" Harry suggested. "There's any number of possible reasons why she might have left the barrier before the end, but I don't know why Tonks wasn't still there at the least."

"So I'm going to guess you ran into Justin on the way out of the station and told him the barrier was closed?" Hermione asked Ron, a calculating look in her eye as he nodded.

"Yeah," he rasped out after wiping his mouth with the back of one hand. "He came up just after mum and dad took the twins so I told him we didn't have time and we ran for the car, figured we could just follow the tracks from the air. And it worked too," he added the last a touch defensively.

"Ron, you guys were in the evening edition of the Prophet. The car was seen flying all across the country on the way up here."

He shrugged. "Well, mostly worked. The invisibility booster cut out before long and the engine started having trouble just before we got here. Thing cut off right over the grounds and that's when we crashed into the Willow. Honestly, it was a good thing we hit the tree, otherwise we'd have plowed nose first into the ground and we'd probably still be in here or at Saint Mungos from our injuries."

They settled into a general discussion after that, those unfamiliar members getting to know the others better, mostly Ron being introduced more officially to the rest of them and getting to know a bit about each other. He was still leary of Tracey and her Slytherin colors, but he made sure to keep his mouth shut, even if he did keep a closer eye on here than he did anyone else, even the twins.

After a few hours of quiet discussion where Madam Pomfrey, surprisingly, left them alone, she came bustling out of her office and shooed them away from the bed for a moment so she could cast another series of diagnostic charms on Ron. Susan stood at her elbow, far enough back that she wasn't in the way, but close enough that she could see the information the charms brought back hovering in the air between the Mediwtich and her patient. After examining the results Madam Pomfrey pronounced that the hex should have run its course and told them all to be about their day.

By the time they made it downstairs they were surprised to discover that Dinner was just being served so they made their way over to the Gryffindor table and when they sat to eat, the three youngest Weasley males joined them, swelling their already large group of seven to a solid ten students groped together.

Tracey and Hannah exchanged a look and sighed, causing Daphne and Susan to glance acres the table at them where they sat on either side of Neville.

"What is it?" Daphne asked.

"Oh, nothing much, really," Hannah said as she served herself from the platters arranged around the table.

"Yeah, we're just starting to realize that our pool of friends is more and more filled with Gryffindors," Tracey said, a teasing grin on her lips. "I'm thinking I need to talk Blaise into joining me over here so I don't feel quite so outnumbered."

"That's a good idea," Harry cut in. "If you think he'd actually join us, by all means. Think we should ask Luna if she wants to sit with us too?" Harry sat up straighter on the bench and craned his neck around, looking for the little blond at the Ravenclaw table but he didn't see her. "She must not have come down yet," he muttered and returned his attention to the table.

"We're going to have to add another table and take it over ourselves at the rate this group of friends is growing,"

Half of them laughed at Ron's comment while the other half already had their mouths full of food and the entire group quickly fell to their meal. That dinner solidified two opinions for Harry that he'd already been contemplating but was pleased to have further evidence to support his theories.

Item one; the twins really were a complete riot and a half as Harry was fairly certain that he spent more time laughing during dinner that night than he actually spent eating. Not that he was complaining. Fred and George seemed to be pathologically incapable of taking anything seriously, but he felt that there was more to the mischievous duo than they liked to let on.

Item two; Ron wasn't actually a malicious berk. He had simply been raised with a certain set of expectations about people and had an unfortunate tendency to speak before he thought. Harry couldn't really blame him for that, but he did make it clear that if Ron wanted to be friends with them then he had better work on engaging his brain a little more. And, Harry reminded him, he still owed Daphne an apology for Halloween the year before.

The entire table was startled when Ron immediately turned to Daphne and issued an honest and sincere sounding apology for his behavior the previous year, sighting frustration and a short temper as the cause of his outburst which in no way excused him, but was at least an explanation.

Daphne studied him carefully for several seconds before giving a curt nod. "I can accept that," she said. "As long as you work on that habit of yours. Just because someone is trying to help you with something, doesn't mean they're lording their knowledge over your head, like they think they're superior to you or something, understood, Weasley?"

Ron nodded rapidly, his mouth stuffed full of food, but thankfully he didn't try to answer verbally. Every girl at the table had already told him off multiple times for speaking with food in his mouth and it looked as if even Ron Weasley could learn a thing or two.

Once they'd all finish eating and the deserts had cleared off of the plates, Harry had been having such a pleasant time with his friends that something rather important completely slipped his mind. Right up until they made to leave the Great Hall and found their Head of House waiting for them.

"Oh," Ron said as he spotted her standing by the doors. "Right, detention."

 _Shite,_ Harry thought, but he settled himself with a resigned expression and stepped forward to accept his punishment.

"First, I would like to say that I do not agree with you having detentions tonight," she said after their friends had left and the twins had made their way down to the dungeons for their detention with Snape.

"However, the professors are forbidden from interfering with the judgement made by another member of the faculty outside of extreme circumstances, so I have no choice in the matter. Mister Weasley, you will go to the trophy room where Mister Filch is waiting to get you started on polishing the trophies and awards there. You will not be allowed to use any magic while you work so I'd hurry up and get started if I were you if you want to be done before tomorrow."

Ron groaned but obediently made his way toward the trophy room, his shoulders slumped as he called back a quiet, 'catch you later, Mate," to Harry.

"Lord Potter,-"

"Professor, I'm sorry do you have to use my title? I'm really not comfortable with it."

"I am aware, _Lord_ Potter," she said sternly, glaring at him for cutting her off. "Be thst as it may, the majority of the staff and I have decided that being in a professional setting, it would be professional for us to use your appropriate title. You are, of course, Lord of a Most Ancient and Noble House, and that title should be given the proper respect. Outside of class, or official school matters, some of us may use Mister Potter, or even just your given name, if we're, perhaps, having tea one evening?"

Harry smiled and nodded. "Just tell me when and I'll be there for sure, Professor."

McGonagall's lips almost twitched into a smile, but she kept her composure and gave him a slow nod. "Quite, I will be sure to inform you. As I was saying, however, Lord Potter, unfortunately for you, another member of the staff has specifically requested your assistance tonight."

Harry had, for a moment, been thrilled that the professor wanted to continue their occasional evenings chatting over tea that she'd started the previous year. He'd learned a lot from the aged witch about his parents and their time at school and he had plenty he'd discovered from the chest his mother had left for him that he wanted to discuss with her. But the way she spoke, and the meaningful look that she gave him had a sense of dread growing in the pit of his stomach that was proven more than correct with her next sentence.

#####

" _Come… come to me… Let me rip you… Let me tear you… Let me kill you…"_

Footsteps clattered loudly through the castle up one flight of stairs and down another before bolting through a secret passageway, darting down a corridor, jerking around a corner.

" _Come to me… come… come…. Come…. COME TO ME!"_

"Harry?"

"GAH!"

"EEP!"

"Son of a-"

"Harry James Potter, Language!"

"You scared the crap outta me, 'Mione, and you're still going to harp on me about my language?"

"I scared you? What are you doing running around like a lunatic? Look at you you're all sweaty and a mess. What scared you so badly?"

Harry stood, panting, in front of the open portrait hole leading into the Gryffindor common room. Hermione stood in the opening, one hand still clutched to her chest with the other holding the corner of the wall, as if to steady herself as she stared at him, her eyes wide with fright.

She was right, he was sweaty and disheveled and couldn't even think of getting his breath back or his pulse under control.

"Wait," Harry said a minute later after he'd started to calm a bit, "Why do you ask what scared me?"

Hermione blinked, confused by the question and took him by the hand, dragging him behind her into the common room and over to their corner by the fire. She dropped onto the sofa in between Daphne and Susan while Harry nodded a greeting to Neville, sitting drowsily in one of the chairs by the fire and he shrugged out of his robes, tossing them onto the chair.

"We could feel how scared you were," Hermione told him. "We do have a bond, remember?"

He half heartedly glared at her as he loosened his tie and undid the top few buttons of his uniform shirt. "Yes, I'm aware of the bond we share, Hermione, thank you. It's only caused me no end of trouble since I found out about it. Only the fact that it brought the three of you into my life makes it worth it," he muttered the last absently and the three girls stopped before any of them had a chance to snap at him and shared a look.

It was true, the bond, and subsequent furthering of said bond _had_ been a source of difficulty and confusion in all their lives. Hermione doubted Harry even understood what he'd just said there, but he'd managed to incite and then quell an epic level rant, all in two sentences.

"Dammit, Harry, you really drive me crazy sometimes, you know that, right?" Daphne blurted out as she sank back in their seat, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared at Harry, who blinked owlishly back at her.

"What? What'd I do?" he asked, completely bemused by the expressions on the girls faces and the emotions he could sense rolling across the bond they'd just been discussing.

Neville snorted, drawing the bonded quartet's collective gaze to him. "Harry, I'm barely conscious and even I figured that one out," he said, laughing as the confusion on his friends face grew even more apparent. "You just told them that the bond had been nothing but trouble for you. You honestly think they wouldn't find that insulting, or hurtful?" Harry's eyes widened dramatically but before he could blurt out an apology Neville continued. "Then, of course, you immediately followed that up with pointing out that the three of them being a part of your life made all the trouble worth it. I'm pretty sure they don't know whether to slap you or hug you at the moment."

Harry started when a pair of arms drew him into a hug and then relaxed as he caught the scent of honeysuckle and ivory polish, and he relaxed slightly into Susan's hug. It'd taken him a long time to figure out what the second scent was in regards to his red haired bond mate. The name Bones wasn't just for show. Their family magic had a lot to do with bones, and there was a large collection of bone and ivory artifacts at the Boneyard which Susan was in charge of polishing with a special paste on a regular basis.

"You still haven't told us what scared you," Susan pointed out after she released him and went back to sit beside Hermione. Harry groaned and rubbed a hand over his face, shivering as the memory of the voice resurfaced. The girls shivered as well and he eyed them for a moment before shaking his head and moving on.

"I was at my detention, Lockhart actually requested my assistance tonight so I had to do my detention with him."

Neville and the girls winced in sympathy. "What'd he have you doing?" Neville asked.

"Helping to answer his fan mail," Harry groaned and dropped into his usual chair, ignoring the way Daphne huffed and glared at him for how he was now sitting on and wrinkling his robes. "Please, Daphne, I'm too frazzled and exhausted to worry about my posture, or my clothes, or whatever else. I know I need to learn it, and I've been trying, you've seen me trying in class and such, just, for now can we please not make a big deal out of it?"

Hermione placed a hand on Daphne's knee, almost absently, and leaned forward to stare intently at Harry. "Harry, answering fan mail sounds tedious and awful, especially having to deal with that blowhard, but none of that brings us to what scared you."

He nodded and took a deep breath, sitting up a bit straighter and absently pulling his robes out from under him which he laid across the arm of the chair next to him. "Right," he said. "Well just before leaving I heard something. This weird voice, it was the coldest, most disturbing sounding voice I have ever heard. Kept saying 'come to me, let me rip you, let me tear you,' and other stuff like that."

His girls and Neville all wore similar expressions of shock and a bit of fear as he recounted the rest of his mad dash through the halls of the school after leaving Lockhart's office as he attempted to track the voice that he heard.

"I couldn't really tell where it was coming from," he finished. "I mean, I had a general direction that it seemed to be coming from but nothing more. I didn't see anyone, I didn't sense anyone nearby…" he trailed off and shrugged pushing down on the link as he considered the last memory he had of that terrifying voice, how it'd gotten louder so suddenly as if closing in for the kill and he couldn't stop another shudder from running through his frame.

The girls all shivered in unison as well and Hermione gave Harry a half hearted glare.

"Harry," she admonished him. "If you're going to insist on thinking about it could you perhaps dampen the link, just a tad? I know we don't like it when you cut us off but I don't much care for these sudden shivers and chills either. Maybe we could find some sort of… what? Why are you staring at me like that?"

As Hermione spoke Harry's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open until he was gawping at her in complete shock.

"What do you mean, 'dampen the link'?" he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

The girls exchanged a look while Neville simply observed. It was times like this that the young Longbottom heir almost felt as if he was intruding on something far beyond his understanding, but at the same time, that they were so comfortable openly discussing their bond around him had him feeling honored in the trust they had in him.

"Harry, we had a great deal of trouble last year over you pushing down on the bond, cutting us off from how you're feeling. We'd rather you didn't cut us off, we try not to cut you off, you know? I'm not certain I agree with Hermione actually encouraging you to push down on our bond but-"

"But I was!" Harry blurted out, cutting Daphne off.

Susan blinked and closed her eyes, searching for the link that Daphne had taught her to recognize consciously that connected her to her three bond mates. She could see it in her minds eye, pulsing lines that connected them. She imagined Harry as a simple orb of golden light, as with the aura of his soul that Neville told them about from their sorting and herself and the other girls were represented by their color. Silver for Hermione. A gentle green for Daphne, and a deep auburn for herself.

The line that connected her and the other girls to Harry were thicker than those that connected her to Daphne and Hermione directly.

"Daphne?" she asked without opening her eyes. "Do me a favor and dampen the link for me? Push down your emotions."

Daphne didn't answer but a moment later the line she saw inside her head that connected Daphne to her, Harry, and Hermione all became thinner, shrinking to nearly half it's previous diameter.

"Harry? Now you do it."

"I _am_ ," he insisted. "I have been since I was still in Lockhart's office."

"But we've still been feeling your emotions this whole time," Hermione told him.

They fell silent for a time as the four of them considered that information before Harry finally offered a hesitant suggestion. "Do you… do you think this might be the result of what I did after my birthday?" he asked, hesitant to be more detailed in front of Neville, something their friend easily picked up on.

"I think I'm going to head to bed," he said as he stood and picked up the book he had been reading while they waited for Harry to return from his detention.

"Neville, you don't have to go-"

"No, Harry," Neville cut him off. "Look. You four are very open about your bond around me, and I appreciate that, it shows me how much you trust me and how much our friendship means to you. But I don't need to know everything, and I know there's things in your past, Harry, that you're not comfortable with others knowing." He let out a short chuckle. "Hell, I'm sure there's things you're not even comfortable talking with _them_ about, yet," he added with a wave of one hand to indicate the three girls.

"You're not hurting my feelings. I'm positive you'll talk to me when and if you ever feel like it, but unless something comes up that requires me to know, I don't ever _need_ to know, to be your friend. Besides, it's past midnight, and I'm tired, so I'm fine just heading to bed. I'll see you all in the morning for training?" He looked at them expectantly and Harry nodded.

"Six o'clock, unless you want to join me for some physical training as well, in that case I get up at five."

Neville made a face at that and shook his head. "I'll consider it," he said. "But probably not tomorrow. I'd like a little more rest before I try to take on what you were describing." He gave them a wave and with a round of 'goodnights', turned and headed up the stairs to the dorm, leaving the four of them alone in the common room.

"When you forced the bond open further this summer," Daphne started. "We're thinking this is the result? Harry can't close it anymore?"

"Which isn't exactly a bad thing," Hermione added. "But it does raise more questions." She sighed and leaned forward. "We've never found anything really solid on Soul Bonds," she mused, thoughtfully. "I've looked, but we've had other concerns so it hasn't really been a huge focus. I think it's time we really try to find some more solid information on what's happening and what we can expect in the future. There have been some scattered reports of bonded couples exhibiting extra abilities, enhanced magical strength, even sharing thoughts and memories but it's all very muddled."

Harry nodded.

"I think we need to go see Madadam Pomfrey tomorrow, too," Daphne interjected causing the rest of them to turn their attention to her. "Last year she wanted to see us to do some scans and get a baseline for us and the bond itself. We never did make that appointment and it would probably be a good idea if we took care of that as soon as possible "

Harry, Hermione and Susan nodded as Harry stood and picked up his robes. "All right, first thing after breakfast tomorrow morning?" he asked and the girls nodded their agreement.

They all said goodnight and split at the stairs as Harry trudged up to the boys dorm while the girls headed for their own. He changed quickly in the dark into his sleep clothes with the sound of Ron's snores echoing in his ears before he climbed into bed, pulled the curtains closed and cast a silencing charm to block out the noise before he settled down to sleep.

Long into the night he stared up at the darkened canopy as his thoughts whirled around in his head. _I really hope I didn't damage our bond, somehow,_ he thought, just before exhaustion finally caught up with him and he slipped into the land of dreams, his sleep broken by the same visions of horror that had plagued him for nearly a year, now joined by a disembodied voice that he could never find as it hunted the girls that had come to mean more to him than anyone he'd ever known.


	22. Birthdays and Nightmares

**Auuthors Notes: Rotten Writer returning everyone. Apologies for the delayed update, I've just had some work issues and been trying to work some more on some of my publishable novels as well. Not making any money with this, obviously, but I have plenty of works in progress I could finish up and make a little extra money off of so I'm trying to balance my time.**

 **I'm doing NaNoWriMo this month. For those that don't know, it's a literary challenge where one tries to write 50,000 words for a new novel in the month of November. I'm going to do my best to not let that interfere with Soul Scars updates but I make no promises.**

 **So, in this chapter we have some interesting looks into some of the kids minds, we see new stuff regarding the bond itself, and I think my otherwise biggest piece of AU gets mentioned. Thus far everything else has existed in potterverse, minus the bond of course. But I do reference something that is completely an original twist of my own so I view it as the most truly AU part thus far.**

 **Anyway, nothing else major to report so moving on.**

 **Disclaimer: I still own no part of Harry Potter, only theboeiginal plot points belong to me.**

 **Here's Chapter 21 of Soul Scars. Enjoy.**

Soul Scars Part Two

Darkness Within

By,

Rtnwriter

Poppy Pomfrey calmly observed the four students that had invaded her domain immediately following breakfast on Sunday morning. Her calculating gaze slid from one nervous student to the next, pausing ever so slightly when her eyes landed on one Harry Potter.

The last time he had been in need of her professional services as a Healer, he had done the impossible, and created quite the troublesome and perplexing mystery by way of his miraculous resurrection from the dead. And it had caused her no end of headaches trying to find an explanation ever since.

"Well," she said after several minutes of silence, "was there something you needed, or did you simply miss the ambience of the Hospital Wing?" She gave them a small smile to show that she wasn't upset by their presence and Harry grinned ruefully and let out a small laugh.

"At least I'm not injured," he pointed out, to which she allowed herself to laugh as well.

"A record, for you, Harry," she acknowledged. "Two visits in as many days, both without injuries. I may have to mark the day on my calendar."

The girls all giggled for a moment at the wounded expression he showed before they noticeably relaxed and took charge of the visit.

"Madam Pomfrey," Daphne started. "I want to apologize to you for delaying this meeting."

The Mediwitch arched a questioning brow at that statement but said nothing and merely waited for Daphne to continue.

"Last year, when Harry's shoulder was injured, we agreed to return another time when we were all four healthy and uninjured," she paused for a moment to glare half heartedly at Harry who only grinned impudently in her direction before she continued, "so that you could take some scans of us in regards to the Soul Bond that we are a part of. We failed to keep that appointment."

"No apology is needed, Miss Greengrass," Poppy said after a moment. "But it is appreciated. I understand that things last year were a bit… unconventional, shall we say?" she said the last with a smirk turning her lips that had the four students smiling in response.

"That's one word to use," Harry muttered.

"Anyway," Susan said over Harry, "we were hoping that you might be available now to go ahead and take those scans you wanted?"

Madam Pomfrey turned and her eyes swept across the empty Hospital Wing for a moment before she returned her attention to the four of them with a small smirk twisting her lips. "I think I just might be able to fit you into my very busy schedule," she said, causing them to each crack a small smile before they obediently made their way over to the beds and sat as the Mediwitch directed them.

In a line sat Hermione, Harry, Susan, and then Daphne, just as they typically arranged themselves and they made themselves comfortable, sitting up with their backs against the railings at the head of each bed.

Poppy stood before them with her wand already in hand. "This won't hurt in the slightest, so just relax and after I complete my scans we'll have a short question and answer session so I can get some basic information down."

They nodded and sat quietly as her wand began to dance, flitting its way through a complicated looking pattern as she spoke a long incantation under her breath, her face set in a mask of concentration. It wasn't a minute later that she frowned and became suddenly quite still as she stared intently at Hermione.

"That's not the same," she muttered under her breath, causing them to exchange a series of nervous glances. Madam Pomfrey quickly moved on to Harry and performed the same spell. A minute later her frown cleared but she looked even more confused then ever as she moved to Susan and then Daphne's beds.

"Madam?" Hermione asked, hesitantly after the Mediwitch had completed the spell over Daphne and just stood there looking perplexed. "Is there something wrong?"

"Hmmm?" she asked, absently before she blinked suddenly and started out of her thoughts. "Oh, my," she said. "My apologies, I didn't mean to drift like that. No, Miss Granger, there isn't anything wrong, per se. At least I don't think so. But I do have a few questions now."

They nodded, the nervous tension coiling in their chests relaxing not one bit and waited as patiently as they could for Madam Pomfrey to gather her wits and thoughts.

"First, what effects have you experienced in regards to the Bond itself that you can tell me?"

"We can feel each others emotions and pain," Harry. "Of course they've had to put up with feeling my pain more than I've had to feel theirs. They're of course smarter than I am, and don't do stupid things to get themselves hurt," he added with a self deprecating shrug.

"How clear are these emotions and feelings? Is it as if you are experiencing them yourself, or is there some other quality to the sensation?"

"When Harry feels an emotion, we feel it too, but we can easily recognize that it isn't our emotion. I'm not sure if there's anything really specific about _how_ it feels that lets us recognize that it isn't our emotion. Course, after our sorting last year we had a little trouble isolating the other girls emotions," Susan offered. "It took us a little while to learn to recognize that it wasn't an emotion we were experiencing ourselves and a little longer after that to be able to tell which of the other two was actually experiencing it."

"In the case of pain, it's muted. It's there, but we don't feel it as sharply as if it was our own pain," Daphne took up the thread. "And we've also learned to manipulate the link, to an extent."

Poppy frowned at that. "I remember something about that. During that incident last year after the Quidditch match?" she asked and Harry nodded with a pained expression.

"Yes, that day I was upset and I closed the link completely. I couldn't feel them at all and they couldn't feel…" he trailed off as the Mediwitch grew pale.

"That was a very foolish and dangerous thing to do, Lord Potter," she admonished him, going back to a more formal address in her agitation. "You have no idea the kind of damage you might have done to the bond by doing something like that, separating pieces of your souls that way."

"I really didn't do it intentionally and I have no intention of doing it again, I swear, Madam Pomfrey," he assured her and she relaxed just slightly.

"So would that incident then explain the changes I see here?"

"Changes?" Daphne asked.

Susan spoke at nearly the same time, "what changes?"

Before she could open her mouth to answer Hermione cut in, "Madam? We have never actually seen what everyone else apparently has. Well…" she paused for a moment and corrected herself, "actually I saw Harry's soul when I was very young. The Headmaster cast a spell over me as a child that allowed my parents to see my soul and the piece of Harry's that I held. None of them have seen that," she said, indicating the others with her left hand.

Poppy nodded and gestured to Harry. "Harry, please come step over here for a moment would you, and face toward the girls?" she asked, pointing to a spot in front of Susan's bed and she then directed Hermione to move over and take a spot in the bed Harry had just vacated.

"This is what we saw on the night of the sorting, with a few adjustments, of course," she said as she waved her wand around Harry's head and muttered the incantation that Hermione could vaguely remember from that day years before.

After several moments of nothing the gentle golden aura poured from Harry's body and within a matter of seconds he stood in front of them surrounded by a beautiful nimbus of golden light. On his chest, just over his heart, three orbs of light rotated in a clockwise direction. One silver, one green, and one auburn.

"The gold is, of course, Harry's soul," Poppy explained. "The silver is Miss Granger's, the green is Miss Greengrass', and the auburn belongs to Miss Bones. This is how you each looked only adjusting the aura and the colors of the souls per each individual, do you understand?" she asked and they nodded, the girls in awe while Harry was looking down at himself, trying to get a clear image of what the girls were seeing.

Moments later the aura surrounding Harry disappeared. "Now, Miss Granger if you could take Harry's place here…"

They quickly changed places and Hermione stood next to Madam Pomfrey as she performed the same spell. When the silver glow surrounded her once again, Hermione looked down, expecting to see the three souls of her bond mates circling her chest as they'd seen with Harry.

Instead she saw only two fist sized orbs of light circling lazily around each other. One green and one auburn. There was no sign of Harry's soul and a jolt of terror shot through her as she turned a stricken gaze to Madam Pomfrey who only shook her head and motioned her to silence.

"There is nothing to be concerned about, I don't think, it's just going to take a few seconds longer to… ah, there it is."

When Harry didn't see his own soul, visible on Hermione's chest alongside Susan's and Daphne's, the terror he'd felt had been a wild, visceral thing, tugging at something deep inside. A primal sort of fear that was impossible to control, deny, or resist. He'd done it. He'd truly gone and destroyed the best thing in his life.

At Madam Pomfrey's words the relief he felt was almost palpable and then the gold began to shine through and his eyes widened comically as he stared at Hermione with unchecked shock on his face.

"What is _that_?" he blurted out.

There was a splash of gold, roughly the size of Harry's hand laid flat with the fingers splayed right over Hermione's heart, with the other two souls orbiting around it. From this mass of gold, lines, thin tendrils of curling golden energy branched out throughout the rest of her body extending down her arms and legs and even moving up her neck into her head.

With an awed expression on her face, Hermione lifted her hand up in front of her eyes, tuning it back and forth and wiggling her fingers, staring at the tiny, delicate veins of light beneath her skin.

"Obviously," Madam Pomfrey said as the light faded away, "something has changed since the night of your sorting. The veins of gold that move up into the head? They connect directly to the portion of the brain that processes and identifies emotions."

It took several minutes for the four of them to come to their senses enough to speak of what happened, but eventually the story tumbled out of them. Everything about the Dursley's house and Harry returning there to retrieve the chest his mother left, the fear and pain he experienced and finally how, in desperation, he'd pushed, forced the bond wider than it had ever been and how, now, Harry seemed unable to dampen the link the way he'd always been able to before.

By the time they finished, they were considerably calmer but there was still a tense undercurrent of nervous apprehension. Hermione had moved over to sit beside Harry while Madam Pomfrey cast the spell over Daphne and Susan in turn, showing the same golden veins running throughout their bodies.

"I can't honestly tell you that anything is wrong, or even that everything is perfectly fine, I'm sorry to say," Madam Pomfrey reluctantly admitted after their explanation. "For all we know this is how the bond is meant to progress, but as there are so few records and I've never seen a bonded pair before, much less a quartet…" she trailed off and shrugged. "All I can do right at the moment is ask if you feel as if there's anything wrong. You know your bond better than you think you do. If you feel something is wrong, we can attempt to see what we might do to fix it, but it would be a lot of trial and error without any further information.

"I want you all to come back here every week from now on, or at any time if you feel something is different or has changed with the bond itself come back here immediately and we'll take some more scans. Also… would I have your permission to ask around after any information? Or to discuss this with the Headmaster?"

While the girls were nodding Harry simply scowled at the mention of the Headmaster.

"I'd prefer if we didn't include the Headmaster," Harry said. "And anyone that you do consult, please, keep our names out of it."

The girls turned to look at Harry, wincing as a burning anger flooded them out of nowhere.

Poppy considered that for a moment before she nodded. "As this doesn't affect your education in any way it does fall under confidentiality, so the Headmaster doesn't need to know anything about it. I only thought his experience might be helpful."

"If we exhaust all other option we'll consider it," Harry stated, firmly. "But right now… I really want to keep him as far away from us as possible."

#####

Harry was frowning thoughtfully, his finger stroking the scar behind his jaw. "Where haven't we looked or asked about Soul Bonds?" he asked suddenly and looked up to find three blank stares directed at him.

After agreeing to return every Sunday morning after breakfast for more scans the four had left the Hospital Wing. Immediately after they found themselves in the hallway outside, the girls started peppering Harry with questions about this anger he had for the Headmaster, but he refused to answer, merely walking along silently until they arrived outside the Room of Requirement where he requested a room where they could sit comfortably and talk.

The room that was created reminded them of a miniature version of the Gryffindor Common room, specifically their corner of the room by the fire with replicas of the seating they typically took. The three girls were once again resting on the small sofa while Harry had eschewed the armchair in favor of pacing back and forth in front of the fire.

"I mean, we've looked through the Hogwarts Library, we've checked book stores and asked other witches and wizards about them but nobody seems to know anything. So where _haven't_ we looked. Even someplace that wouldn't make sense to look for information?"

"So you're just going to ignore us about the Headmaster?"

Harry sighed and turned to look at Hermione. "It isn't that I'm ignoring you… I just… we have enough to worry about right now, I don't want to focus on him and his…" He trailed off and his hands curled into fists at his sides. "I don't want to focus on him, right now, okay? Please, just let it drop."

Dropping it was obviously the last thing Hermione intended to do but she closed her mouth with an audible snap when Daphne placed a hand on her knee and gently shook her head. Hermione sat back, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared mutinously at Harry who had resumed his pacing.

"We haven't looked outside the country, really," Daphne pointed out.

"Do we know of anyone out of the country that we could ask?" Susan asked.

"No one specifically," admitted Daphne with a quiet sigh.

"What about the Department of Mysteries?"

"Same problem," Daphne said. "Do we know anyone in the Department of Mysteries, and would we really want to get them involved? The Unspeakables… who knows what they get up to down there."

Harry had a confused expression on his face at that point, watching the conversation between the girls as they discussed potential options. "What's the Department of Mysteries?" he asked, drawing their attention.

"Pretty much what it sounds like. It's a department within the Ministry of Magic that investigates and explores all kinds of things. No one really knows what they do or even who works there. The people in that department are called Unspeakables and they wear cloaks that completely cover them with charms that makes it so you can't recognize voices or even tell if you're talking to a man or a woman," Susan explained.

"If they don't know about our bond, we really don't want to bring it to their attention, there's no telling what they may or may not decide to do."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a worried look at that for a moment before Hermione spoke up, nervously, "right, that's a 'no' then. We don't want to talk to anyone in that department if it can be helped."

"What other options do we have?"

They all fell silent as they wracked their brains for any possible avenue yet left unexplored that they might actually be able to search.

"What about the Goblins?" Daphne asked, sitting up suddenly.

"Gringotts goblins?"

"No other kind of goblins, Harry," Susan said, her lower lip caught between her thumb and forefinger as she considered that option. "That's actually not a bad idea," she admitted.

"Why would bankers have any information on Soul Bonds?" Hermione asked and Susan and Daphne exchanged a quick look over her head where Susan gestured for Daphne to go ahead and explain.

"The goblins aren't just bankers," she pointed out. "Harry learned that much when he researched them, right?" she added, looking to the boy in question.

"Yeah. They're a race of warriors. Really, their moving into banking is just looked at as another battlefield as far as most goblins are concerned."

"Right. And as warriors, they have been involved in many battles over the centuries. And what's one rule of combat?"

She looked expectantly at Hermione who considered the question carefully for a moment before tentatively offering, "to the victor goes the spoils?"

"Exactly. They've collected untold amounts of riches, artifacts, and libraries of knowledge. Any place they ever conquered they stripped bare, even of furnishings and wall fixtures. It's all considered spoils of war in a goblins mind. I'd be willing to bet that they might have something in their collections about Soul Bonds."

"But why would they help us?" Hermione asked. "We've nothing to offer them, and it's been made very clear in History class that no goblin does anything for free."

Susan and Daphne turned an almost identical, predatory look in Harry's direction.

"Well, we do happen to have one of their oldest clients right here," Susan pointed out, staring at Harry intently. The combined looks from the two girls was actually starting to make him a little uncomfortable.

"I could send a letter to my accounts manager, Sharpshard," he offered. "See if he might know of anything…" he trailed off for a moment as a thought occurred to him. "Actually, that's not a bad idea, even if they don't have anything to offer. I could hire Gringotts to find information and have them send it to me. They do have services for that kind of thing, don't they?"

"Sounds like a plan," Susan said and quickly got to her feet. "No time like the present too, so we should get back to the tower and Harry can get to writing to Sharpsard."

"Plus, we do still have some homework to complete," Hermione pointed out and Harry groaned as they all rose and started for the door.

"You're not going to be getting overly tense about exams and such again this year, are you?" he asked Hermione, a lightly teasing note in his voice and she frowned at him.

"There's nothing wrong with being serious about your studies, Harry," she admonished him.

"I agree, but you get a little carried away at times."

As the door closed behind them they continued to bicker all the way to the tower while Daphne and Susan just observed in silent amusement.

#####

Hermione woke on the morning if the nineteenth to an unpleasant sensation. It took her several moments to work out exactly what that sensation was and what caused it. She was alone in her bed. Something that hadn't happened in some time.

She reflected on that, looking up at the canopy above her. Over the year since they'd all met she could easily see how important her three bond mates had become to her. She wasn't sure exactly how it happened, but she could hardly remember the last time she hadn't shared a bed with one or both of the other two girls. Outside of the summer holidays, of course, when she'd spent more evenings at home with her parents.

After the events of Halloween the year before, when Daphne had first come to her seeking comfort, they'd just started sharing a bed. She found the presence of the other girls comforting, and knew they drew a similar comfort from her and from each other.

Sitting up, she climbed out of bed and was startled to find both Susan's and Daphne's beds were empty. She frowned and used her want to cast a quick 'tempus' charm. It was just past seven in the morning and she let out a squeak and bolted for the showers, unaware that Lavender's and Parvati's beds were both empty as well.

Half an hour later, Hermione rushed down the stairs into the common room, hair dry and her uniform and robes as neat as she could manage with the dragon hide book bag Harry had bought her for Christmas slung over one shoulder.

Just as she hit the bottom steps she looked up into a sea of faces as the all cried out, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" at the top of their lungs.

Hermione was so startled she actually jumped up and back two steps on the stairs before she overbalanced and fell, landing on her bum on the next step up.

"What in the worl…" she managed to get out as what looked like every Gryffindor in their year started laughing and congratulating themselves.

Harry emerged from the crowd with Susan and Daphne behind him and came up the steps to help her to her feet before he surprisingly drew her into a hug.

"You didn't think we would forget your birthday, did you?" he whispered to her and she flushed brightly as his breath blew across her ear.

"Well… you didn't… nobody noticed last year and I didn't want to make a fuss about it. It's no big deal, really…"

"That's only because we didn't know what your birthday was, last year," Daphne said as she pushed Harry aside and drew Hermione into a hug of her own. "We got the information from your mom so we could throw you a little party."

Hermione was beaming, a huge smile that split her lips and showed plenty of white teeth and she couldn't have stopped it if she'd wanted to. A strange mixture of sad and happy emotions bubbled up inside her and tears prickled at her eyes.

"We're having breakfast up here today, and you've got presents to open," Susan told her as she gave the birthday girl another hug.

"You guys really didn't have to do this, and I don't need a party-"

"We didn't do much," Daphne admitted as she cut Hermione off. "This was all Harry's doing."

Harry suddenly found himself under an intense scrutiny as Hermione turned her cinnamon colored eyes to him and he nervously shuffled his feet. "Well, with you all planning a party for Neville and me over the summer… I've never had a birthday party before. Never gotten birthday presents, really. It reminded me that I didn't even know when any of your or our friends birthdays were. I'm sorry we didn't do anything for you last year."

Hermione dragged him into another hug, wrapped her arms tightly around him for a few moments in wordless thanks.

"Come on!" Lavender shouted, breaking up the moment. You've got presents to open birthday girl!" She bounded up the few steps and dragged Hermione away, almost pulling the other girl off her feet as her bond mates laughed quietly and followed behind at a more sedate pace.

Hermione found herself seated at the head of a motley collection of the various tables strewn about the common room that had all been haphazardly pushed together to make enough space for the entire year group. A massive chocolate cake (shaped and decorated to look like an open copy of Hogwarts: A History) was sliced up and handed out as the first gifts were placed in front of the overwhelmed girl.

The morning passed quickly for the second year Gryffindors. As it was a Saturday, there weren't any classes to rush off to and the students needed little encouragement to make the best of any excuse to have a party. By the combined efforts of Harry, Susan, Daphne, and Neville, they even managed to convince Hermione to take the day off and relax from their school work.

Just before lunch, the party broke up and Hermione took her gifts upstairs to put them away in her trunk. Never a particularly materialistic individual, she was still quite pleased with the gifts she had received, more the fact that she found herself with friends willing to give her anything at all.

As she placed each item away she noted and catalogued them for future reference, and to make sure she remembered to write each person a thank you note. She had received several advanced texts for Transfiguration, Charms, and Herbology, as well as a warm red, knit cap and scarf that she was sure would be wonderful when the cooler weather set in. There were several packages of sweets from various students in their year, including Lavender and Parvati, and she reminded herself again to take some time to get to know her other dorm mates better this year. Harry got her another charm for the bracelet she'd received the previous Christmas while Susan gave her a new set of high quality, self-inking quills and inks. It was the gift from Daphne, though, that she felt had to be her absolute favorite.

With the rest of her gifts put away, she set the silver picture frame on her bedside table and simply stared at it for several moments. It held a hand drawn image, showing a scene from their summer break. At the Boneyard, there was a large oak tree where the four of them would sit in the shade and do their summer work, talk, or sometimes just relax quietly, saying little, if anything, at all. In the image, all four of them were lying on their backs on the grass beneath the tree with their heads pointing toward each other so their feet pointed in four different directions. Like the night of their sorting, she was to Harry's right where he lay in the bottom most portion of the picture with Susan to his left and Daphne behind him. It was beautifully colored to such a degree that she could clearly make out each figure's eye color. The four of them looked so happy and peaceful that she couldn't help but smile.

When she finally rushed back down the stairs she found her bond mates waiting for her at the bottom of the steps and slammed into Harry without even slowing down, staggering him back a step as she wrapped her arms around him for a moment before she blindly reached out and pulled Daphne and Susan into the hug as well.

"Thank you," she whispered.

They didn't say anything, but she could feel that they understood just what the party had meant to her and in that moment she felt closer to the three of them then ever before. They stood for several minutes before breaking apart and making their way out of the common room where Neville met them in the hall and the five of them traversed the corridors and made their way down the stairs for lunch.

The rest of the day was spent reading, playing games, and talking quietly in the Room of Requirement. Blaise, Tracey, and Hannah joined them along with the Weasley twins. Ron had become embroiled in an epic chess match, however, and begged off, devoting his focus to the battle at hand. By the time they all made their way to their own common rooms and beds, Hermione Granger felt that it had been one of the best birthdays of her life.

#####

Harry was running. Feet pounding hard on the stone floor, legs pumping like pistons as his robes billowed out behind him. Somewhere in the distance he could just make out a voice. A sibilant, horrific, terrible voice that froze his blood in his veins.

" _Rip and tear, crush and bleed, please, oh please, come to me,"_ the voice sang. _"Who first? The red head? The blond? No… the little bookworm…"_

"NO!" he bellowed. "Leave them alone!"

He crashed through a heavy wooden door at the end of a long hall and out into open space. Down he fell through the darkness, wind whistling past his ears until he found himself standing in a large barren chamber, empty save for a tall mirror with an intricate gold frame.

His feat carried him until he stood in front of the mirror and his reflection stared back at him. Not the reflection of what he was now, but what he had been. Stripped to the waist, his many scars stood out in sharp view against an emaciated frame and he violently shook his head.

 _That's not me anymore,_ he thought.

The image blurred and twisted and his reflection grew, becoming the image he remembered from that night. Him, older and healthy. One at a time his girls came into the frame and drew the older reflection of him into a passionate kiss. First Hermione, then Susan, then Daphne. The four of them stood, smiling at him for a moment before the reflection of him suddenly looked concerned, his face twisting into an odd expression.

A moment later Daphne fell to the ground, her clothing tattered and torn as a pool of blood slowly spread beneath her. Something reached down from the top of the frame and Susan was ripped from his reflections arms, up into the air. Behind the image of him and Hermione, deep red eyes glowed in the darkness and every so slowly, a pale white face came into view. It loomed, impossibly large, until it suddenly darted forward and razor sharp teeth snapped down on Hermione's body before either of them could react.

In a matter of seconds, Harry was standing alone in the mirror, warm blood splashed across his face and clothes as he found himself helpless, unable to do anything to protect them.

"Harry… Potter…"

Harry spun around, away from the mirror and had just enough time to see those hateful red orbs gleaming at him before some force suddenly hurled him backwards. He slammed into the mirror, the glass shattering as he was flung through it as if he were nothing but a rag doll.

A high pitched, keening wail, pierced his ears and darkness rushed in around him.

#####

"Hermione! Wake up!"

Hermione shot up in the bed to find Daphne and Susan on either side of her. She looked about wildly, her head spinning back and forth, eyes wide but barely seeing in the dark behind her bed's drawn curtains. A hand touched her arm and she jerked away, instinctively flailing at the contact until hands grabbed both her arms and held her.

"Hermione, calm down, it's us. It's Daphne and Susan."

The voice finally managed to cut through the terror and she stopped struggling, as a voice whispered 'lumos' and the tip of a wand began to glow, gently. Susan was watching her with a fear filled expression on her face, her wand held loosely in one hand.

"We're here," she said, pulling her bond mate into her arms. "You were having a nightmare, we couldn't wake you up."

Hermione finally became aware that she was panting, her breath burning in her throat, and her entire was body was trembling uncontrollably as the remnants of her terror slowly began to ebb, but failed to actually recede entirely.

"You were screaming and thrashing about," Daphne whispered from behind her and she felt the blond move close, wrapping her arms around both girls with Hermione sandwiched in the middle as the damn broke and she sobbed into Susan's shoulder.

Hermione was no stranger to tears. What child didn't go through life shedding a tear now and then? But this went beyond tears. This was a soul crushing, gasping sob. She gulped in deep breaths of air only to expel them as she wailed, her voice muffled against Susan.

Susan and Daphne shared a look over Hermione's head. A silent gaze that clearly conveyed confusion, and anxious uncertainty. What could have scared her so badly? Neither girl had the slightest clue how to comfort their friend so they simply held her, trying to push soothing emotions across the bond to the distraught girl in their arms when she suddenly jerked as if she'd been struck a physical blow and she sat up sharply.

"Oh my gods," she whispered, so quietly they almost didn't hear her. Susan let out a startled squawk when she suddenly found herself being shoved to the side as Hermione scrambled unsteadily from the bed and dashed from the dorm with Daphne and Susan following on her heels as quickly as they could.

Hermione shot out into the hall, bare feet padding heedlessly across the cold stone of the halls until she reached the carpet covered stairs and dashed down at a reckless pace. Susan and Daphne reached the bottom of the steps just in time to see Hermione fling herself into Harry's arms, babbling incoherently as her arms wrapped tightly around him.

"Hermione?" he asked, sounding both relieved and surprised at once. Or maybe it was just because they could feel both of those emotions so strongly through the bond that they thought they could hear both emotions in his tone simultaneously? Susan, shook the thought aside and stepped closer as Harry looked over Hermione at them, his eyes wide and concerned.

"She was having a nightmare," Susan tried to explain. "We couldn't wake her up for probably five minutes when she suddenly shot up like she'd been hit with a stinging hex and hasn't actually said anything coherent since."

"… aw," Hermione whispered, her face buried into Harry's chest.

Harry pulled back, as best he could with the girls in his arms refusing to loosen the death grip she had on him. "What was that?"

"I saw," she said, louder, but still muffled. "I saw it, Harry. I heard it all. The voice in the hall and the chamber and the mirror and…" she trailed off as a violent shudder ran through her body.

Daphne and Susan frowned, both confused, but Harry paled, all the blood draining from his face and a tremor ran through him anf the other girls as well in response to the strong emotions rushing through Hermione.

It took a few minutes, but the three of them finally managed to coerce her over to the sofa where Harry sat, letting Hermione cling to him while Susan sat on his other side and Daphne took the chair Harry usually commandeered for himself.

"Harry? Why were you down here?" Daphne asked after they were all settled. "It's after two in the morning."

"I've still been having nightmares," he admitted. "They were worse at the beginning of summer but after my birthday they've settled down, some, at least. They're not every night like they were last year."

"Do you usually come down here? You've never mentioned before."

He shook his head, shifting to a more comfortable position so that Hermione was leaning against his upper shoulder with his right arm wrapped around her. "No, normally I just lay in bed and try to go back to sleep." He shrugged his free shoulder. "Sometimes I'm successful, other times, not so much."

"So what made you come down tonight?"

He blinked, looking surprised by the question.

"Hermione," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Susan frowned and rubbed a hand across her face. "This all just get's more and more complicated," she muttered. "You felt her fear too?"

He nodded. "And it worried me. I know none of you have ever woken up because I was terrified by a nightmare. That's always been a pretty constant thing, right? If one of us is asleep the others emotions don't really bleed through as strongly. At least not enough for us to be consciously aware of them."

"It might have been because two of us were scared at the same time," Hermione murmured. The lingering terror had finally faded a bit, leaving her feeling spent and exhausted but occasionally images from the nightmare would rise, unbidden in her mind and she couldn't suppress a shudder that was echoed by the others.

"And how did that happen?" Harry asked. "You… you actually saw it?"

"Every moment," she confirmed and sat up a moment after to level a stern glare at him from only a few inches away. "Don't even think about it," she snapped.

"Think what?" he cautiously asked, surprised by the sudden emotional shift she underwent.

"We know you, Harry Potter. We're not going to go ten rounds of you feeling guilty for me sharing your nightmare. We're not going to deal with you blaming yourself."

"But it's my faul-"

He cut off when she suddenly placed her hand over his mouth, stopping him from going any further while she gathered her thoughts.

"Best guess, this all has something to do with the changes in our bond. Yes, changes that you created when you pushed it open this summer. But other than when it happened we've never gotten any images from you, so it's likely that something else has changed. I very much doubt you're singly responsible for us sharing your nightmare."

Harry reached up with his free hand and pulled her hand away from his mouth as one part of her commentary stuck out at him. "Images?" he asked, a blank look on his face which caused all three girls to blink in surprise.

"We never mentioned?" Susan blurted out and Harry turned to her, shaking his head.

"No, that's not ringing any bells."

"When you were at… that house," Daphne hissed, her eyes narrowing in anger and Harry leaned away from her for a moment before he realized the anger wasn't directed at him. "When you pushed the bond open, we… well first of all we got a horrific headache since you'd hand the bond suppressed before that, so it was a little bit of a shock, and don't apologize," she added the last with a hand raised in a stopping gesture in his direction. "It's in the past and doesn't matter anymore now. What is important is that we got… flashes? Impressions? It's a little hard to describe actually."

"I saw images along with what you were feeling at the time," Susan offered. "We all did, but I think we each saw slightly different things overall. Basically a few images, lightning quick, and seen through your eyes."

Harry considered that for a few seconds before asking the first question that popped into his head. "How could you tell whatever it was, was what I was seeing?"

"You didn't have your glasses on, Harry," Hermione reminded him. "It was so blurry, I really don't know how you managed to function day to day."

"Well I _did_ have glasses," he pointed out.

"Which were always a liability," Daphne cut in. "I'm glad you got rid of them, in a duel or something, they were a weakness that you really couldn't afford to have." She glanced at the clock that hung over the fireplace and sighed. "It's almost three in the morning," she pointed out. "I think we should forgo training tomorrow morning and try to get some more rest. We have our appointment with Madam Pomfrey after breakfast and we can bring this up to her then. In the meantime, we're not going to figure anything out on our own right now."

"You sent out the letter to your Account Manager, right Harry?" Susan asked, standing and turning to face him and Hermione.

He nodded. "Yes, I sent it out the same day we discussed contacting them but I haven't received a response, yet."

She sighed, but nodded in a resigned manner, knowing there was little they could do but wait.

"Well I think we should get back to bed," she said and started toward the stairs but paused before she reached them when she heard Daphne's voice behind her.

"Hermione?" Daphne asked and Susan turned to see Harry still sitting on the sofa with Hermione doing her best impression of a limpet against his chest. "Are you coming up?" Daphne held out one hand toward the pair and waited, expectantly.

Hermione shook her head and buried her face against his chest. "I'd really rather just sit here for a little while," she mumbled. Unspoken was the understanding that she meant she wanted to stay with Harry. "Unless you wanted to go back to bed? I don't want to bother you," she added the last almost in a whisper that Susan was just barely able to hear.

Harry shook his head after a moments thought. "I'm still a little shaky," he admitted. "I don't mind staying here for a while."

"Did you want us to stay?" Susan asked and Harry shook his head.

"You're welcome if you want to, but don't let us keep you if you'd rather go back to bed." He gave them a weak smile. "No reason for all of us to lose more sleep."

Daphne and Susan thought it over for a few moments before Daphne stepped closer to the couch, leaned down and briefly hugged Harry and Hermione before she straightened and headed over to Susan. Hooking her arm through the redheads, she guided the other girl up the steps and called back a quiet 'goodnight', just before the two of them stepped out of sight to the two still on the sofa.

Hermione let Harry lead her as he shifted them about. Moving her toward the center of the sofa he sat in the corner using the arm and back of the piece of furniture to lean against, stretched his legs out so his feet were resting on a pillow on the short table in front of them, and then drew her back so she was leaning against his left shoulder. Once they were settled a comfortable silence descended over them, broken only by the snapping and popping of the logs in the fireplace as they each became lost for a time in their own thoughts.

Hermione was torn, her thoughts vacillating wildly from one desire to another. She had literally spent years developing and cultivating a mindset were she needed to be strong, she needed to be smart and capable, because one day she knew she would find her soul mate and he would need her help. Once she did finally find him, she found the experience to be almost nothing like she had expected it to be.

At first, when she sat with him on the train, it was almost exactly as she'd imagined. He was quiet, timid, and shy. It had taken time just to get him to engage in a steady conversation. With each new person that came into the compartment, he retreated a bit and had to be drawn back out.

Then Malfoy came in, flinging insults and they saw and entirely different side to Harry Potter. He had a hidden strength that she had not expected and was quick to defend others with all the tenacity of a bull dog. That fierce determination impressed her, even more than his quick wit and love of learning that appeared second only to her own and over the course of the previous year, helped along by many a late night discussion with Daphne and Susan, she found herself wanting to be strong for a different reason. No longer did she need strength to help and protect him, now, she needed to be strong just to be able to stand beside him.

That desire warred with the gibbering terror that still lingered at the back of her mind. She had wanted to go up to bed with the other girls, but as soon as she'd thought it, she was paralyzed by a mind numbing fear and couldn't tear herself away from her comfortable position on the sofa with Harry. Despite not being able to justify it to herself, she had no desire to move any time soon.

Harry wasn't sure what to do. Instinctively, he wanted to apologize again for dragging Hermione into one of his nightmares, especially that evenings, it had been magnitudes worse than most of his other nightmares. The inclusion of that horrific voice from the night of his detention with Lockhart was new, and it was worse in his mind than it had actually been that night.

He was trying not to automatically take the blame for everything anymore, though. That had been a heavily featured topic in his last few sessions with Healer Gant Logically, he understood, that at best he could only be partially responsible. If her sharing his dream had been because of his actions with their bond, then it didn't make sense that it had taken over a month and a half for it to happen, and for it to only affect Hermione and not Daphne or Susan as well.

Added to that cognitive struggle was the still lingering remnants of displeasure over any physical contact. He'd gotten much better about it in regards to those close to him, mostly just the girls, Neville, and Amelia, but with others he was just as bad as ever. He was the best with the girls if still holding a lingering tension in his body. In the end he found himself more and more often occupying a space in between wanting that comforting contact and still harboring a deep fear and a lack of trust when it came to people touching him.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to force his muscles to relax as Hermione pressed herself against his side and tried to find a way to distract himself.

"You really saw my nightmare," he muttered quietly, hoping that engaging in a conversation might take his mind off the feeling of her body pressed against him.

Hermione nodded, a slight tremor running though her as she thought of it. "Everything," she whispered.

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't you dare apologize," she cut him off, lifting her head to look at him. "It's not your fault I got pulled into it, somehow."

"I know," he said and she gave him a questioning look. "Really," he insisted. "I am starting to figure it out, ya know. I meant that I was sorry you had to see it at all. Not something I'd wish on most people, especially not someone I actually like and care about." He shrugged his free shoulder helplessly and Hermione studied his face for a long moment before she nodded and laid her head back on his shoulder.

"It was horrible," she admitted. "I'm still freaked out about it, but, in a strange way I think I feel closer to you now for having seen it."

He blinked, surprised, and looked down at her even though all he could see was the top of her tangled mass of curls.

"How so?" he asked.

She thought for a moment as they both stared into the fire and a little more tension eased from both their bodies. Time was doing wonders to distance Hermione, emotionally, from the nightmare, allowing her to consider the entire situation more rationally and she was reminded of another conversation they'd had the previous year.

"Remember last year when Amelia wrote you and let you know that Madam Pomfrey had contacted her office about your scars?"

"Vividly," he answered in a deadpan drawled and she giggled quietly for a second.

"Well, if you'll remember, Susan, Daphne, and me said that on the one hand we want to know what happened to you in that place. And not out of some morbid curiosity, or to pity you or something," she added when he opened his mouth to interject and his jaw snapped closed with a clack as she continued talking. "We want to know, because we want to understand you better. We want you to be able to share that burden with us, because we care about you.

"But remember, we said that, even though we do _want_ to know, we're also scared to learn all about it at the same time. It's the same with these nightmares. You've just been suffering alone with them, you won't even talk to us about them. So, as scary as it was, I'm glad I saw it."

"You shouldn't have had to," he insisted with a frustrated sigh.

"Maybe, maybe not," she said. "Just because you want to protect us from these things, doesn't mean you'll always be able to, or that we won't fight you protecting us so we can protect you at the same time. I thought we agreed to worry about each other," she reminded him as she fell into the familiar mindset of reminding Harry that he wasn't alone against the world anymore. "I'm not saying it was fun, or that I'd like it to be a regular occurrence, but in a way I do feel better now that I know what it is exactly that you go through at night."

Harry nodded but said nothing, thinking over what she'd told him instead. If he was being completely honest with himself, he had to admit to feeling a little bit better that someone else knew. In a quick flash of insight, he compared the feeling to when he and Daphne talked late one night just after the Christmas break last year. They hadn't gone into specifics, but they'd both unloaded some difficult information and in the end he had felt better for talking to her.

Harry shook his head and chuckled quietly, which caused her to look up at him again in question.

"Just a thought," he explained. "I don't like that you saw it, I don't like it because it feels like I hurt you since it was in my head, but I do feel better now that someone else knows. I think I'm finally starting to understand why Healer Gant keeps encouraging me to talk to you girls, to let you in more on those things that I'd rather forget but are always there, in the back of my mind."

"Well, will wonders never cease," she said in a teasing tone and laughed when he stuck his tongue out at her. She turned her head and shifted closer to him, laying her head on his chest instead of his shoulder. The steady thump of his heartbeat against her ear had a soothing effect on her and she sighed softly. "I'm glad you're beginning to understand, Harry," she whispered. "We won't push you, if we can help it, but we'll always listen."

They fell silent again for a time before Hermione thought of a question. Something she dearly wanted to ask, but hesitated to bring up, especially in light of the promise she'd just made.

Harry, for his part, could feel his constant lack of regular sleep catching up to him, and his eyelids felt increasingly heavy. He'd been managing just enough that he didn't need the glamours he'd been using during the summer but it was a near thing.

"Harry?"

His eyes opened, and for a moment he wondered when they'd fallen closed. "Hmmm?" he hummed wordlessly.

"Can I ask one thing? About the nightmare?"

"Hmm.."

"About… about the mirror," she said and was sure she was blushing as she remembered the images of herself and the other girls, each kissing an image of an older looking Harry in the mirror. "Dumbledore said it shows a persons hearts desire when he explained it after the Stone… what I saw… was that just part of the nightmare, or is that what you actually saw that night?"

She felt inordinately pleased with herself that she'd managed to ask the question without stuttering and waited with baited breath, listening to his heart beat and his ready, even breathing.

After a minute passed with no answer she lifted her head and looked at him to find that he'd fallen asleep and for a few seconds she felt a pang of irritation in her chest, but then she noticed something. Even with how much better he'd gotten recently, he was still tense when they hugged him but right then, in that moment, he was completely relaxed. Even in an unconscious state in the hospital wing, she'd noticed a constant tension about him, a stiffness in his shoulders and his face. But now, he looked peaceful, truly calm and relaxed for the first time since she'd known him.

His body was loose, one arm curled protectively around her middle, his face slack, lips parted ever so slightly in his slumber. His hair was in its usual state of disarray that seemed to actively mock any and all attempts to tame it and before she realized what she was doing, she'd lifted her hand off of his chest and was running her fingers through the silky black strands.

He suddenly breathed in deeply and she froze, but he simply unconsciously leaned his head toward her hand and let out a contented sounding sigh.

"Damn," she muttered as she took her hand back and placed it back on his chest. "We are _really_ going to be in trouble when we're older," she added, echoing her thoughts after Harry first came up to them at the Leaky Cauldron with his glasses and they were able to clearly see his eyes.

She laid her head back down and let out another sigh of her own. She considered waking him up and sending him off to bed, but she was loathe to disturb the rest he so obviously needed.

 _I should go up to bed,_ she thought, just before her own eyes slid closed and she drifted off to sleep. Later, Harry would remember it as the most restful nights sleep he could remember having in nearly a year.

#####

"… -ould we do something?"

"Like what?"

"Wake them up?"

"Why bother, they're so cute!"

"Sssshhhhh. Keep it down if you're trying not to wake them."

"Sorry."

"How'd they end up down here, anyway?"

"How should I know, you know Harry moves like a damn ghost around this school. Hell, at least the ghosts glow in the dark, they're easier to spot than he is if he doesn't want to be."

Harry slowly opened his eyes, feeling warm, safe, and content. It took an indeterminate amount of time for him to process what he was looking at, but eventually his brain started to wake up and the information began to percolate through his cognitive processes.

Item one: There was a warm, comforting weight pressed against his chest and his left arm seemed to have fallen asleep.

Item two: There was a strange brown haze in front of his eyes that slowly resolved into individual strands of hair as his eyes focused.

Item three: Through the strands of brown hair (the shade seemed familiar but he couldn't quite place it, yet) he could see Susan, Daphne, Neville, and the Weasley Twins standing in front of him, staring intently at him as they talked amongst themselves.

Item four: He was apparently on the sofa near the fire in the Gryffindor common room.

Item five: Question, where was Hermione?

As the question occurred to him the color of the strands of hair in front of his face snapped into place in his understanding and he lifted his right hand to brush the hair away and looked down.

Hermione was still sound asleep, comfortably using his chest as her personal pillow as she laid, draped half across him, both arms wrapped tightly around him with her legs curled up next to her on the sofa. The faint scent of vanilla and parchment filled his nose and he just barely stopped himself from taking a deep breath of the mingled aromas, instead turning his attention back to their audience.

"We fell asleep?" he asked, quietly so as not to disturb the girl on his chest.

Daphne and Susan nodded small smiles curving both their lips, their eyes looking unnaturally bright in the morning sunlight.

"Look's like it," Daphne said in an equally low tone.

Harry's eyes flicked to Neville who simply offered a small smile and a nod before he moved onto the twins and almost flinched at the identical looks of maniacal glee on their faces.

"If either one of you," he said, still speaking quietly but now with a touch of steel in his voice that sent shivers up the twins spines, "do or say anything to embarrass Hermione, I will spend the rest of my life finding new and inventive ways to torture you both that any Healer in the world would find anatomically impossible to replicate."

Both Weasley's paled and nodded rapidly in perfect counterpoint, when one was tilting his head up the other was tilting his head down. It was a dizzying performance and Harry idly wondered if they practiced that to be able to do it so well.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Harry," Twin one muttered quickly.

"Never even entered out minds," Twin two agreed.

A moment later they scrambled away leaving Neville and the girls laughing quietly at the stark terror written on their freckled faces.

"I think their hair actually stood on end right there, Mate," Neville said, still chuckling a minute later once they'd mostly managed to get themselves under control.

"Well, maybe they'll think twice in the future before they decide to mess with us," Harry said, completely unapologetic and, in fact, feeling a bit smug over the success of his threat.

Despite trying to keep his voice down, Hermione's position on his chest meant that every word he spoke reverberated louder against her ear and finally succeeded in waking her. Her eyes fluttered open and she slowly lifted her head, looking around for a moment before her face slowly turned a brilliant red as she took in her position atop Harry, and the audience they had.

"Morning, Sunshine," Susan said, a bright grin on her face. "Sleep well?"

For the briefest of moments Hermione thought to try to stammer out some kind of excuse. Eventually, though, she simply sat up, freeing Harry's arm which had been trapped under her and gave the girls a small nod and a smile. "Yes, actually," she said. "I don't think I've ever slept so well before in my life."

Harry flushed brightly, but couldn't disagree with her and the girls gave Hermione a considering look before suddenly grabbing her by each hand and dragging her off and up the stairs.

Harry blinked, confused and looked at Neville who found himself alone with harry. "What just happened?" Harry asked and Neville barked out a laugh.

"You're asking me?" he asked. "Like I understand girls any better than the next guy. You're bonded to them, shouldn't you know what's going on?"

"They're girls, Nev. Men are never meant to understand girls."

"Then why bother to try?"

"I'm hoping that I have an advantage with those three in trying to understand them."

"How's that working out for you?"

Harry considered that as he stood and stretched, feeling joints pop satisfyingly before his arms fell back to his sides and he started for the stairs with Neville beside him.

"Not so good, honestly," he admitted.

"You have a stunning skill for understatement."

Harry laughed as they headed for the dorm so Harry could shower and change for the day. As the spray of near scalding hot water pounded down on him Harry smiled as Hermione's emotions flooded through him. A mixture of calm joy and embarrassment. Harry assumed Susan and Daphne were grilling her but even that couldn't dampen how good she felt.

By the time he finished his shower and dressed in a casual set of muggle clothes he and Neville hit the common room again just in time to find the girls coming down the stairs from their dorm. Hermione's cheeks were pink while Susan and Daphne were giving him a look that he couldn't quite identify.

As it was just about eight in the morning, Harry found himself thankful that so many people chose to sleep in on Sundays. Neville said he was reasonably certain that no one else had seen the two of them sleeping together on the couch. He really didn't want to consider what kind of rumors that might have started, especially if Lavender or Parvati had seen them.

"Wait," Neville said as they took their places at the table. "So Hermione actually saw your nightmare, as if she was experiencing it herself?" he asked and Harry nodded from his usual spot in between Susan and Hermione.

"We're not sure why or how but we'll figure it out," he said and without thinking reached out and took Hermione's hand in his as he felt a glimmer of fear from her. He continued eating with his left hand, carefully making sure he didn't hit Susan with his elbow while he kept up a running conversation with Neville. All the while, Hermione sat there, staring at her hand, held carefully in Harrys on the table between their plates. He didn't even seem to be aware of what he was doing and she smiled, deciding that she wasn't going to be the one to bring it to his attention as she slowly started eating her breakfast.

#####

Poppy Pomfrey calmly observed the four students that had invaded her domain immediately following breakfast on Sunday morning. It was only two weeks since they'd come into the Hospital Wing looking to have her conduct the scans she'd wanted to do the previous year, but already she felt as if something had changed.

"I'm feeling a distinct sense of deja vu coming on," she muttered and gestured for the four students to take a bed without another word. She arched a brow, but said nothing when Susan and Daphne each took a bed, leaving Harry and Hermione to both sit on another bed in between the other two, one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders.

"So, am I to take it by your behavior that something has changed in the last two weeks?"

"Last night," Harry started, "I had a nightmare."

She blinked questioningly, but sensed they were concerned about more than a simple bad dream so kept her peace and waited.

"I had the same nightmare," Hermione said. "Or saw the nightmare, in his head, I'm not honestly sure which, but either way I saw the same thing that he saw."

"When Harry's had nightmares before, it hasn't woken us up," Daphne jumped in and Susan nodded.

"He's woken up, terrified, but when we're asleep we don't notice it. But when they were both terrified last night, it woke Daphne and I up. Hermione was screaming and thrashing around in bed and for a while we couldn't wake her up." Susan shivered for a moment. "It was really scary, seeing her like that."

"And how did you become aware that she was having a nightmare?" Poppy asked. "Did you hear her or did just the terror wake you?"

The girls suddenly all looked nervous and Harry got a confused expression on his face. He couldn't name the feelings rolling off of them but it was a similar set of emotions from each girl.

"We were next to her," Daphne admitted. "We've shared a bed more often than not since Halloween last year."

"After the troll… Daphne was a little freaked out, and we weren't much better, honestly," Susan admitted. "It was… comforting, having them nearby. Just kind of continued after."

Madam Pomfrey considered all the information and asked a few more questions, dragging out that they'd received images from Harry before, something they'd forgotten to mention at their first meeting. Finally, after about twenty more minutes of discussion she stood back and gestured for Harry to join her in front of the girls and started waving her wand around his head.

The golden aura appeared, as always, and the orbs of light that showed Susan and Daphne's souls, but Hermione's took longer to appear and when it finally did Harry wasn't sure what to think.

Like with his soul in the girls, the silver of Hermione's soul was a splash of color directly over his heart and the same thin tendrils, veins of silver light spread outward from that point and through his body. The girls could easily see the spread wasn't as far as with his soul. Where his had extended through their arms and legs all the way to the tips of their fingers, Hermione's soul was growing mostly through Harry's torso and up his neck into his head.

"Well," Madam Pomfrey said when the lights faded and Harry made his way back to sit beside Hermione again. "Miss Bones, let's take a look at you, now, dear," she said, gesturing for the redhead to come forward.

The display was even more incredible in Susan, with both Harry's and Hermione's souls sprouting from a mass of gold and silver energy in her chest. A single orb of green energy orbited lazily around her heart while gold and silver veins spread outward, twisting and twining around each other in a dizzying display.

Madam Pomfrey sent Susan back to her bed, then cast the spell over Daphne and Hermione in turn. Hermione looked no different from the week before, with Daphne's and Susan's souls circling around her heart and Harry's spreading throughout her body.

Once all four students were back in their beds, or Hermione sitting back with Harry, Madam Pomfrey thought for a long moment before she waved her wand and a chair appeared in front of her which she slowly sank into.

"I have a few more questions, if I may?" she asked, her entire demeanor shifting. In all her dealing's with the four fascinating students before her, she'd been professional, if slightly more familiar in more recent days. Now, she spoke to them with a curious note in her voice that grabbed their attention.

"Harry, have you noticed any changes in how you have been reacting to the girls recently?"

He cocked his head to the side, regarding her curiously. "I'm not really sure what you mean?" he admitted.

She nodded. "I expected as much, honestly. You don't react to the girls the same way that you react to other people, do you?"

He shook his head.

"No, of course you don't. You care for them, you're close to them. That's not the same for everyone else. But after the incident when you pushed the bond open, did you notice anything different in _how_ you react or respond to them?"

Harry thought, his brow furrowed as he tried to consider every moment with the girls over the last month and a half and he wasn't sure that anything was really different except for their discovering that he couldn't block his emotions from them anymore. He noticed movement in the corner of his eye and turned his head, just slightly, to see his hand at shoulder level in front of him and blinked in surprise at it.

He didn't remember raising his hand.

Then he realized that he hadn't. Hermione was lifting his hand, his hand that was tightly clutching hers.

"This is different," she pointed out. "You… you touch us, more often," she said and he cocked his head at her. "You didn't initiate a hug until after we were told about the Room. That was in February. About six months for you to hug us instead of us hugging you. But lately, you've been grabbing our hands, or touching us on the shoulder a lot more often and… I'm honestly not sure you are even aware you're doing it a lot of the time."

"Like at breakfast?" Susan asked and Harry turned to look at her.

"What happened at breakfast?"

"I think that's exactly their point, Harry," Madam Pomfrey interjected. "But please, what did happen?"

"When we sat down, Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and spent the entire time eating with his left hand while he was chatting with Neville."

"I did?" He frowned as he tried to remember. "I remember breakfast and talking to Neville but that's all," he muttered.

"So that's something different. I think, you're being drawn more to the girls, Harry. Your bond wants you to be closer to them. Maybe it's just helping you overcome some of the trauma you've dealt with, or maybe it doesn't like you being so held apart from them, I don't know. And Miss Granger, we know what changed for Harry. He was scared, he was desperate, he overcame a well ingrained response, to never ask for help, and desperately begged for help when he needed it.

"So what has changed for you recently? Has something happened that has made you feel differently or think differently about them or the bond itself?"

Hermione slowly shook her head. "The only thing I can think of is yesterday, but it was nothing like what Harry experienced. I didn't push the bond wider or _do_ anything."

"It doesn't have to be like what Harry experienced," Poppy pointed out. "Each person is different, and each person's experiences will be different."

"Something did feel different yesterday," Susan offered. "After your party in the morning."

Hermione flushed and ducked her head.

"Hermione, what is it?" Harry asked.

She fidgeted for a moment before she sighed and looked up. "I've never had a party like that," she told them. "I never had any friends growing up. Kids in my school… they didn't understand me, and I couldn't relate to them. I was smarter than all of them. I liked reading, I like learning, and then I was so focused on… on learning everything I could so I could help you," she added, looking at Harry, "that I just didn't fit in.

"My parents did the best they could. They made sure I knew I was loved, and they did their best to make sure birthdays and holidays were as good as possible. But, I've never had someone that wasn't one of my parents, go out of their way for me like that. Harry you had the idea and got it planned. Daphne that picture you drew is amazing and it just means the world to me and Susan you helped bring it all together. I know you helped plan it all out and probably took care of inviting everyone."

She shrugged, almost helplessly. "I don't know. When I came downstairs after putting away my presents, I was thinking about what a simple thing it was, just a party, a few presents, but it meant so much to me. I hugged you and it occurred to me how you three have become the most important people in my life."

Before she was half way through speaking Harry's arms were wrapped around her and Susan and Daphne had converged on the pair, adding their own presence to what became a small pile of emotional children on a narrow hospital bed. Pomfrey smiled, leaning back in her seat as the four shared whispered words to each other and tiny wisps of light danced over their skin, unnoticed by any of the children. Flashes of gold, silver, green, and auburn, like lighting dancing across their skin and through their hair. There was more gold and silver than there was green and auburn, she noticed, but she was confident that would change with time.

"That would explain the change, I think. And I think we can safely say that this really isn't a problem, long term," Madam Pomfrey said after they'd collected themselves and rearranged their position on the bed so that all four were sitting together, touching each of their partners by hand or arm or shoulder. "Miss Granger, you felt so grateful, so close to them yesterday that I think the bond grew stronger. Since Harry already forced growth to his part of the bond, the two of you are connected a little differently, for now, then Daphne and Susan are."

"So we're less in the bond now?' Susan asked, sounding rather distraught by the idea.

"No at all. You are still connected to them. All four of you are connected for the rest of your lives, that will never change. One thing I do know about bonds like this is that they don't just come about, fully formed and functioning. Like anything it has to be nurtured and it has to grow over time. Like I said, each person is different, and so each of your growth into the bond will be different. Just because you and Daphne haven't extended the bond further, haven't integrated more with Hermione and Harry doesn't make your connection any less, and it doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you or them," she said firmly.

"You and Daphne will grow into the bond. It's a case of inevitability. It _will_ happen. When and how and why are up to you. But I want to stress one thing right now," she added and leaned forward, fixing the two girls with a stern glare. "We don't know what could happen if you try to manipulate your bond. Do not try to force it."

"But Harry forced the bond," Susan pointed out.

"Harry forced open the connection, but he did it out of a matter of need, not want. He didn't force the connection as a means to force growth into the bond, do you see the difference? The bond grew because he forced the connection to your emotions, but it wasn't forced to grow."

"That seems like a very fine distinction, Madam Pomfrey," Daphne said after they thought that over.

"It is, but that doesn't make it any less true. We need more information. And the last thing you need is to potentially cause yourselves or your bond mates any harm by trying to artificially force something that isn't ready yet. You will each get there in your own time so I don't want you to go mucking about with your connection, am I understood. That means no more cutting off your emotions, no manipulating your connection to each other in any way. Let things progress as naturally as possible. Until we know more, that's the safest thing for the four of you."

Daphne and Susan nodded. They knew better then to ignore her instructions and resolved to be careful and to do their best to keep the link open as much as possible. With nothing else of immediate importance after a few more minutes discussing the changing nature of their bond, the four students gathered themselves and left, heading off to finish up the last of their homework in the library.

Concerns about their bond, the voice Harry had heard, Luna's eccentric behavior, and whatever else they may encounter that year would never deter Hermione Granger from ensuring that all of them got their homework finished.

#####

Harry found himself unable to sleep that night. The girls had gone to bed hours ago, and he sat in the common room for a time reading through some of his extracurricular texts. Eventually, he couldn't concentrate on spells and jinxes any longer and had made his way up to bed just before the clock struck midnight.

An hour later, he was still staring up at the canopy. He felt restless. He considered heading out for a walk through the school but he immediately thought of that voice and he cringed at the idea of hearing it in person again.

Finally, at a quarter past one o'clock in the morning, he rolled out of bed and went to his trunk, carefully lifting the lid in the dark. The trunk was a special gift, something that Amelia had given to him that summer. It was magically expanded inside so that all of his clothes and school supplies could fit comfortably without things needing to be crammed in. Daphne had been particularly overjoyed and spent an entire afternoon ensuring that he'd packed properly so his robes wouldn't get wrinkled.

Most important to Harry, however, was the fact that it left enough room for him to carefully tuck the wooden chest from his mother into one corner. It was this that he removed from the trunk and after closing the lid he climbed back into bed and drew the curtains.

Sitting against the head board with the chest next to him he lit his wand with a whispered 'lumos' and started rifling through the chests contents. The snitch, he'd learned, had belonged to his father, who had been Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but he'd liked playing with the snitch, letting it go and catching it repeatedly. He set that aside, as well as three of the leather bound journals. Each one was stamped with a number on the cover 1, 2, and 3, and each one represented a year at Hogwarts in the life of one Lily Evans.

He'd already finished reading those three and would soon be finished with her fourth year. Harry found it fascinating to see how his parents originally met and had at first been dismayed to read that his mother had originally found his dad to be an arrogant prat and had wanted little, if anything, to do with him.

Digging further into the chest, which was larger inside than it appeared to be on the outside, though not to the extent of his school trunk, he pulled out the stack of envelopes, the letters from his parents. He'd long since separated them into two piles, one from his mother and one from his father, and had organized them from oldest to newest.

He was slowly working himself up to reading the letters. Something he hadn't been able to bring himself to do, yet.

He spent many minutes staring at the two stacks before finally, he reached out and took the first one off the pile written in his mothers hand. Carefully opening the envelope, he slipped out the single sheet of parchment, and by the light from his wand, he began to read.

#####

September 20th, 1992

Croaker stood in the room, staring at the wall.

"Why haven't we made any headway on this?" he asked of the silent figure standing motionless behind him. "We have some of the greatest minds in the wizarding world working here, and no one can hazard a guess as to why this is changing?"

"Of course we can, Director," Sable said. "But a guess is all it would really be. Without corroborating evidence to back it up we cannot be certain that any guess is correct."

Croaker said nothing and didn't move either. He knew that of course. His frustration with the situation was just starting to get the better of him. It hadn't helped that they'd had a reduced degree of surveillance on their targets since they'd returned to school. It was simple enough, for one field agent to slip in and out of the school without being detected. But for him to get enough agents in their to keep a constant watch on four different targets that weren't always together was a far more difficult task.

The golden lines on the wall had changed again. The lines that connected Harry Potter to Daphne Greengrass and Susan Bones were unchanged. The lines that connected Hermione Granger to the other two witches had now grown in thickness to almost equal the growth shown in the lines that extended from Potters name in the previous observed change. Now, however, the line that connected Harry Potter and Hermione Granger was twice as thick as it had been before.

"Has there been any more information on the subjects?" Croaker asked.

"Nothing new at this time, Director. We have managed to get a line of information on them, but nothing we've learned has shown or suggested anything worth mentioning."

"We may have to actually contact the subjects directly, eventually," Croaker admitted. "There's too much that's happening that goes on only inside those four kids. Nothing that can be observed without their cooperation and permission."

Sable said nothing.

After another five minutes spent staring at the wall, the pulsing golden light washing over them, Director Croaker spun about and exited the room.

"Contact Mink, have them meet us in my office. I have a new project for the research division and I want them heading the investigation."

"Understood, Director."

A tiny mote of light shot past Croakers head a moment later and down the hall, speeding quickly away and out of sight.

There was still plenty to do, and plenty of avenues open to them. Croaker considered them all, his mind turning over one plan after another until they reached his office to find another cloaked Unspeakable waiting outside the door.

"Mink," Croaker greeted the grey cloaked figure as he opened his door and strode into the office. He waved his wand and the shattered remains of a large hourglass floated off of his desk and into a bin in one corner of the office. A second wave and the sand, which had spilled everywhere, vanished.

"Be seated," he told the two figures and followed word with dead by seating himself in his chair behind his desk, his fingers laced together in front of his face as he rested his elbows on his desk.

"You wanted to speak to me, Director?" Mink asked and he nodded, his hood shifting with the motion.

"Yes. I have two projects in mind for you."

"We're already doing everything we can to find the last pair of Soul Bonded mates," Mink pointed out. "The Archives are in a severe state of disarray, something I'm beginning to think might have been intentional."

Croaker paused at that, noting Sable's surprised response. "You think the Archives of the Department of Mysteries was… what? Vandalized? Robbed?"

Mink shrugged. "It's difficult to say, Director. All I can say is that the information should have been catalogued and easy to find, even with the extent of the Archives contents. That we haven't been able to locate even a single reference is… disturbing, and telling in the extreme. I believe, personally, that someone carefully excised any and all references to Soul Bonded mates from our files somewhere along the line. I can't say when, how, or why. I can't even point to any one thing as evidence to show that it was actually done. It's just a gut feeling that I have.

"Someone doesn't want people looking into Soul Bonds, and I think they're actively working to guard, or eradicate any available information. To what purpose I have no idea, but that's the feeling I'm getting."

Croaker considered that in silence. If what Mink said was true, well, it lead to some rather disturbing suggestions. He shook that off and forged onward. "We'll have to look into what you're saying, but for the moment I had something else I wanted you to look for. Two somethings, actually. Number one: if we can't find the most recent information regarding Soul Bonds, go back to the beginning of the archives and work forward from there. Find me the first reference, and so on. Perhaps we'll shake something loose by approaching the problem from a different direction.

"Second: I want any and all materials from the last century that mentions The Hydra."

"Hydra, Sir?"

"The Hydra, specifically. I've got a niggling memory. It's tickling the back of my mind and I feel like it might be important, but I can't quite remember. Bring me everything you find in the next week so I can look through it and see what might shake loose."

Mink nodded and stood. "Of course, Director," they said. "I'll get a team on those immediately."

"Only for the Soul Bond," Croaker interrupted as Mink turned toward the door, stopping the Unspeakable. "As far as The Hydra is concerned, I don't want anyone else other than the three of us in this room to even know that you're looking. You'll handle that personally, delegate your other duties if need be, but I want that information by this time a week from now.

Mink hesitated a moment before they nodded and then swiftly left the office without another word.

"Director?" Sable asked and Croaker leaned back in his chair with a long sigh.

"I don't know, old friend," he said, staring blankly ahead of him, not that Sable could tell. "Maybe nothing, maybe everything. I'll know more once I check the materials.

Sable accepted that with a silent nod and then left the Director alone with his thoughts, the door swinging shut with a quiet click behind him.


	23. Problems and Bludgers

**Author's Note: Here we are once again, The Rotten Writer returning with another, slightly delayed update. Things have been rough lately, but I'm trying gang, and making headway. I promised this story won't be abandoned and I'm sticking to it. Now if only I could get the same level of motivation for my publishable work, I'd be in business. But I'll get there.**

 **It's been commented that Susan and Daphne don't seem to be developing as much as the other characters, and I'll admit, that this is true. It wasn't really intended to relegate them to the background so much but it kinda happened, and actually works a bit with some future plans I had, now I can work furthering their development into those plans and I think it'll all play out much better that way.**

 **We're working our way through the year and I'm very excited for the later chapters coming up. I have some fun plans that I can't wait to work in. I'm looking at having to rewrite some of the later scenes that I've already written out. I actually have small scenes that came to me a while back written that take place in the summer before third year and fourth year, before and during the yule ball in fourth year, as well as one that takes place in summer before fifth year. Some of what's happened makes a bit of the dialogue in those scenes make no sense so I'll have to adjust, but it's going to be fun either way. I'm looking forward to peoples reactions to some of the adjustments Ihave planned.**

 **Nothing else to say really this time so, onto the disclaimer.**

 **Disclaimer: I still own nothing related to Harry Potter and doubt I ever will. Please no sue. Thank you.**

 **Now, we move on to Chapter 22 of Soul Scars**

Soul Scars Part 2

Darkness Within

by,

Rtnwriter

Weeks passed them by with the steady regularity they'd come to expect of the passage of time. Weeks where little more happened of any serious note. Each Sunday they met Madam Pomfrey but found no further changes to their bond, though Hermione did continue to share Harry's nightmares. Not all of them, but when she did, she found herself sitting in the common room on the sofa with him again. He would hold her, largely in silence, until they were both calm enough to return to bed.

Sometimes, Susan and Daphne would sit with them, offering their own comfort as best they could, and sometimes they wouldn't. The nightmares were inconvenient, and Hermione was not comfortable with the decrease in sleep that she was getting, but Harry saw an improvement in the amount of sleep he was getting overall. Hermione's presence was more soothing than anything else he'd found and while part of him wished to just sleep on the couch, holding her as they had that first night, he knew it wasn't a good idea. The rumors and gossip that would start would be insane and he cringed at the thought.

Homework steadily piled up, Quidditch practice for Harry started and with Slytherin's new brooms Wood had really gone off the deep end and had tried to schedule nightly practice sessions. It eventually got to the point that the entire team, minus Wood, had been forced to go to McGonagall to get her to talk to him about it. Practice days were reduced to three times a week after that.

A few days after Hermione first shared Harry's nightmare he received a response from Sharpshard. The goblins _did_ have information on Soul Bonds, but they would need to come to the bank to meet with Sharpshard in person to retrieve it. The four of them had been both elated and disappointed at the letter. It was encouraging to find that there was some actual information available, but they didn't care for having to wait until the Christmas Break before they could retrieve it.

On the night before Halloween Daphne found herself lying awake in bed long after Hermione and Susan had already fallen asleep. She stared up at the darkened canopy above them as her thoughts spun in a dizzying circle through her head. _Each person grows differently,_ she reminded herself as she glanced at the slender form sleeping next to her.

Hermione's face was serene, calm in her slumber. Gone was the constant worry and stress that the other girl put on herself. She worried about school work. She worried about tests. She worried about learning all she could and proving herself. Who she was trying to impress, Daphne wasn't entirely sure. And she worried about Harry. Daphne knew that she worried about her and Susan as well, but Harry, it seemed, would always be her focus. And wasn't that the same of all of them? Didn't she and Susan worry about Harry, and focus so much of their efforts on him and the bond they shared?

But the bond wasn't the same anymore. Harry and Hermione had grown closer, leaving her and Susan behind. Not entirely. Not really, even. But in a way they had. Daphne wasn't jealous of Hermione. She didn't begrudge the other girl the closeness she'd found with their shared bond mate. But it still hurt, somewhere deep inside that she didn't share in that closeness with them.

She sighed into the dark, turning back to stare up into the shadows once again instead of focusing on the girl beside her. A soft pain echoed in her chest and she shook her head, violently shoving certain thoughts from her mind.

"Hurts, doesn't it?"

She started and sat up slightly, supporting her weight on her right elbow as she looked over Hermione's prone form into a pair of deep blue eyes framed by silken red strands. Susan's expression was knowing, understanding without pity.

"What?" she asked.

"It hurts," Susan whispered. "The last month, knowing how much closer they are, how they're growing into this bond faster than we are." Susan blinked slowly, her expressive eyes covered for a moment before opening again, shining wetly in the dim light. "They didn't do it on purpose. They're not leaving us behind. She isn't trying to take him from us or anything like that, but it still hurts."

Daphne wanted to deny it. She didn't want to admit to being selfish, to feeling left out of something that had truly been beyond their control. But she knew that Susan understood, and she would know if she wasn't truthful.

"Yes, it hurts. Not a lot, not terribly. But that's almost worse. It's a small hurt, but it hasn't gone away at all." But it was more than that. A thought whispered at the back of her mind. A night in front of the fire in the common room.

"What is it, Daphne?" Susan asked in a quiet whisper.

Daphne shook her head and lowered herself back to the bed, pulling the blanket back up around her from where it had been disturbed when she'd sat up.

"It's nothing, Susan," she lied. "I'm just worried. I hope… I hope we grow into this bond soon."

Daphne rolled over, putting her back to the other girls and closed her eyes, desperately hoping she'd fall asleep, and praying that Susan would let it go and not question her further.

#####

"I'm still not sure how we got dragged into that," Harry muttered the next evening as they were climbing the stairs out of the dungeons, chilled and hungry.

"You were stupid and promised Sir Nicholas that you'd attend his Deathday Party?" Neville offered and Harry grimaced.

"Well he did help keep me out of that detention with Filch."

"What I don't understand," Daphne huffed from behind them, "is how we got dragged into it as well. Only you said you'd go," she pointed out and Harry glanced over his shoulder at her. All day Daphne had seemed to be in a bad mood and he couldn't figure out what might have happened.

It was nothing truly overt, as she was so good about controlling her emotions and her expressions. But she'd behaved very coldly toward him and Hermione, and only showed a tiny bit of warmth when she spoke to Susan throughout the day. More than once he'd caught Susan giving the blond girl a concerned look when she was distracted or focusing on something else.

"While it may not have been exactly pleasant, you have to admit it was interesting," Hermione insisted. "I mean, how many living people get invited to an event like that?"

Beside her, Daphne let out a very unladylike snort. "Interesting is just one of a list of things that it was not," she muttered. "Annoying? Yes. Disgusting? Absolutely. But not interesting in the slightest."

"I kind of have to agree with Daphne," Susan cut in before Hermione could mount a protest. "We're alive. A Deathday party is no place for living people." They'd come to a stop on the stairs as Harry and Neville kept walking. Hermione had turned to face Daphne, a frown on her face and a wave of irritation rolling across the bond.

"It's a fascinating look into ghost behavior," she insisted. "And just because it wasn't really set up for living people doesn't mean it's not a learning opportunity that should be taken."

Daphne glared at Hermione and Susan looked back and forth between the two apprehensively.

"We didn't belong there, Hermione!" Daphne practically yelled at the other girl, startling her back a step at her vehemence. Daphne rarely raised her voice. "I'm cold. I'm tired. I'm hungry." She glanced down at her watch and stifled a groan. "And by now the feast is probably over. We're going to have to go by the kitchens if we want to get anything to-"

"What was that?"

The girls stopped their growing argument and turned to look up toward where Harry and Neville were standing near the top of the stairs. He had his back to them, head cocked to the side as if listening to something.

Susan opened her mouth to speak when he suddenly blurted out, "I hear it again!" and took off running. In a heartbeat he'd vanished into the hall, leaving the four of them to scramble after him, the girls argument all but forgotten in the moment.

Harry had always been fast on his feet, what with the years of practice he'd received courtesy of his cousin. But he'd only gotten faster after three months of steady physical training. The girls were quickly left behind with only Neville even barely able to keep up with him since he'd started joining Harry in his exercise routine after the first couple of days training with them.

Harry, of course, noticed none of this. His nightmares flashed through his mind. Nightmares where that hideous voice hunted his girls. _No_ , he growled mentally. _I will not let you hurt them!_

He'd worn his dragon hide boots that day, the same boots he'd worn at the start of the summer when he visited Gringotts and Sharpshard had handed him that first letter from his mother. They were nearly completely silent against the stones beneath him, but even if each step had echoed like a gunshot it was doubtful that he would have noticed. His ears were filled with the sound of that voice as he ran, it blocked out everything else.

"… _Rip… tear… kill…"_

"No, no, no!" he snapped. "Where are you, you damn…" The voice sounded like it was moving away, moving up. Was it some kind of phantom or something? Something that could move through walls?

"This way!" he shouted, and took off running down a side corridor. Neville groaned just as he reached the juncture where Harry had paused and glanced back to see the girls running along behind him. Steeling himself he sprinted after his friend.

"… _Soo hungry… for so long…"_

"Not gonna happen," Harry snarled.

"… _kill …time to kill…"_

Harry growled under his breath and bolted up a set of stairs into the Entrance Hall. He dashed up the marble staircase to the first floor with Neville clattering behind him and the girls closing in.

"Harry," Neville gasped as he stopped next to the young Potter where he stood, stock still, at the top of the stairs. "What're we-"

"SHH!"

Harry strained his ears, listening carefully. From the floor above, faint, and growing fainter still, he heard it. _"…I smell blood… I SMELL BLOOD!"_

"It's going to kill someone," he hissed, and ignoring the girls pleas to wait and Neville's confused expression, he ran up the next flight of steps, taking the steps three at a time, trying to listen over his own breathing. He hurtled around the whole of the second floor, his friend and bond mates panting behind him, not stopping until the turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.

"Harry, _what_ was that all about?" Neville asked, wiping a sheen of sweat from his face with the sleeve of his robes.

" _Look!"_

The turned, and followed Daphne's pointing finger to where she was indicating down the corridor. Something was shining on the wall ahead. They approached slowly, wands in hand, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been slathered onto the wall between two windows, shimmering in the dim light cast by the torches that lined the corridors.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

"There's something… hanging there, underneath," Susan murmured, her face pale and her long hair sticking to the side of her face and neck where it had come loose from her ponytail.

They slid closer, and Harry would have slipped if it wasn't for his boots when they hit a large puddle of water on the floor. He motioned to it, hissing to them to be careful and inched closer toward the message, eyes fixed on the dark shadow beneath it. All five of them realized what it was nearly at the same time and leapt backward with a splash.

Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket, eyes wide and staring.

They were silent for a time before Harry suddenly muttered, "we should get out of here."

"But… shouldn't we try to help?" Neville asked and Harry shook his head.

"Trust me, we do not want to be seen here. I've seen it enough times. No one's going to listen to anything and we're guilty until proven innocent," he said, a touch bitterly.

It was, however, far too late for that. A rumbling sound, as of a distant thunder, told them the feast had ended. In no time the sounds of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs reached them and the next moment, students were crashing into the passage where they stood from both ends. The chatter, bustle, and noise of the many students died suddenly as the people at the front of either crowd spotted the hanging cat. The five of them stood alone, in the middle of the corridor as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward for a glimpse of the disturbing sight.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware!" a voice shouted. "You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

Harry turned, a snarl on his lips as Draco Malfoy pushed his way to the front of the crowd, his cold grey eyes unusually alive and his normal pale features flushed as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.

#####

"I didn't know that Filch was a squib," Daphne remarked from her seat in front of the Headmasters desk.

"Well, it certainly explains a few things about him," Susan offered, a frown marring her features from a seat beside her blond bond mate.

Neville sat between Susan and Hermione, who had moved her chair a foot or two further away. The earlier argument between the girls hadn't been as forgotten as the Longbottom heir had hoped and the girls still seemed, at best, miffed, with each other.

"How do you mean?" he asked, when neither Hermione or Harry offered up anything in response.

"Well, if he can't do magic, I'd imagine he must be rather bitter working in a school filled with kids that take being able to use magic for granted. Only muggleborn or raised students would be at all in awe of magic when they first come here, and even most of them start to take it as commonplace as time goes on."

"Then why work in a magic school?"

Susan shrugged. She had no answer for that so couldn't offer anything to explain it.

They lapsed back into silence and Neville glanced to Harry who stood with his back to them, staring at the little whirling silver instruments that dotted the shelves and tables in the office. Neville really didn't know what to think of what had happened. He hadn't been able to keep up with Harry on his run through the castle. But he thought he should have been able to hear whatever voice it was that Harry claimed to have heard.

He didn't think his friend was lying, but it worried him what other explanation there could be. After Malfoy's shout in the hall where Neville'd been forced to grab Harry by the arm to prevent the other boy from physically lunging at the Malfoy heir, the teachers had responded relatively quickly to the disturbance. Lockhart, McGonagall, Snape, Filch, and the Headmaster himself had converged on the hall. The staff arrived to find the caretaker accusing Harry of cursing his cat, all while screaming that Harry'd found something that told them Filch was a squib.

Quickly, the students were shuffled along to their dorms, Malfoy still looking quite pleased with himself. For some reason, Snape, of all people, had come to their defense, pointing out that it was unlikely for second year students to be capable of doing something like petrifying a cat. For petrified she was, not dead as she'd appeared, something Neville had been grateful for, even as much as he disliked the old caretaker and his cat, he didn't want the animal dead.

After a discussion in the Defense professors office they'd been ordered to the Headmaster's office and told to wait. Twenty minutes later they were still waiting and Neville was starting to wonder how long they would be left there. He really was hungry and was hoping to get down to the kitchens for a something to eat before bed.

As if the thought had summoned him, the door behind them swung open and the Headmaster entered the office with McGonagall and Snape behind him. Neville saw Harry stiffen but the other boy didn't turn, remaining focused on the items he'd been studying as the door closed with a quiet click and the Headmaster moved around his desk to sink into his large, overstuffed chair with an audible sigh.

"Well," he said in a soothing tone of voice, "this has been an unusual evening."

The girls shrugged and Neville made no response as Harry continued to keep his back to the room at large.

"I would like it, if you might explain to me, again, how exactly you wound up in that particular corridor this evening," the Headmaster asked and four of them exchanged glances but no one spoke immediately.

"Why bother?"

Four students and three professors turned their attention to the dark haired individual standing to one side. Harry hadn't raised his voice, but there was an undercurrent of anger running through those two simple words that caught the attention of everyone in the room.

"What was that, Mister Potter?" the Headmaster asked, mildly.

"It's Lord Potter," Harry snapped, and turned to face them, his eyes hardened chips of emerald in a face that could have been carved from stone for all the emotion his expression conveyed. "It's been impressed upon me, many times since the school year started, that the professors in this school would use my title in a professional setting. I'm still not comfortable with it, but as this is an official school matter I'd appreciate it if you, of all people, didn't pretend to have any right to familiarity with me, Headmaster."

"Just like your father," Snape spat, obsidian eyes glaring daggers at Harry. "You have no right to speak to the Headmaster like that you arrogant little-"

"That is more than enough, Severus," the Headmaster cut him off, his eyes never wavering from Harry's. "I apologize, Lord Potter, you are, of course, correct. You appear to have some issue with me, which I will gladly discuss with you momentarily. But if we could handle the events of this evening first, that would be appreciated."

Harry continued to glare at the old wizard while his friend and bond mates looked back and forth between the two in varying degrees of shock. Neville hadn't been privy to any of the signs of Harry's anger toward the Headmaster and couldn't understand where it was coming from while the girls were getting conflicting and wildly fluctuating emotions flooding across the bond. Anger, of course, mixed with fear, pain, and a deep sorrow.

After nearly a minute of silence Harry finally nodded his head, once.

"What did you mean by 'why bother?', Lord Potter?"

"I meant what I said. Why bother explaining anything? From my experience people will believe what they want to believe, so what point is there in trying to explain anything when you've all come to your own conclusions already?"

"That is a failing of human nature, to be sure," Dumbledore admitted. "We tend to have expectations based on our experiences in life, much as the expectation you just admitted to based on your experiences. I have personally found it better to attempt to withhold coming to any sort of conclusions before I have gathered as much information as I possibly can about a situation. However, I cannot do that if the information is not provided when I seek it. In that case, you would have no one but yourself to blame for any conclusions I may draw."

Harry considered that for a moment before slowly nodding again and he finally moved over to stand near the desk, ignoring the seat that was waiting for him. He crossed his arms over his chest and took a deep breath before launching into the story.

"We were attending Sir Nicholas' Deathday party in the dungeons," he explained. "It wasn't much of a party, to be honest, since we were the only living people there. We'd just decided to leave since we were all getting hungry and hoped to make the end of the feast when I thought I heard something."

"And what might that have been?" Dumbledore asked.

"A voice, maybe," Harry said with a shrug. "I couldn't really make it out but something didn't sound right to me. I thought maybe someone was in trouble so I ran off, trying to find it and ended up in that corridor."

"And where were your… friends, while you were chasing this phantom voice?" Snape demanded, glowering at the five of them from a spot against the wall to their left.

"We were chasing after him," Neville spoke up, shrinking back from the Potions Masters glare as it shifted specifically to him. "He went tearing off and we were right behind him."

"So you all arrived at the scene together?" Dumbledore asked and the girls nodded.

"No." Harry shook his head, ignoring how his bond mates stared at him. "I'm faster than they are, but Neville was only a few seconds behind me and the girls were just behind him."

"So you were the first on the scene, then."

"I was. But I didn't see anything other than what we found. There didn't seem to be anyone else in the hall and other than the writing, that large puddle of water, and Mrs. Norris…" Harry shrugged again and crossed his arms over his chest, his hands tightening on the opposite arm in a white knuckled grip.

"What do you think could have happened, Professor?" Daphne asked after several minutes passed and Harry didn't appear inclined to say anything more.

Dumbledore sighed and leaned back in his seat, looking pensive.

"I cannot say, with any assurance, Miss Greengrass," he admitted. "As much as it pains me to admit, but even with my many years of experience and accumulated knowledge, I cannot, and do not, know everything there is to know about magic and what it is capable of doing. Suffice it to say, it is apparent this was a deliberate attack. Mrs. Norris is alive, and unharmed if, of course, in a state of petrification. Luckily, it is reversible, it will simply take some time for the Mandrakes that Professor Sprout is growing this year to mature so they can be used in the curative."

He glanced at a clock sitting on his desk before turning his attention back to them. "It is getting quite late, so I shall not keep you any longer. Professor McGonagall, if you could please escort your lions back to their common room, that would be much appreciated. I will instruct the castle elves to send up something for the five of you to eat sine you missed this evenings feast."

The recognized the clear dismissal for what it was and Neville and the girls stood without a word and made their way toward the door.

"Lord Potter," Dumbledore called out just before he followed them down the spinning staircase. "My door is always open to the students in this school. At some time in the near future, if you would like to discuss what has you so angry with me, I am at your disposal. Simply inform the gargoyle, and if I am present, I will make myself available to you."

Harry paused for a moment, but said nothing, and simply continued on his way down the stairs, letting the door swing shut behind him.

#####

As the six of them, five students and one professor made their way through the castle's darkened corridors, Minerva McGonagall couldn't help but think over everything that had been learned and discussed that evening. The attack on Filch's cat worried her, and the fact that five of her cubs had discovered it pushed that worry to new heights. When she added in the anger Harry was directing at the Headmaster, she was starting to feel that this was going to be another year filled with secrets and strange going's on in the school.

"Lord Potter," she spoke up suddenly, stopping the entire group while they were still a distance away from the portrait of the Fat Lady that opened into the Gryffindor common room. "I believe I understand where this anger at the Headmaster is coming from, and no," she added. "I won't be questioning you about it. Suffice it to say if it is for the reason I believe it to be then I would like to inform you that I understand, and agree wholeheartedly with your reasoning. I even warned the Headmaster about it last year. I told him, that one day you would learn of this, and I believed that, if you inherited your mothers temper, that it would not be a good day to be Albus Dumbledore.

"I would like to invite you, and anyone else you wish to bring, to tea again, this Saturday. We already discussed that this year, and I apologize for not extending the invitation sooner. I… I would like to discuss this particular issue more with you at that time, if you're willing."

Harry considered that for a moment before he nodded. "I would like that, Professor," he admitted before glancing to the girls as he let out a pent up breath. "I think I have a few explanations to give before then, however. I'm fairly sure we'll be there, but at the very least, I will be in attendance. After dinner on Saturday?"

She nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line as she resumed escorting them to the portrait. "That would be more than acceptable, Lord Potter." She gave the password and as the portrait swung open she wished them a pleasant evening and reminded them all that the hour was growing late and they should soon be seeking their beds before she turned and made her way to her own quarters, leaving her students behind in the safety of Gryffindor Tower.

They quickly weaved their way through the collections of tables, chairs, and sofas that dotted the room to arrive at their spots by the fireplace. The girls dropped into their seats on the sofa while Harry stood behind his usual chair, his hands on the back of it as if seeking support when he noticed Neville hovering nearby, unsure if he was meant to be included.

"Come on and take a seat, Nev," Harry offered after a few seconds of thought.

"I don't need to-"

"No," Harry cut him off. "No you don't need to. But you said it yourself. We do trust you, Neville, and we value your friendship. I know it can't be easy being our friend with so many things being kept from you… and maybe… maybe I need to trust a little more. I…" he trailed off, a slightly pained expression stealing over his face and Susan leaned forward, catching his attention.

"Harry, are you sure you want to tell him, now? Not that we don't trust you, Neville, that's not the issue in the slightest. Just there are some things that are hard to talk about."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, Susan. I'm sure. As sure as I can be at least," he said while Neville hesitantly moved closer and sank into a seat so they were all facing Harry.

His hands worried at the back of the chair, fingers flexing and relaxing and his palms sliding back and forth across the upholstered surface as he thought of how to explain.

He decided to start with Neville.

"Nev," he said, causing the other boy to focus all of his attention on him, dark eyes serious in a face that had lost much of its baby fat over their recent time in physical training, making him appear older than his twelve years. "You've seen enough, heard enough, you know my life before here hasn't been… hasn't been pleasant."

Neville nodded, unwilling to risk breaking the delicate atmosphere by speaking.

"I grew up with my aunt and uncle and they didn't treat me well."

The girls all scoffed, nearly in unison as Daphne glowered and Hermione muttered darkly under her breath, but Harry ignored their reactions, keeping his focus on his only other close friend.

"That's an understatement," he admitted. "I have…" Here he trailed off and his jaw worked up and down several times but he couldn't force the words out, couldn't bring himself to speak, yet again, of things he wished he didn't ever even have to think about, much less discuss with others. Harry shot a pleading look in the girls direction and Daphne took up the silent request. She might have had some issues of her own going on, but she wouldn't, couldn't, deny any of her bond mates help when it was needed.

"Harry has scars, Neville," she said, drawing his attention away from Harry and onto her. She kept her voice even and controlled, using every ounce of her training to control her emotions leaving her in full Ice Queen mode. Her face blank, eyes cold. "He has a _lot_ of scars and he got them from his relatives. His treatment growing up in that house was reprehensible at best. We don't honestly know exactly what happened to him, he hasn't even been able to speak about it to us, yet." _I hope it's 'yet' and not 'never',_ she thought. "I'm sure you can understand now why some things haven't been spoken of around you. It isn't that we don't trust and value you and your friendship, it's just been too hard."

Neville's eyes had hardened, that same steel that Harry remembered from the night they went after the Stone entering his gaze and he nodded. "I understand completely," he said. "Please, don't think anything of it. I've already said I understood and I still do, even more so now." He looked over at Harry who had a white knuckled grip on the back of his chair. "They've been dealt with?" he asked in a cold, angry tone that they'd never heard from the usually amiable young scion.

Harry nodded.

"Good." The satisfaction was clearly evident in Neville's voice and some of the tension went out of Harry's body. Not all, but some. "You're never going back there, right?"

Harry shook his head. "Susan's aunt has taken over as my legal guardian. Even if they weren't in jail I wouldn't have to go back there ever again."

"You're my friend, Harry. And you've been a good one, but I think you're missing some basic understanding of what that means." Neville barked out a laugh for a moment and offered a wry smile. "Not as though I'm some great expert at friendships myself. You guys are my first real friends. But to me friends means we look out for each other, and we don't judge. I can guess how difficult this all has to be but, I just want you to try to keep in mind that I'll never judge you. Wherever a Potter goes, a Longbottom stands beside them. I made my intentions clear that first day on the train last year. If you ever need or want to talk, you _can_ trust me that nothing we discuss will ever go any further unless I have your permission."

"That much, I haven't ever doubted, Nev," Harry told him, gratefully. "Like I said, it's not a matter of trusting you. I just can't talk about it, yet. Not really. I had to once already for the investigation against my relatives but the next day was that disastrous match against Hufflepuff."

"That's why you were so…" Neville trailed off, not really sure what word to use.

"I was a wreck, plain and simple. I know I've got to get through it eventually, I just haven't been able to face it yet."

"All right, Harry," Susan said as Harry finally came around and sank into his seat. "That's Neville brought up to speed. Now can you please explain what the animosity for the Headmaster is?"

Harry took a deep breath and held it for a moment before he let it out in an explosive sigh and decided to just rip off the plaster. "Until I took up my ring and became Lord Potter and emancipated, Dumbledore was apparently my Magical Guardian."

He waited then with baited breath for the inevitable explosion and when it came it was not from the direction he expected it to be. Harry expected Daphne to react first and with the most hostility given the little he knew of her treatment growing up. He might have expected Hermione for her very passionate defenses of him thus far.

"THAT WHISKERED WANKER! I SWEAR I'LL STRANGLE HIM WITH HIS OWN BLOODY BEARD!"

Harry was surprised when Susan Amelia Bones completely and utterly lost her shit a mere handful of seconds after he spoke. She was out of her seat and making her way across the common room, her wand already in hand, before Harry caught up to her and wrapped both arms around her waist from behind, lifting her bodily off the ground as she kicked her feet and struggled in his grip.

"Let go of me, Harry!" she shrieked. "I'm going to kill him! I swear to Merlin he's going to wish for someone to hit him with the cruciatus by the time I'm finished with his wrinkled old arse!"

"He's not worth that kind of reaction, Susan," Daphne said in a quiet tone that nonetheless managed to cut through the redheads ranting and silenced her immediately. "There are better ways to deal with Albus Dumbledore than flying off and trying to hex him into the next decade."

Harry set a much calmer, or at least not ranting and raving, Susan down on her feet and led her back to her spot on the sofa next to Hermione who wrapped one arm around the other girl and offered what comfort she could.

"Would someone tell me what that means?" she asked, hating being the only one in the room that didn't appear to know a piece of information. The look on Neville's face when Harry spoke that one sentence had told her that he knew what it meant as well and she really did not like feeling out of the loop.

"A student's magical guardian is in charge of decisions in regards to the magical world. In the case of an orphan, like Harry, that includes choosing where the child is sent to live," Daphne explained. "Bottom line, Dumbledore is the one that sent Harry to that house. He's, at best, indirectly responsible for everything that happened to him while he was living there."

"And you're not ranting like Susan because…" Hermione asked. Harry was quite happy to note that he could feel honest curiosity from her, not accusation or anger. At least, no anger directed at their blond bond mate.

"I much prefer the philosophy of getting even over getting angry. Getting angry is a waste of time and energy when we could better spend that time plotting how we're going to make that shriveled old bastard pay for what he's done."

If they hadn't been able to feel the anger rolling off of Daphne, the cold, emotionless tone in which she'd delivered her last statement would have really worried Harry, Susan, and Hermione. As it was Neville found himself feeling completely terrified of the blond girl while her bond mates simply gave a feral grin in response.

"I've been trying to think of something to do but I haven't been able to come up with anything that would really work, or I think would be appropriate," Harry admitted.

"There's no such thing as truly appropriate under circumstances like this," Daphne told him firmly. "What he did. Sending you there. Obviously never checking on you, at least I hope he never checked up on you."

"You hope he _didn't_?" Neville asked in confusion. "Why would you hope for that?"

"Because the alternative is that he did check and either he was fooled by some muggles with no magical power of their own, or he checked and knew how Harry was being treated but did nothing anyway and just left him there to suffer."

Daphne's eyes narrowed dangerously and Neville gulped. "If I ever find out that Dumbledore actually knew what was going on but failed to act, I swear I will make it my life's mission to make the remainder of his as close to a living hell as I can possibly arrange."

#####

For the next few days, all anyone in the castle could talk about was the attack, or so it seemed to Harry and the others. Everywhere they turned whispered conversations were interrupted as they approached and strange looks were cast in their direction. Filch lurked in the hall near the scene of the crime, eyes red from crying and in a particularly foul mood as he handed out detentions for the most inane things.

Ginny Weasley had taken the attack particularly hard and Ron explained to them that she'd always been a great lover of cats. They'd shrugged that off, for the most part, as they had greater concerns on their minds.

When they met with their Head of House for tea that Saturday, it was a group of five that entered the office. Hermione was struggling with an ingrained respect for authority, but after discussing the situation, she found herself more than willing to embrace her anger with the old wizard. "After all," Susan had pointed out, "you have no respect whatsoever for Lockhart and _he's_ in a position of authority." It was a considerably stronger blow to them all however to learn that McGonagall had been there the night he was left on the Dursley's doorstep. They were only slightly mollified by the knowledge that she had vehemently protested his being left there, but she hadn't actually done anything about it other than to mount a verbal protest.

They'd left the office before finishing their tea and Harry had given no indication yet that he intended to return another time though the professor let them know that it was a standing invitation should they decide to join her at another time.

A little more than a week after the incident, several events seemed to happen almost all at once.

First, for the first time that anyone could remember, a student raised their hand and interrupted Binns during one of his monotonous lectures. Hermione questioned the ghost professor about the Camber of Secrets and every student had come instantly awake, or been shaken by their neighbors as Binns stared uncomprehendingly at his students. Little information was gleaned from the discussion, save the story that Salazar Slytherin had built a hidden chamber, somewhere within the castle, and even after his famous break from the other founders, it had never been located. The conversations whipping around the castle after that then included conjecture and guesses as to what the 'horror' that Slytherin could have left behind in the Chamber might be. While others wondered, Harry ignored it in favor of noticing a strange trend amongst some of the other students.

It had started that morning, before class, when Justin Finch-Fletchley had turned and walked away from Harry in the library. Harry noticed other students seeming to avoid him or keep their distance from him and he couldn't understand what it was that was causing the strange behavior, but he definitely didn't care for it.

The third thing was Susan receiving a letter from her aunt. Amelia wrote in response to a letter they'd sent out the morning after the attack, detailing what'd happened, and what little they knew. Harry even agreed to Susan telling Amelia about the voice he'd heard, even though he hadn't mentioned it to anyone other than his bond mates and Neville. She didn't know what to make of the situation, but she reminded them of Dobby's warning, something that hadn't been far from their minds, and promised that she would do her best to look into the situation. Unfortunately, there was little she _could_ do, unless the Headmaster contacted her offices. She was unable to simply barge into the school and demand to conduct an investigation. So far, she'd heard nothing from the old wizard, but promised that she would contact him and ask after the situation. In the meantime, she begged them to stick together and to be cautious.

That afternoon, after classes, Hermione approached Lockhart and, with a bit of flattery that left her feeling nauseous, she got a pass to the restricted section and met the rest of them in the common room just before dinner.

"Polyjuice potion," she said, laying a piece of parchment on the table near their seats as the rest of them gave her a blank look. "It's a potion that will let whoever drinks it take on the appearance of someone else for an hour," she explained. "If we could make ourselves look like a few of the Slythherins, we might be able to get into their common room and ask some questions."

"Who is it you want to question?" Neville asked as he read through the potion ingredients and brewing procedure.

"Malfoy," she said darkly. "He was entirely too pleased with that awful message on the wall. I'd be willing to bet he's either the heir himself, or he at least knows who is."

"Do we really want to go looking for trouble though?" Daphne asked. "This is a complicated looking potion, it'd take… at least a month to brew, and that's if we can get all the ingredients in a timely manner."

"I know. But I want to know what he knows.

"Doesn't look like we've got a lot of other options at the moment. I don't like just sitting around doing nothing so I say full steam ahead," Harry said after he'd looked over the potion as well. "My only question is it should be ready just before the Christmas break, were we still planning on going home for the break or should we stay here and take the opportunity to try and get into the Slytherin common room?"

"Let's worry about it when it get's closer," Susan decided. "We don't even know if Malfoy is planning on staying over for Christmas this year. If he decides to go home then it's a moot point, right?"

Agreed they set the potion aside as Daphne and Hermione started cataloguing what ingredients they would need to acquire and the others put away their belongings so they could head down to the Great Hall for dinner.

#####

"Are you ever going to tell us what's been bothering you?"

Daphne forced herself not to sigh and didn't turn to look at the girl sitting next to her either. She knew it wouldn't do her ay good, but she still did it, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on their bond mate as he flew a few laps around the pitch before the start of the game.

Lee Jordan was commenting again, but she couldn't focus on what was being said with Hermione trying to burn a hole in the side of her head just with the heat of her gaze alone.

"Drop it," Daphne finally said. "Nothing is bothering me."

"You're lying, Daphne."

She could hear the hurt in Hermione's voice as well as feel it across their bond. They had discovered, through a bit of experimentation, that Hermione had lost any ability to suppress or hide her emotions from the rest of them, just like Harry had. Whatever the growing should in each of them signified, it was obvious that as the bond grew it would prevent them from hiding anything from each other. With their emotions permanently on display, with Harry and Hermione sharing dreams and nightmares, and who knew what else would happen as they got closer, eventually they would have no secrets from each other.

Daphne really didn't know how she felt about that.

"Yes," she admitted. "You're right, I am lying." Her eyes tracked Harry as he dodged a bludger. "Maybe I should have said, 'I don't want to talk about it'," she added as he dodged another bludger and her eyes followed the animated iron ball as it turned in a wide, graceful arc and headed straight at Harry again.

"Daphne," Hermione sighed out. "We keep telling Harry that he can talk to us, but it goes for all of us as well." She reached out and took Daphne's hand in her own as, in the sky, one of the Weasley twins slammed the bludger away with a tremendous swing of his bat. The bludger immediately swung back and right toward Harry again.

"Something's wrong," Daphne muttered.

"That's good," Hermione said encouragingly. "I want us all to be able to talk to each other-"

"No, Hermione, something is wrong," Daphne snapped as she cut the other girl off and pointed in Harry's direction. Hermione turned and looked up at him just in time to see him duck the bludger yet again.

The rain started to fall, quickly building up into a steady downpour.

#####

In the air, Harry was struggling to dodge the bludger, search for the snitch, and ignore Malfoy's taunts, all while the twins hovered around him, trying to keep the bludger from taking his head off.

 _Dammit,_ he thought. _I can't see anything with them in the way all the time._

He took a quick lap around the pitch to give himself some room to breathe, and to think.

#####

As soon as the rain started, the girls and Neville had cast warming and water repelling charms around themselves.

"What is going on with that bludger?" Susan asked. She'd been more focused on what Hermione had been saying, curious to see if Daphne would finally admit to the hurt she was feeling.

"It's locked onto Harry, somehow," Neville. "Think the Slytherins had anything to do with it?"

"Could they have?"

#####

"Not possible," Wood reluctantly admitted down on the ground. They'd called a time out, but even now the bludger pursued Harry with a single minded determination that kept the twins hovering around the rest of the team to run interference while Harry was surrounded by the others. "I'd love to blame them, but between games the balls are kept locked up in Hooch's office. There's no way the snakes could have done anything to it.

Over Wood's shoulder, Harry saw Madam Hooch beginning to approach them.

"Look, what happens if we stop the match to request an inquiry?" Harry asked quickly.

"We have to forfeit the match."

"Forfeit because someone sabotaged a bludger?" Harry shook his head, rain flying off of his matted hair with the motion. "No way, we're not giving Slytherin a win. Not like that." He wiped some water off of his face and looked around at the team, noting the twins leaning in his direction to listen in. "All right, the only way I'm going to catch the snitch at this rate is if I swallow the damn thing again. Gred and Forge should cover the rest of the team, leave this bludger to me."

#####

Hermione groaned and passed a hand over her face. "Oh no, he's going to do something stupid, isn't he?" she asked and, as one, Susan and Daphne nodded.

"What makes her say that?" Neville asked, leaning close to Susan.

She turned to him and whispered in his ear, "he's angry. Not pissed off or furious, but definitely angry. He's also feeling a fierce kind of determination, like he wants to prove something."

At that moment the team shot into the air, just before Hooch reached them and a redhead knocked the bludger away for the last time. Harry shot by them and the girls could all feel an apologetic sensation flooding them as he passed on his way toward the commenters box where Professor McGonagall always did her best to curtail Jordan's more colorful commentary.

"Professor!" he yelled as he shot past, the bludger hot on his heels. She stood, ignoring Lee Jordan who had stopped commenting and turned the microphone in their direction as Harry looped around and made another pass. "Permission to never say never?" he called and she grabbed the microphone.

" **Permission granted, Lord Potter."**

The words echoed around the field, and while the vast majority of those watching had no clue what was going on, Harry grinned and his eyes hardened, focusing on a new goal while the girls groaned in the stands, leaving Neville staring at them in confusion.

With that, Harry led the bludger on a whirlwind chase through the sky. He dove on the Slytherin chasers, buzzed their keeper, and even succeeded in knocking one of their beaters off his broom from ten feet off the ground. All the while the bludger remained on his tail and the Gryffindor team slowly started to recover points with Fred and George no longer focusing on protecting their Seeker.

"What're you up to scar head?" Malfoy bellowed as he came in next to Harry and tried to shove the Gryffindor off course.

"Just looking to win, blondie!" Harry called back and suddenly dove for the ground. Half the crowd screamed as Harry dropped out of the sky, lying almost flat on his broom, eyes narrowed against the wind and the rain as the ground loomed closer and closer.

At the last instant he pulled up and felt his toes skim across the wet grass as, behind him, a dull 'whump' echoed through the air as the bludger slammed full force into the pitch. An instant later it'd pulled itself from the hole it'd dug into the ground and resumed pursuit.

Of course, that was when Harry made his first mistake. When he came out of the dive and headed back for the sky he caught a glimpse of Malfoy, hovering where Harry had first gone into his dive and there, right above his head and slightly to the left, hung the snitch, glinting dully in the overcast light.

WHAM.

In that moment of indecision, that second of surprise to see the snitch just hanging there, the bludger had caught up and slammed into Harry's left elbow. Pain blossomed brilliantly in the extremity as Harry felt the joint break and he bit back a scream. Below him he dimly heard three other voices raised in pain and fear and he had to fight to focus beyond the rush of emotions coming to him from the girls.

 _Not now,_ he thought. _Please, I need to focus._

The rush of emotions faded some, not entirely, but some and he opened his eyes just in time to swerve as the bludger streaked through the air just where his face had been a moment before.

He held onto the broom tightly with his right hand, left arm dangling uselessly at his side. Through a haze of pain, rain, and the muted wall of fear coming from the girls he shot into the air straight at Malfoy's sneering face.

The blond's eyes shot wide with fear and he dropped out of the sky, looking up just in time to see Harry's right hand close around the glimmering snitch and Lee Jordan screamed his head off into the microphone that Gryffindor had won. Harry potter caught the snitch!

And the bludger came back for another pass.

Heading toward the ground, Harry couldn't stop the scream that ripped from his lungs as the bludger smashed into his right ankle and a loud crack suddenly echoed through the air around him. The crowd fell silent save for a handful of voices screaming his name.

 _Come on Fred, George, anybody,_ he thought.

His head swung back and forth, searching in vain for any sign of the bludger as he reached the ground and landed awkwardly on one foot.

WHAM.

Just as he tried to lift his injured leg over the broom the bludger came flying in out of nowhere and slammed into the back of his right shoulder sending him spinning like a top to smash into the grass beneath him on his back. He groaned and opened his eyes to see the bludger dropping right toward his head just before blackness overtook him.

#####

"He should have been brought directly to me!" Madam Pomfrey raged while holding up the sad, limp remainder of what had once been a working arm. Harry was lying once again in one of the Hospital Wing beds with his girls, Neville, and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team huddled around the bed.

She glared at the team, who all took a giant step backwards to give them more room and to avoid the mediwitches wrath.

"What the hell happened?"

They turned their attention to Harry who was slowly opening his eyes and looking blearily around the room. "Awww… shite. Madam Pomfrey is gonna kill me."

"Not, just as yet, Lord Potter," the mediwitch answered with a huff. "But I am seriously beginning to consider putting a plaque on that bed and reserving it just for you!"

Half of the group laughed, a little warily, but it was still funny. Neville and the girls did not laugh. They knew just how accurate a statement that was and Neville was beginning to wonder just what damage was being done to the girls by Harry's frequent injuries.

"So what happened?" he asked as he tried to sit up but found that his left arm wouldn't move.

"Lockhart happened," Neville offered.

"From my scans, best I can determine, your left elbow and right ankle were broken by a hard blow from a blunt object, your right shoulder was dislocated, again, but your actual shoulder blade was shattered. The bone shards did quite a bit of damage to the surrounding muscles and tissue so in that respect at least he wasn't completely useless."

"He vanished the broken bones, didn't he?"

"Completely," Madam Pomfrey confirmed.

"Skele-gro?"

She nodded again and Harry sighed. "God I hate that stuff.

The team exchanged glances at that, confused expressions on their faces. When had Harry had experience with a bone regrowing potion? They wondered, but there was no answer forthcoming and when Harry looked in their direction the twins saw the walls come down. His face became expressionless and his eyes cold as he realized he had a larger audience then he'd originally thought.

"You _would_ be in a significant amount of pain right now if I hadn't managed to get a pain reliever down your throat while you were out, the damaged tissue around the shattered scapula would be bad and I'm going to have to leave the shoulder dislocated for the moment as well until after the scapula heals. I've been forced to use a few extra charms on you Lord Potter to ensure nothing causes any trouble while you're healing."

He tried to move again but found that he was stuck to the bed with what felt like a sticking charm. He couldn't move his right leg at all and could actually only move his left leg and his head.

"Is that why I can't move at all?" he asked, a tinge of fear in his voice.

"Yes, it is," she answered, her own voice and her expression filled with sympathy. "I understand how disconcerting and uncomfortable that has got to be but if you move too much you can really risk doing yourself greater damage.

"And no chance of a dreamless sleep, huh?"

She shook her head. "I am sorry, Lord Potter, but no. The two are not meant to be mixed. The consequences are unpredictable but none of the observed effects are good in any way." She turned to the small table sitting by the side of the bed and picked up a goblet, already filled with a steaming potion before she leaned over and tilted his head up to help him drink. "Down the hatch," she muttered softly and he obligingly gulped it down as quickly as he could, shuddering as it burned its way down his throat.

He gratefully took several long sips of water to wash the taste from his mouth and cool the burning in his throat and sighed when he was able to let his head fall back on the pillow.

"Now," Madam Pomfrey said, back to her stern and uncompromising persona as she turned to the rest of them. "You can all stay for a while, half an hour or so at most. Lord Potter is going to have a rough enough evening as it is so he'll be needing his rest. Miss Granger, Miss Greengrass, and Miss Bones, if I could speak to the three of you for a moment?"

Without waiting for an answer she turned and walked away to her office, leaving the girls looking after her with confused expressions etched across their faces.

"We'll be right back, Harry," Hermione told him and leaned down to kiss his cheek quickly, followed by the other girls as they followed after the mediwtich.

Harry didn't have enough time to become concerned over Madam Pomfrey asking to speak to them as he was immediately accosted by the rest of his team, still soaking wet from the rain and filthy as they crowded around his bed.

"Insane flying, Harry," Alicia Spinnet gushed, beaming at him with a wide smile on her face. "Absolutely barmy, but you got the job done, that was amazing."

The accolades continued with even the twins complimenting him on using the bludger to knock one of the Slytherin Beaters for a loop. They settled in around the bed discussing the match and the rogue bludger.

"It was insane," Twin one told him a minute before the girls returned. "Thing just wouldn't give up."

"What happened to it anyway? Last thing I remember it was coming right at my face."

"Greengrass," Angelina Johnson cut in. "That girl is fast with a wand and I've never seen a second year fire a reducto that powerful before. She hit it dead on ten feet above you and the damn thing blew apart. I think they'll be finding the pieces of it for years after that."

"Well, I couldn't very well let it hit him, could I?"

The group turned at the sound of the cold voice to find the three girls standing behind them, staring at the Harry on the bed who blanched at the combined looks of disapproval.

In moments the team had cleared out, quickly saying their goodbyes. While the males on the team looked terrified by the three frosty glares, the girls actually looked understanding, and while the looks they cast in his direction weren't filled with condemnation, they certainly didn't contain any sympathy for his plight.

"You have got to stop doing this to us, Harry," Hermione said after they'd settled themselves into seats on the left side of his bed with Neville taking up a chair on his right. "That really hurt, you know? We could feel every broken bone, remember?"

"I'm sorry," he said. "I swear I don't try to get hurt. I don't go looking for trouble."

"No, trouble just finds you."

Neville snorted. "It's more like you put out a full color ad in the prophet giving it your home address, Harry. I've never seen anyone attract more chaos then you seem to be able to do just by being around."

Harry would have shrugged but couldn't so he simply remained silent and Daphne glanced at her watch.

"We need to get going, they're serving dinner in the Great Hall about now and Madam Pomfrey should be along to kick us out any moment anyway." She stood and leaned over the bed, brushing Harry's fringe of hair out of his face so she could press a soft kiss to the scar above his eye. "I'll be back later. That's what Madam Pomfrey wanted to talk to us about. She offered to let one of us stay here with you tonight so that you're not left alone like this. She knows it could drive you crazy so I'll swing by the dorm after dinner and gather some things to bring with me and I'll see you in a while, okay?"

He nodded and quietly thanked her as she moved away, letting Susan and Hermione tell him goodnight.

"We'll see you tomorrow, Mate," Neville promise and Harry gave him a smile.

"Keep them safe for me, eh Nev?" he asked and Neville nodded seriously.

"Always, Harry. Try to get some rest."

Harry sighed and stared up at the ceiling as they made their way out of the Hospital Wing. "Rest," he muttered. "Right, like that's going to really be possible."

He closed his eyes and hoped, prayed for the ability to fall asleep but instead found himself staying awake as the stinging pain from the Skele-gro started and he waited for Daphne to return.

#####

"Neville?"

The boy in question turned his attention to Hermione as they made their way down toward the Great Hall.

"What is it, Hermione?" he asked curiously and she gave him a weak smile.

"I'm really, really sorry to ask this. But do you think you might be willing to go on ahead? The girls and I kind of have something we need to discuss."

Neville hesitated for a moment.

"Honestly, I'd prefer not to," he said and Hermione blinked, surprised to find the normally mild mannered boy denying her simple request. "I promised Harry I'd keep you all safe, and I aim to keep that promise. I know you're more than capable of taking care of yourselves, trust me, I've heard enough of that argument between the four of you already that I know better. But it's more about his peace of mind than it is anything else, right?" He cocked his head to the side slightly as he thought about it. "I mean, you and I know you don't _need_ me to protect you. I'm sure he knows it too. It just makes him feel better to think there's an extra wand watching your backs.

"So let's try a compromise. Why don't you three go ahead and I'll hang back? That way I can honestly tell Harry that I kept a careful watch over you and you get some space to have your private discussion."

They rolled their eyes, practically in unison, but agreed and hurried forward

They walked in silence for a moment, Hermione in the middle between Daphne and Susan before any of them spoke.

"'Not now'," Daphne said.

"'Please, I need to focus'," Susan added and Hermione nodded.

"That was Harry's voice. In our heads, he spoke to us."

"I don't think he did it on purpose."

"Is it something we bring up to him or do we wait and see if it happens again?"

"Would experimenting with it be a good or a bad idea?" Susan added to Hermione's question. "Is it like suppressing the bond? Something Madam Pomfrey would tell us not to do?"

"We _need_ that information from the goblins," Hermione growled. "I hate this. I hate not knowing. Not even a guess as to what we can expect or what we should or shouldn't do. I'm terrified to try anything for fear of ruining this," she added gesturing between herself and the other girls.

"I thought this bond was supposed to make things easier between us," Susan muttered and Daphne sighed on Hermione's other side.

"I'm going to talk to Harry, tonight," she said and the other girls turned to look at her as they walked. Out of the corner of her eye, Susan could see Neville still following along behind them far enough back that he wasn't intruding, but close enough that he could come to their aid if they needed him for any reason.

"About…" she trailed off and gave Hermione a significant look behind the bushy haired witches head and Daphne nodded.

"Hermione, you were right at the game. Something has been bothering me, but I haven't said anything because I didn't want to make anyone feel guilty especially over something that none of us really have any control over." She fell silent and Hermione just watched her, waiting as patiently as she could.

"Look, this growth you and Harry have experienced with the bond… it hurts, honestly, that Susan or I haven't experienced the same. And that's no ones fault as far as we know," she added when Hermione opened her mouth to protest. "It's not your fault, it's not Harry's fault… it _might_ honestly be my fault, and Susan's, come to think of it. I think… I think I might be holding back. There's a lot of pain in my life that I don't want to talk about, I understand Harry perfectly in that respect. But I'm beginning to think that reluctance might be part of what's keeping us this way.

"Harry and I had a night. Similar to what you described after you first shared his nightmare. That night when McGonagall asked to see him in her office last year and he disappeared for hours, remember?"

Hermione and Susan nodded.

"We forced you to bed, Hermione, since you were just making yourself sick, worrying. When he came in he and I talked for a while and I told him a little more about my life than I've ever told anyone. In the end, that really didn't amount to much at all. No details, no specifics." Daphne sniffed and was startled to realize that there were tears dripping down her cheeks. She barely held back a sob when Hermione suddenly wrapped her arms around her, bringing the three of them to a stop in the middle of the hall.

"I think that's what's most been bothering me," she admitted as she cried on the other girls shoulder. "I had a moment with him. I had that calm and quiet discussion and we learned more about each other than ever that night. So why haven't I grown into this bond? Did I do something wrong?"

She felt Susan join them as the redhead's arms wrapped around her as well but none of them said anything for a time, not until the tears slowed and Daphne was able to pull herself together again.

"I'm-"

"Don't you dare apologize for showing us the real Daphne Greengrass," Hermione hissed quietly, refusing to let the other girl go for a moment. "I don't understand it. It's been mentioned a couple of times now, this training pureblood girls get in some of the older families. I can't begin to understand it, it's so outside of what I know, being muggleborn. But it's obvious that the person everyone sees isn't really you. The person that you show is a result of that training and I, for one would really like to get to know the real Daphne Greengrass better."

Daphne sniffed again and wiped at her face, pulling back as much as the type grip the other girl had on her would allow. "Thank you," she whispered.

Hermione bit her lip and Daphne, averted her gaze, looking into Susan's deep blue eyes for a moment before their bond mate spoke again, "You're ours, Daphne," Hermione whispered. "We belong to you and you belong to us. I can't say sorry for the growth I've experienced. I can't apologize for something wonderful. But don't ever, _ever_ , for even a moment think that we're going to abandon you or that there's something wrong with you because you haven't grown into this as much as I have or Harry has. Madam Pomfrey said it'll be different for each of us, so please, try not to worry about it and just let it happen.

"You and Harry both have much worse things in your lives than Susan or I do. I think Harry only grew so close to us because we've all made that conscious effort to cut through his defenses. I don't think we've done the same for you, or for Susan, and for that I will say that I am very sorry. I don't ever want either of you to feel as if you're less important. You hold a part of my soul, Daphne, and you're just as important. I think maybe Harry's issues have kind of overshadowed some of our own, but we're going to work on that, okay?"

Daphne found herself almost overwhelmed by an insane urge as she'd turned her head to look into Hermione's cinnamon eyes as she spoke and for a moment she almost succumbed to it, but at the last second she gave herself a mental shake and nodded her head, giving her bond mate a watery smile and a quiet thank you.

Eventually, they parted, but kept in contact, their arms looped together as Hermione waved for Neville, who had stopped and waited patiently a distance away, to join them. Together, the four continued on their trip with the girls feeling much better overall, and Neville feeling that he'd made the right choice in giving them the space they needed while keeping a promise to his friend.


	24. Parseltongue Blues

**Author's Notes: Rotten Writer, here once again ladies and gentlemen. Not AS much serious progress in this chapter as I'd wanted but I felt that there was so much happening that I needed to break things up a bit, so as not to overwhelm. There's a lot of hinting at and setting up of future events here, some of which will be resolved next chapter and at least one won't really be addressed until possibly part way into the third year, we shall see.**

 **I can't honestly remember if I'd had anything else I wanted to say at the moment so I'll leave things at that other than, for my American readers, have a great Thanksgiving and I hope everyone stays safe this holiday.**

 **Actually, I just remembered. Some readers will note that I changed Daphne's mothers name in this chapter. I went back and adjusted it in the previous chapter where she's named as well since it was pointed out the original name I'd chosen belonged to Fleur's mother in the cannon. Ok, that is all.**

 **Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with it. Dammit.**

 **Here's Chapter 23 of Soul Scars. Enjoy.**

Soul Scars Part Two

Darkness Within

By,

Rtnwriter

November 1st dawned clear and bright after the previous evenings rains. Harry hadn't gotten much sleep and he and Daphne had a lot to tell the others as soon as he got out of there. He glanced over from his bed to the one three beds away from him where a set of privacy screens had been erected and did his level best to suppress a shudder at the memory from the previous night.

"Stop, Harry," Daphne whispered and he turned his head back in her direction where she was curled up in one of the chairs beside his bed, her arms wrapped around her legs with her chin resting on her knees, to see her cold blue eyes open, but filled with a warmth that had been missing from them for some time. A warmth he didn't see often but greatly enjoyed whenever it was present.

It had been an interesting evening, to say the least. He hadn't really noticed just how hurt she was by the growth he and Hermione were experiencing with their bond and he felt awful for not doing anything more to reassure her and Susan. Daphne had been firm though. She was adamant that if anyone could be said to be at fault in any way then that fault belonged with her and Susan rather than him or Hermione.

They weren't doing anything but what they were supposed to be, as far as they could tell. The bond was meant to grow over time and for those bonded to become closer as it did. It wasn't his fault and he shouldn't try to hold back from any of them out of fear of upsetting the others.

"We'll get there," she said when his attention was fully on her. "It'll take us time, but we'll get there. I'm starting to understand and accept that. It doesn't make it hurt any less but you shouldn't feel guilty about it." Her eyes flicked toward the privacy screens for a moment before moving back to him. "And stop thinking about that. We'll talk to the others about it, as soon as possible, but there's nothing to be done driving yourself crazy about it."

He nodded but said nothing as the sound of heels clicking against the floor drifted over to them and he turned back the other way just in time to see Madam Pomfrey come up to the bed, her wand already in hand.

"Well," she said. "Let's take a look at you." Her wand danced in her hand as she cast diagnostic charms at him, studying the results carefully as Daphne straightened out and sat up, stretching languidly in her seat. "Much better, Harry," she told him with a soft smile on her face. "That shoulder needs to be popped back into place, but after that, and after you eat, you should be okay to leave. I'll want you to use a cane for a bit today and that arm is going to be in a sling, but you're already aware of the procedure around a dislocated shoulder, aren't you?"

"I won't be stupid, this time," he promised. "I'll make sure to ask one of the girls to help with the bruise salve. I learned my lesson last time."

"Quite. Let's try not to make a dislocated shoulder a yearly occurrence, shall we?"

Harry offered her a grin as he felt the sticking charms dissipate but he remained still. "I can't make any promises. You know once it's been dislocated once it's easier for it to happen again."

She gave him a glare and huffed but said nothing and pointed her wand at his shoulder. "Deep breath and hold it…"

A moment later there was a loud, sickening pop as his shoulder was pushed back into the socket and he grunted in pain but still gave the Mediwitch a bright smile. A bout of nausea hit him and he moved quickly, his left arm swinging awkwardly with new bones and the stiffness of being immobile all night, but he was able to knock the trash bin next to his bed in Daphne's direction who grabbed it and leaned over, breathing hard and shuddering slightly.

"Oh, dear," Madam Pomfrey gasped. "I am so sorry, Miss Greengrass, I didn't even think…"

"It's okay," she interrupted and sat up, still looking a bit ill but her eyes were filled with determination. "I'm not good with medical things," she admitted. "But I guess I'll just have to get used to it with this idiot around."

Harry pouted and the two ladies shared a small laugh at his expression for a moment before Madam Pomfrey clapped her hands together sharply. "All right," she said. "I'll have an elf bring you both a tray and I expect you to eat every bit of it," she told Harry sternly. "After you're finished I'll want to give you a once over again then you can change and we'll get you fitted with a sling and a cane."

"Do I really need to use a cane?" he asked and she nodded firmly.

"Yes. For at least the day since that ankle will be a little awkward until you get used to it. You'll probably be able to do away with it by tomorrow but see how you're feeling and don't take any unnecessary risks. I really do not want to see you in here again before Sunday."

She patted his hand and bustled away, an elf popping in moments later with two trays piled with food. Harry ate somewhat awkwardly. His right arm hurt because of his shoulder, and his left was stiff and moved strangely with the new bones. It made for an entertaining meal for Daphne who did her best to distract him.

"We took a look outside that loo, last night," she told him and he gave her a stern look. "Yes, we went and looked without you. But Neville was with us as well and we weren't in any danger, it was on our way back to the tower after dinner so we stopped and looked around."

"I don't like you guys doing that," he muttered.

"I know you don't, but we're not helpless and we don't need you telling us what we can or cannot do," she told him, giving him an icy glare.

"I never said you did. I just don't like it. I worry about all of you, I can't help that."

"We know that, Harry. But we can't keep having this argument, so just let's agree to disagree on this and move on to what we found."

"You found something?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. It might be nothing. Around the loo itself, not much of interest. The message was cleaned away, obviously, and the floor outside was dry, no idea where that water came from that night. But we did notice spiders."

"Spiders?" He arched a brow at that in surprise, giving her a strange look at that. "What do spiders have to do with anything?"

"Again, maybe nothing. But there was a small gap in one of the windows, a broken piece, and there was a line of spiders going out of the castle through the window, like they were running away from something."

They discussed the arachnids strange behavior while they ate but neither of them could think of anything to explain it. Eventually, even with as slow as Harry was eating, they finished and Madam Pomfrey used a switching spell to change the hospital pajamas she'd put him in the night before with a clean set of clothes that Daphne had brought for him, a pair of black slacks and a deep red button down shirt with a simple black robe over it. For a moment he tried to get his boots on but stopped when Daphne stood and came around the bed, kneeling on the floor to help him.

There was something about the action, and her behavior, that struck Harry oddly, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Before he could think too long, however, she'd finished and stood, brushing down her skirt with her hands before offering him a hand up from the bed. It was a little awkward, Harry'd grown considerably from the year before and had started putting on more muscle with his almost daily exercising, but they managed, and Harry was slightly startled, once he was on his feet, to realize that he was easily four inches taller than her.

"When did I get so much taller than you?" he blurted out in his surprise and she just gave him a small smile.

"Those potions last year, good and plentiful food, and all your exercising has been good for you. You didn't really think we'd all stay the same height, did you?"

"No, of course not. I just… I guess I just hadn't noticed how much taller I was getting."

"I for one, am grateful for it, Harry," Madam Pomfrey said as she came over with a sling in one hand and a simple wooden cane in the other. "I can't begin to explain how good it feels to see you healthy after the state you were in when we first met," she added, giving him a small, sad smile.

She placed the items on the bed and cast her wand over him again, nodding at whatever information the spell told her before the handed him the cane. He took it in his left hand, forcing Daphne to move slightly away from him to give him room to maneuver as Madam Pomfrey placed his right arm in the sling.

"Now, you know how this works. Nothing strenuous for a while. Get someone to help you with the bruise salve, and you'll be using that cane at least for today but if you feel unsteady at all tomorrow I want you to keep using it. And while it is Sunday, I think we can hold off until next week for your usual appointment."

Harry and Daphne nodded and thanked her before she sent them on their way. The journey across the castle took longer than it normally would have. Harry was slowly getting used to using the cane, and Daphne was unable to help him, particularly, so she simply kept far enough away not to trip him up, but close enough to offer her help if he needed it. When she turned away from the hall that would lead them into Gryffindor tower he paused and gave her a confused look.

"The others said they'd meet us in the Room of Requirement this morning," she told him. "Hermione wanted to get started on the Polyjuice Potion so it would be ready by the break."

"Are we staying for the break?" he asked after shrugging his good shoulder and turning to follow her. "I thought we wanted to go home so we could see the goblins about the information they have on Soul Bonds."

"We do, but Hermione wanted to at least have it ready for when we come back. The potion will keep for several months after it's finished so we don't need to worry about using it right away."

He nodded, but said nothing, concentrating on walking instead. He was suddenly very glad for his exercise routine. It was difficult enough walking already, he didn't want to think how hard it would have been if he was still as out of shape as he'd been at the start of the summer.

When they finally reached the Room, Harry was sweating and a bit out of breath as Daphne opened the door. He followed her inside to find Hermione, Susan, Neville, Hannah, Tracey, and Blaise in a setting that reminded them of a cross between a potions lab and a generic common room, with nothing to indicate it belonging to any one house.

Hermione was sitting in an overstuffed armchair, a copy of _'Most Potente Potions'_ open on her lap and a sullen frown on her face. In fact, she was in such a poor mood that at first she didn't even register that they had entered the Room.

That all changed when Susan looked up from her discussion with Hannah and Tracey and blurted out, "Daphne! Harry! Oh, I'm so glad Madam Pomfrey let you go, how're you feeling?"

Harry gave her a grin as the others called out their own greetings and Hermione started so violently that her book tumbled off her lap to the floor as she jerked in their direction. "Feeling a bit tenderized, to be honest," he said in response to Susan's question as he worked his way across the room. He leaned his cane against Hermione's chair and leaned down to pick up her fallen book, handing it gently to her with a soft smile.

"Ha ha," Susan drawled. "Seriously, Harry, you were hurt pretty badly." Five of them decided not to mention that he wasn't hurt as badly as he'd been once before when he'd actually died.

"Stiff and sore, mostly. Really, Susan, I'm fine," he said after he collected his cane and moved to sit on a small sofa beside Hermione's chair. He reached out with his left hand after setting the cane down and took Hermione's hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Does someone want to tell us why Hermione is sulking?" Daphne asked after everyone had moved over to sit in a rough circle with the girls as close to Harry as they could get.

"I'm not sulking," Hermione grumbled under her breath and the rest of them, barring Harry and Daphne, laughed quietly at her sullen reaction.

"Hermione is just a touch put out," Susan told them. "Her big brain just tripped her up a little bit." She giggled when Hermione shot her a glare.

"Well, I guess not all of us can be as clever as Daphne or Harry," she said.

"I'm confused," Harry cut in after looking to Daphne to find her looking just as lost as he felt. "What clever thing did she try that didn't pan out?"

"It _would_ have worked," Hermione muttered and crossed her arms over her chest, a frown marring her features.

"No one is really disputing that, Hermione," Susan told her. "Just that there's a better, or less risky, way to do it."

"Hermione's Polyjuice plan," Neville offered, finally saving Daphne and Harry from their confusion as he explained. "We decided to use the room here to brew the potion and we ended up remembering a couple of things."

"Such as?" Daphne asked.

"Well, number one, we can access books from the restricted section of the Library in here-"

"So I went toadying up to Lockhart for that pass to the restricted section for absolutely no reason," Hermione burst out, disgust clearly coloring her tone.

"Right," Neville said with a nod, his lips twitching as he fought not to grin. "We also realized that we don't actually _need_ to sneak into the Slytherin common room to get any information from Malfoy."

Harry blinked and frowned as he tried to work out his friend's meaning. "All right," he said after a minutes thought. "I give up. What do you know that I'm forgetting?"

"We already know two people that currently live in the Slytherin dorms." Neville turned and looked over at a grinning Tracey and a smirking Blaise.

Harry blinked again as he realized their mistake and then groaned. "Well, don't I feel a bit foolish," he muttered.

"No more than I do," Daphne said, staring at Tracey with narrowed eyes. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"You've had other things on your mind," Tracey told her in a conciliatory manner.

"So you can find out what Malfoy knows about the Heir of Slytherin?" Harry asked.

Blaise shook his head, his smirk never falling. "I don't need to," he said. "Malfoy never shuts up, he's been going on and on about it since the night of the attack on Filch's cat."

Harry's eyes narrowed as he considered the other boy. "And will you tell us what he's been saying?" he asked, fairly certain that he already knew what the answer was going to be.

Blaise shook his head and Hermione growled irritably, glaring at the still smirking Slytherin.

"Why not?" Harry asked as the rest of the group simply watched the interaction between the two of them.

"Information is its own form of currency," Blaise said. "You want information that I have. If I am going to part with that information, then I would like something in return."

Harry frowned at that, not noticing how most of the others in the room exchanged a look and sat up straighter in their seats. "This information isn't really of much worth," Harry tried.

"It isn't of much worth to me," Blaise corrected him. "But to you it is certainly of much greater value," he pointed out with a significant look in Hermione's direction and Harry found himself frowning again.

It was true, enough. They didn't know, yet, about the second attack, and so far the victims all had something in common. Hermione was the only muggleborn in the room and potentially in the most danger out of the lot of them if the attacks continued.

"And that's why I think we should still go with the Polyjuice," Hermione muttered. "I will not be used as blackmail material against my friends."

Blaise shrugged, completely immune to her accusing tone and to the fierce glare she was leveling in his direction as his eyes never left Harry's.

"There are too many ways for a plan like that to go pear shaped," Tracey cut in. "It's better, and faster, to get the information safely from us."

"Us?" Harry pounced on the apparent slip. "So you have this information too?"

Tracey nodded.

"I suppose you want something for it as well?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm fairly content, at the moment."

"Then why can't you just tell us?"

"Because I've sworn not to," she admitted.

Harry scowled at that and turned his attention to Neville who was sitting with Hannah on a sofa to his right. The Longbottom scion looked completely calm and collected, as did Daphne, Harry noted. In fact, he realized after a casual scan of the room, only Hermione looked upset by Blaise's behavior.

Understanding finally sank in and Harry leaned back in his seat, letting out an explosive sigh as he did. "Damn," he muttered.

"Harry?" Hermione asked and he looked over at her.

"Hermione, why are you and I the only two people in the room that are remotely upset by this whole situation?" he asked and she started in surprise before she turned to study everyone else.

"I honestly don't know," she admitted after a few minutes thought.

Harry nodded absently, expecting just that answer. His brow was furrowed once again in thought as he attempted to puzzle out the situation. For more than a year now, Neville, along with Daphne and Susan, had been trying to teach him some of the finer points of wizarding culture. Daphne had stuck mostly to politics, while Neville and Susan had focused on business as well as making sure he understood as much as he could about the various old or influential families.

From what Harry remembered, Zabini had power and influence, and the Lady Zabini apparently scared a lot of people. But that didn't mean they were untouchable by any means, and even with only one living member, Potter was still a much more powerful family name.

 _Is this a test of some kind?_ He thought. _Why? Why now? What could he want?_

"Harry?"

Harry jumped and glanced at Hermione again, who was giving him a questioning look.

 _Shite,_ he thought. _I can't just stop and explain to her right now, not if this is what I think it is. This is gonna take some explanation._

He turned away, doing his best to ignore the feelings of hurt and rejection coming from his brilliant bond mate.

"Daphne?" he asked without taking his eyes off of Blaise again. Her response was immediate and confirmed for him what was going on.

"Yes, Lord Potter," Daphne said as she stood and moved over to take Hermione's hands, shushing the other girl when she made to protest. Daphne pulled her to her feet and led Hermione off to the side, close enough that they could hear and observe, but far enough that Daphne's whispered explanation wouldn't distract them.

"You've never cared much about house rivalries, so this demand has nothing to do with Slytherin and Gryffindor," Harry observed.

"No, Lord Potter, it does not," Blaise agreed, dark eyes giving away nothing of what he was feeling as he stared right into Harry's emerald gaze.

"You want something, but not from Harry Potter, or even the Boy-Who-Lived. This is a request of Lord Potter, Head of House Potter, isn't it?" he asked, wanting to be absolutely certain he had everything straight before moving forward.

"It is."

Harry did his best not to sigh in frustration or show any outward emotion. Daphne had made it very clear to him that, once word of his Lordship spread, there would be people that would want to meet or speak with him. He really hadn't expected something like this to happen so soon, though, and for the first to approach him to be a schoolmate. He determined he would do his best to remember his lessons, though, and sat up straighter in his seat, trying to project confidence and command as best he could with a cane by his left hand and his right arm in a sling.

"Is this a personal request from Blaise Zabini?" he asked and Blaise shook his head.

"I ask on House business, as Heir Zabini of House Zabini on behalf of my Head of House."

Harry managed not to wince. Invoking House business meant this could be serious. "No one here is held to family oaths," he pointed out.

"House Davis and House Zabini have long been friends, if not in any formal alliance," Blaise said. "And all of the old families know of the alliance between House Longbottom and House Potter. House Bones and House Greengrass have their own goals and reputations, but it is clear they are close to you," he added with a gesture toward Susan and Daphne. "Granger has no House affiliation, and I trust that you, Lord Potter, will impress upon her the seriousness of this matter. If you trust them not to speak of my request, then I will, of course, bow to your superior knowledge of them."

"I trust them," Harry spoke evenly. "The only ones I'm questioning right now are you and Tracey." Harry could feel Daphne's hurt at his words, but he couldn't tell if it was because he didn't trust her best friend, or because Tracey seemed to have earned that lack of trust through her own actions.

"That is completely understandable, Lord Potter."

"Since we're agreed that everyone present may remain, please, get on with your request," Harry ordered, gesturing toward Blaise with his good hand.

"Agreed." Blaise drew himself up in his seat and when he spoke, he did so with a tone of practiced formality that reminded him of the way Amelia had spoken when she made her formal request to be his guardian.

"Lord Harry James Potter," he said. "I, Heir Blaise Edward Zabini, bring a message from my mother and Head of House, the Lady Valerie Teressa Zabini. She requests that you agree to meet with her at our home at some time during the upcoming Christmas break. She wishes to discuss something with you, in person, and will, of course, extend House Hospitality toward you and one other guest of your choosing. What say you to my request, Lord Potter?"

A heavy silence fell over the room as all eyes turned toward Harry who was carefully considering the request. Some of what Blaise had said, Harry didn't fully understand but to ask for clarification would make him appear weak, and that was something the Lord of a Most Ancient and Noble house could not afford. Since the request was made to him, he knew that he could dictate the day and time and if the Lady Zabini really wanted to meet with him then she would arrange her schedule to meet his demanded meeting time.

"Heir Zabini, I, Lord Harry James Potter, will agree to meet with the Lady Zabini on the 27th of December at eleven in the morning. To be clear, I am agreeing only to hear her out. If I do not like what I hear, I will not be staying for long, am I understood, Heir Zabini?"

"Completely, Lord Potter," Blaise said, bowing from his seat. Harry returned the bow with a slight nod of his head as the higher ranked of the two. "I would also like to add my personal thanks."

Harry glared at the other boy. "Noted," he growled. "Now tell us what you know and then leave."

"I really wish there was more to tell, but honestly, Malfoy is as clueless as everyone else in the castle."

Harry blinked. "What?" he blurted out.

Blaise shrugged. "Since Halloween night, he's been going on how he wishes he knew who the Heir was because if he did he would do everything he could to help."

"And there's no way he's lying?" Susan asked.

"No way," Tracey said. "Malfoy has always been a braggart. If he was the Heir he'd be crowing about it. I honestly have no idea how he got into Slytherin, he has no cunning or guile at all."

They considered that for a minute before Harry finally sighed. He wished they'd learned more, but at least they knew now and could avoid wasting at least two months plotting and brewing Polyjuice in order to get the same information.

"If that is all you have to say, then it is time for you to leave, and I don't imagine that we'll be seeing much of each other until the meeting with your mother." The message was clear. Blaise was no longer welcome as far as Harry was concerned.

"I understand, Lord Potter." Blaise stood and bowed once again before he turned and calmly left the Room of Requirement. When Tracey stood to follow him she gave them an apologetic smile.

"I know that seemed bad, but he really is a friend, Harry."

"Friends don't blackmail you for favors."

"No, they don't. But there were good reasons for what he did." With that she left, leaving the rest of them to think over what had just happened.

"So does anyone want to tell me what that was all about?" Hermione snapped irritably after she and Daphne had moved back over to sit with the rest of them.

"I'll let them take care of that," Hannah said as she stood and brushed down her skirt. "I've got some homework to finish and I think the more voices, the more confusing things could get. I'll see you all at lunch?"

The majority of them nodded as she moved over and hugged Susan before she left as well, leaving just the bonded quartet and Neville behind as the room shifted around them returning to a miniature version of the Gryffindor Common room with their usual seating and fireplace there to warm them.

"What exactly is it that you want explained, Hermione?" Neville asked, kicking off the discussion after they'd all moved to their usual seats. Hermione sat between the other girls while Harry and Neville occupied armchairs facing their sofa with the low table in between them.

Hermione chewed on her lower lip as she thought it all over. "I just don't understand what was going on there. What was Blaise doing? Why didn't the rest of you have an issue with him basically blackmailing Harry for useless information?"

"It's not useless," Harry pointed out. "At the very least we know not to waste time trying to find out what Malfoy knows. That will allow us to focus elsewhere."

"Okay, I can agree with that, but why did you ignore me, Harry?" she asked and he again felt a wave of hurt flowing from her.

"I didn't want to, and I didn't mean to, Hermione, I promise. But Blaise was initiating a formal situation there, and I didn't really have a choice in the matter."

"Why not?"

"Because women have no place in House business," Daphne spat. Neville and Harry both flinched and she took a deep breath to calm herself and when she spoke again she was careful to moderate her tone. "Zabini is an old family. Old families basically rule our society, and of course the Heads of those families are almost entirely male. Many of them have clauses that girls can't actually become Head of House, only a male heir can take on the title."

"That's…" Hermione trailed off.

"Disgusting and sexist?" Harry offered. "Absolutely it is, but wizarding society is patriarchal. I think it's stupid but I can't do anything about that, at least not right now. When in a formal discussion like that it is expected that only the men will be talking and if you'd interrupted Blaise might have expected me to shoot you down or reprimand you somehow. Of course I wouldn't do that but if I didn't that would get back to his mother, who would be working on learning everything she can about me for this meeting she wants."

"I'll give you a crash course tonight, Hermione, it's not all that important right this minute," Daphne offered and turned her attention back to Harry. "You felt a little confused during his request, what part didn't you completely understand?" she asked.

"Two things. One, the bit about House Hospitality. What did that mean?"

"I'll take this one," Neville said and leaned forward as Harry turned to him. "House Hospitality means that, while you are there, in their home, you are offered the protection of their House. If anything were to happen to you, in any way, their House could be held responsible. By extending House Hospitality, he's reassuring you that you will be safe while meeting with the Lady Zabini."

Harry nodded. "Okay, that makes sense, I guess. Second thing, then, why did he go through all that? Why didn't the Lady Zabini simply send me an owl requesting a meeting?"

"And we're back to the Patriarchal nature of our society," Daphne muttered. "Lady Zabini is… an aberration in our society. Almost like Madam Bones as a Ministry Department Head in an extremely male dominated field. The Lady Zabini is actually forbidden from directly contacting male Heads of House. Doing so would be considered rude, at best. So, she usually has to make contact through a male to carry her message. Also, in this case, they don't know you. For all she knows you would deny any request to meet. So I'm fairly certain she asked Blaise to use any opportunity to force agreeing to at least a meeting from you since if you said no she wouldn't have much other recourse to contact you in your capacity as Lord Potter. She has to work much harder and jump through a lot more hoops than a man in her same position would have to, simply to request a meeting."

Hermione was muttering darkly to herself but they mostly ignored her. They all felt as she did, but there wasn't a lot they could do right at that moment, so kept their focus on more immediate matters.

"So it's possible Blaise could still be serious about wanting to be a friend, he just had to do the best he could under House orders?" Harry asked and Daphne and Susan nodded.

"That's what it seems like. I very seriously doubt that Blaise would have really kept from telling us what Malfoy'd said, but he needed a bargaining chip in order to have some kind of assurances."

"I still don't like it," Harry muttered.

"No one says you need to like it, just… just don't completely write Blaise off, yet, okay?" Neville asked and Harry grudgingly nodded after giving it a bit of consideration. He would try, but Blaise was going to have to go above and beyond if he ever wanted Harry to trust him, or consider him a friend.

"I have to say, I'm proud of you, Harry," Daphne said a moment later. "You handled that all very well for how little time you've had to learn the etiquette involved with such a situation."

"Thank you," he said, giving her a weak smile. "Still not sure I'll ever get used to this stuff, but it's good to know that I didn't embarrass myself, at least."

"Far from it," Neville assured him. "You did great."

Harry's smile became a bit more confident and he nodded to Neville before glancing at Daphne.

"Before that whole thing kicked off, we had some information for you guys that we found out last night."

Neville, Susan, and Hermione shared a look. "Why don't I feel like this is good news?" Susan asked.

"Not all of it is bad, some of it is fairly neutral." The three of them groaned but motioned for him to continue.

"Remember us telling you about Dobby?" Harry asked and Neville nodded, thinking back to their discussion on the train at the start of the year. "Well, turns out he was the one that charmed the bludger yesterday."

"Is he _trying_ to kill you?" Neville blurted out while Hermione and Susan simply stared at him in shock.

"Not according to him," Daphne said, taking up the story. "Apparently, he was hoping that Harry would be hurt badly enough that he would need to be sent home."

"Little bugger is crazy," Susan muttered.

"That's not all, either. He was also responsible for the barrier closing at Kings Cross. He _really_ doesn't want me to be here at Hogwarts."

"Not that I can blame him for wanting you to be safe," Hermione mused thoughtfully, "but if he keeps trying to 'save' you, he might actually kill you!"

"How did you two figure all this out, anyway?" Susan asked.

"Oh, he came into the Hospital Wing last night," Harry told her. "Woke me up when he started wiping my forehead with a damp cloth."

"And Harry yelling in surprise woke me up," Daphne added. "We got him talking a bit and he let enough slip that we were able to piece it together."

"So the Chamber being opened, that was what he was warning us about, for sure?"

"Seems so, Susan. We still couldn't get any real details out of him, though."

"Yes, he ran off before we could really try though," Daphne admitted. With that said, she went on to fill them in on just why the little elf had run off so quickly.

"Colin Creevey was petrified too?" Hermione's eyes were wide, her knuckles white as she clenched her fists in her lap.

"Completely," Harry confirmed with a nod. "He had his camera up and when the Headmaster opened it this puff of smoke came out. The film had been melted by whatever it was that attacked him."

They all considered that and eventually had to admit that it really didn't tell them much in the long run.

"When word gets out that a student was attacked, won't there be a panic?" Hermione asked, almost hopefully, only to subside when Neville sadly shook his head.

"Creevey is muggleborn," he pointed out. "Most of the people in charge will claim that they're concerned and that they'll do everything in their power to get to the bottom of things, but unless a pureblood is attacked the won't really do much of anything."

Harry scowled at that but nodded and said what they were all thinking. "Looks like we're on our own, again."

#####

It only took a day for Harry to discard the cane, and over the next week and a half Daphne and Susan took turns helping him with the bruise salve. The day after Colin was attacked, Harry sent off a letter to Amelia telling her about Dobby and the attack itself.

She was absolutely livid that not one word had come from Hogwarts through any official channels, and without that, her hands were effectively tied. She cautioned them again to be extremely careful and practically begged Harry in her return letter not to do anything rash.

"She really acts like I go looking for trouble," Harry complained as they all read the letter at the breakfast table that morning.

"We're not having that discussion again," Neville muttered, a light grin twitching around his lips and he ducked when Harry threw a raisin at him.

Harry became grateful for Blaise telling them about Malfoy, though he'd never admit it. With continued homework, Quidditch practice amped up to account for the time missed while Harry was recovering from his injuries, their continued morning spell practice and his exercises which he started up again as soon as Madam Pomfrey cleared him to do so, along with his Friday meetings with Healer Gant, well, Harry was sure there would have been no time to try and brew a batch of Polyjuice.

Thus, by the second week of December when Professor McGonagall made her way around the castle with the list of students that would be staying and who would be going home for the holidays, it was with a sense of great relief that Harry and the rest signed their names for going home. Harry couldn't wait to experience another Christmas at the Boneyard, only this time as an official member of the family.

A week later saw the five of them hurrying down to the Great Hall at eight o'clock in the evening for a dueling club that had been announced before dinner.

"Think Professor Flitwick will be running things?" Harry asked as the waited in the packed hall with what looked like every single student in the school. The long dining tables had vanished only to be replaced by a large golden stage that stood along one wall. The ceiling above was a velvety black and the whole scene was lit by the light of a thousand floating candles. The faces around them all looked eager and excited and harry couldn't help but feel a little thrill himself, wondering how well his extra practice might serve him in a real duel.

"That would make sense," Hermione said. "Professor Flitwick _is_ extremely knowledgeable and he's been a huge help during our practice sessions. I think I'll finally get that siege engine spell down in the next couple of days."

"I don't care who is running is as long as it's not-" Daphne began only to trail off into a groan as Gilderoy Lockhart walked onto the stage, resplendent in robes of a deep plum and accompanied by Snape, dressed in his customary black. Harry felt the Potions Master looked even more surly than ever, and that was really some achievement considering the mans usual disposition.

Harry tuned out as much of Lockhart's posturing drivel as he could but actually broke into a cheer, along with about half the other students in the hall when Snape sent the peacock tumbling arse over tea kettle in one direction while his wand went flying into the crowd.

Lavender Brown returned his wand, tittering when he smiled at her, which had Susan, Hermione, and Daphne rolling their eyes. "How can none of them figure out how awful he is?" Hermione hissed, glaring angrily at the now far more disheveled wizard.

In less than a minute after Lockhart had his wand back in hand, they found themselves being broken up into pairs and Harry realized that he was looking into the cold grey gaze of Draco Malfoy.

"All right," Lockhart called out. "On my count of three, cast your charms to Disarm your opponents- _only_ to disarm them, we don't want any accidents."

After a pause Lockhart counted off and Harry quickly stepped to the side as Malfoy started casting on "two". The spell whizzed by Harry, missing by inches as his own wand came up.

"Flipendo! Expelliarmus!"

The time practicing on the firing range proved its worth as both spells struck true. The knock back jinx sent Malfoy stumbling backwards, and as his arms were waving around in an effort to keep his balance, he was struck in the chest by the disarming charm and was sent flipping through the air to land on the stage with a crunch,

Harry looked around, pleased to see that Neville and the girls all had kept hold of their wands as Snape shouted, "Finite Incantatem!" dispelling many of the curses, hexes, and jinxes that had, moments before, been flying thick and fast through the air.

As he passed by, Snape gave Harry a considering look, dark eyes glittering with some indecipherable emotion.

"I think I'd better teach you to _block_ unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. "Let's have a volunteer pair-"

"Might I recommend Malfoy and Potter?" Snape said, cutting off whatever Lockhart had been about to suggest.

"Excellent idea," Lockhart practically cheered and Harry rolled his eyes. He gestured for Harry and Malfoy to move into the middle of the hall as the crowd moved to give them room.

While Harry ignored Lockhart making a fool of himself, he kept his eyes on Malfoy as Snape moved closer to his student, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. His eyes narrowed when Malfoy suddenly smirked, a far cry from the flushed and angry expression he'd worn after Harry knocked him for a loop.

The crowd fell silent as they took their positions and raised their wands.

"Scared, Potter?" Malfoy muttered and Harry simply scoffed and smirked at the other boy which brought a little color to Malfoy's cheeks as he flushed and glared angrily.

"There… two… one… go!" Lockhart shouted.

Malfoy quickly lifted his wand and bellowed, "Serpensortia!"

The end of his wand seemed to explode and Harry watched, shocked, as a nearly seven foot long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily to the floor between them, and raised itself, hissing angrily and ready to strike anyone that came near. There were screams echoing around him as the surrounding students scrambled to back up even more.

"Stay very still, Potter," Snape said, lazily. He was clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing there, motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it."

"Allow me!" Lockhart shouted and Harry turned to him as he flourished his wand.

"No-" he tried to yell, but it was too late. There was a loud bang and the snake, instead of vanishing, was thrown ten feet through the air where it landed with a loud smack on the floor, right in front of a terrified Justin Fin-Fletchley. The snake raised itself again, fangs exposed to strike, when Harry's body moved almost without input from his brain. The next thing he realized, he was shouting at the snake.

 _§Ssstop!§_ he bellowed. _§Leave him alone!§_

The snake whipped around, startled, and locked eyes with Harry. _§You ssspeak?§_ it hissed, sounding astonished.

Harry shrugged. _§I guess ssso. I've only ever talked to one sssnake before.§_ He motioned with one hand for the snake to approach. _§Come here, pleassse, and don't bite anyone.§_

 _§I am upssset,§_ the snake hissed as it slithered quickly toward him.

 _§Well, I can underssstand that,§_ he told it as he leaned down and let the creature climb up his arm. _§I'd be annoyed too if sssomeone blasssted me ten feet through the air like that. Are you hurt?§_

 _§I am unharmed, but it isss cold here. I do not like the cold.§_

 _§Let me sssee if I can get sssomeone to sssend you back where you belong.§_

He looked up, the snake now draped across his shoulders as it hissed in his ear and gingerly approached Snape.

"Professor?" he asked as politely as he could. "Could you please send him back where he came from?"

Harry ignored the dumbfounded expression on Snape's face as the man waved his wand and the snakes weight suddenly vanished from his shoulders in a small puff of black smoke.

"What do you think you're playing at?"

Harry turned, startled by the shout to find Justin glaring furiously at him an instant before he turned and stormed out of the hall.

Harry blinked and looked around at the sea of faces, nearly all of them staring at him with a mixture of fear and anger.

"What'd I do?"

#####

Harry stood by the fire in the Gryffindor common room, frowning and stroking the scar behind his jaw.

"So you're seriously telling me, that, just because I can talk to snakes, everyone is going to be convinced that I'm the damn Heir of Slytherin?" he asked, just for clarification.

Neville nodded, his eyes a little wild, still. "Afraid so," he said. "Slytherin himself was a well known Parselmouth, and throughout history, just about every known Parselmouth has been Dark."

Harry groaned and threw himself into his chair. "What'd I tell you?" he muttered. "Guilty until proven innocent." He paused and peered at Neville. "You don't think I'm-"

"Not on a bet, Harry," Neville cut him off. "I know you too well. There's no way you'd ever go dark, and you especially wouldn't be attacking muggleborns." He gestured to Hermione where she sat between Susan and Daphne. "One of your best friends is muggleborn. Anyone that could believe you'd do anything like that is an idiot."

Harry smiled at his friend's support, grateful for Neville's continued friendship, and turned his attention to the girls. "Are you three all right?" he asked, confused by what they were feeling.

They all blinked, as if startled from a daze and their eyes focused on him. "Oh, we're okay," Susan said as she seemed to give herself a mental shake. "Just a little confused."

"Why?" he asked.

"Harry, we could understand every word you and the snake were saying," Daphne tried to explain.

"Okay?" He was getting more confused by the moment, himself, and didn't see why this was a cause for concern. "I wasn't trying to be quiet, I'm sure everyone heard me."

"Oh, we heard you, all right. Which is why people were freaked." Neville shuddered and Harry gave him a sideways glance.

"Huh?"

Hermione almost smiled, but did her best to explain. "Harry, Parseltongue is its own language. You weren't speaking English back there."

"Wait, what?"

"Really, mate. It was these really creepy hissing noises."

Harry just gaped at Neville, his mouth hanging open.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" he burst out. "So, no one heard me telling the snake to leave Justin alone and to not bite anyone?"

"We did," Daphne said, "But I know I'm not a Parselmouth, Daddy checked when I was ten."

"We've never talked to a snake before, either," Susan spoke up for herself and Hermione. "But when you and that snake spoke, we could hear the hissing, but we also heard it in English."

Harry sighed and slumped lower in his seat. "Something else to tell Madam Pomfrey?" he asked, and they nodded in unison.

"It's getting late," Daphne said after several minutes of silence. "We should get to bed."

"I think I'll stay here and sulk a while longer. Maybe 'till the rest of the guys are asleep at least. I'd rather not deal with Ron glaring at me any more than I absolutely have to."

Susan walked over and pulled him out of his chair and into a hug. "Don't stay up too late, okay?" she asked and he nodded as he breathed in her calming scent.

"I'll try," he promised.

"We can go with you tomorrow to talk to Justin," Hermione offered as she hugged him as well. "I'm sure if you explain it, he'll understand."

"Hope so."

After Hermione moved away, Daphne hugged him, but said nothing, only offering a warm smile and her silent support before she stepped away and the three of them headed upstairs.

Neville put a hand on Harry's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I'm not going to hug you," he said, and Harry barked out a short laugh. "Just remember, I'm with you, always."

"Thanks, Nev. See you in the morning."

"G'night, Mate."

Once Neville was gone Harry sank back into his chair with a tired sigh and stared into the fireplace, the dancing flames reflected in his eyes as he spent the next several hours considering the newest complication in his life.

#####

On December 22nd, Amelia stood on Platform nine and three-quarters, waiting for the train to arrive with the Grangers and Madam Longbottom standing with her. She'd already talked with them on what they all knew about the situation at Hogwarts and none of them were in the least bit happy about it.

Moods picked up, however, when the train pulled in and came to a stop amidst a cloud of steam. The doors opened and chattering children came pouring out onto the platform.

It was readily apparent when their kids stepped out as the other students immediately gave them a wide berth, leaving the five second years standing in a wide, clear circle as they made their way across the platform.

"That doesn't look promising," Dan muttered, noting the dark scowl on Harry's face and the way that Neville and the girls were shooting him concerned looks.

"No," Amelia agreed with his assessment. "No, it doesn't." She smiled and opened her arms as Susan ran up and threw her own arms around her aunt, squeezing particularly tightly. "Hey, Susie," she muttered to the girl as, around them, Hermione was greeting her parents and Neville was telling his grandmother how good it was to see her. "I've missed you," she said.

"Missed you too, auntie.," Susan mumbled, her voice muffled against her aunt's stomach.

Harry stood a bit off to the side, giving Susan and her aunt some space.

"Daphne, come, we need to get going. Your father is waiting for us."

Harry turned at the sound of the new voice to find Danyella Greengrass standing nearby, looking as impeccably dressed as the last time Harry had seen her.

Daphne nodded. "Coming, Mother," she said. "I will meet you all tomorrow at Gringotts," she added to them before she calmly walked over to her mother and took hold of her arm. A moment later they both vanished with a loud crack.

If he could have frowned any more than he already was, Harry would have done so. Daphne had felt… apprehensive when she heard her mothers voice. He didn't like that.

By the time he turned back to the rest of the group it was just in time to catch Hermione as she crashed into him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his middle for a moment before she pulled back and looked at him.

"It'll get better," she insisted and he nodded, but kept silent. He really didn't trust himself to speak.

In minutes, Hermione and her parents had disappeared through the barrier and Neville and his gran had made their way over to the Floo.

"Rough time?" Amelia asked as she stepped up and pulled him into a hug.

He shrugged. "Can we just go?" he asked, gruffly and she pulled back, eyeing him carefully.

"Well, it's easy enough to see that you're in a foul mood," she said. "But that's no reason to take it out on me."

She watched as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath that he held for a few seconds before slowly letting it out. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I'm just so tired of being stared at."

She rubbed his shoulders and gave him an encouraging smile. "It's okay. Come on." She led them over to the Floo and let Susan head off to the Boneyard before she took Harry by the arm and apparated them both to the Floo access room where Susan was waiting for them.

Without a word, Harry walked away, his head down and his shoulders slumped, as if a heavy weight rested on them.

"All right," Amelia said, turning to her niece. "Just what is going on?"

Susan sighed and tried to explain. "Well, the other day there was a dueling club," she started as they walked toward the sitting room. She quickly explained everything that happened and by the time she finished Amelia was forced to lean back in her seat and blow out an exasperated breath.

"Well," she said, "no wonder he's so upset."

Susan winced. "If only that was all there was to it," she moaned.

"Really? There's more?"

"And worse."

"Bloody wonderful. Well, go on then, let's get it all out on the table."

"Yesterday, Harry wanted to talk to Justin, explain to him that he was telling the snake to back off. We were going to talk to him during Herbology so the girls and I could back him up. Not sure how we thought we were going to explain how we could understand Parseltongue even though none of us can speak it, but we were going to try."

"He didn't listen?"

"We never got the chance. Herbology was canceled because of a heavy snow fall during the night. So we went looking for him. We found a table full of 'Puffs in the Library and went over to talk to the, see if they knew where Justin was." She paused and took a sip of the butter beer Binky had brought for her when they first sat down.

"Just as we were getting close we could hear them talking, and Harry stops to listen because they mentioned him." She paused again, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Oh, they were just awful!" she cried. "Ernie Macmillan kept going on how He'd told Justin to hid in their dorm since Harry had obviously picked him as his 'next target'.

"Hannah was there and she tried to defend him but Ernie went on about how Voldemort tried to kill him. Said only a really powerful dark wizard could have survived the killing curse and that was probably why he tried to kill Harry in the first place. Said he didn't want competition," she sneered the last word in a disgusted tone.

"That was about when I got fed up and walked up to their table."

They looked up to find Harry standing in the doorway, green gaze seeming to pierce them both and Amelia almost forgot how to breathe for a moment as an oppressive weight seemed to settle on the room from his barely contained power.

"Sorry to interrupt," he whispered. "I felt how upset Susan was getting and…" He trailed off and shrugged.

"Please, come sit, Harry."

He stepped the rest of the way into the room and sat on the love seat beside Susan as a butter beer appeared on the table in front of him.

"Earnie went blustering on about the Quidditch match last year," Harry said as he opened the bottle and took up the story where Susan had left off. He took one of her hands in his and held it gently as he spoke. "Said I'd shown my rue colors back then."

"He wouldn't listen to any explanation, just kept insisting that Harry had been trying to chase the snake toward Justin."

"And after arguing with the idiot for a few minutes U was going to lose my temper, so I stormed out of there."

Amelia thought carefully. "I'm not trying to make light of any of this," she said. "But none of that seems to explain how hard this has all hit you."

Harry snorted and nodded his head, taking a pull on his drink before setting it down on the table in front of him. "If that had been all there was, it wouldn't really still be bothering me," he admitted. "But what happened next just made things a hundred times worse. Since Herbology was canceled, we were in a free period but Transfiguration was next so I started back to the tower to get my books. Ran into Hagrid on the way and talked to him for a minute, something about some chickens," Harry shrugged. "Honestly I wasn't really listening too closely, I was still upset about Ernie. So, after I left Hagrid I went up stairs, turned down a corridor and it was darker than usual, a bunch of the torches has been blown out.

"About half way down I tripped over something and went sprawling on the floor and when I finally got up and looked I realized I'd tripped over Justin Finch-Fletchley. He was lying on the floor, stiff as a board, and Nearly Headless Nick was next to him but he looked all black and smokey."

Amelia groaned. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me," she muttered.

"I really wish I was," Harry growled. "I was just trying to decide if I should run or something when Peeves comes around the corner, sees what's on the floor, and goes tearing off screaming through the halls about another attack and no mortal or ghost is safe. Course, that brought students out of all the classes and there I am, standing with another petrified student right there on the floor.

"After everyone got a good look the teachers finally took Justin and Nick out of there and McGonagall took me off to see Dumbledore."

"Where were you and the girls?" Amelia asked. "Not blaming you, I'm just wondering what happened."

"We'd stayed behind when Harry left to tear into Ernie. When we heard Peeves screaming through the halls we all ran out of there. Of course, Ernie had to go yelling about Harry being caught in the act as soon as he got there. I swear I almost hexed the little idiot," she grumbled and Amelia smiled, just slightly, at her niece's ire.

"I'd have been tempted too," she admitted.

"Yeah, well things have just been downhill since," Harry said. "Practically everyone in the school is convinced I'm the one attacking students."

Amelia sighed and looked at the two of them, noting that Harry had yet to let go of Susan's hand during the entire story. They looked tired, she decided. Drawn and worn, and she really couldn't blame them after the tumultuous first term they'd already experienced.

"All right," she said, drawing their attention back to her. "Tomorrow is going to be a long day. Why don't you two head for the kitchen? Binky has dinner ready, and after you eat, you should probably turn in." She stood and drew Harry to his feet. "It's going to be okay, Harry. I promise you that. This will blow over eventually, and we'll figure it out as we go. Right now, though, this is the holidays. So take tonight to try to rest and tomorrow we'll put this all out of our minds and worry about trying to have a pleasant break with our family and our friends."

He nodded, resignedly and then he and Susan left and headed for the kitchen.

Behind them Amelia's face twisted into an expression of anger and she strode for the Floo. There had been a third attack and a second student petrified by an unknown assailant inside the school that was so often touted as the 'safest place in the world'. And, yet again, not a single word from Hogwarts to her department about it from Dumbledore. It was far past time for her to light a fire under a certain meddlesome old bastards arse.

#####

She knew she wasn't supposed to do it. Madam Pomfrey had been very clear on that point. But she did it anyway, sure that she really didn't have much choice in the matter. She couldn't let them feel what this meeting was going to do to her. She couldn't let them feel her fear. Feel her anger and the hatred she held for the man in front of her.

Ice blue eyes stared into ice blue eyes as Daphne pushed down on the link to her bond mates, she suppressed it so they wouldn't be able to sense her emotions, not until she got them back under control. She stepped into her father's study, closing the door carefully behind her before she moved across the room and sank into a simple, uncomfortable chair set before his large, imposing desk.

"You wanted to speak to me, Father?" she asked, her legs crossed primly at the ankles beneath her long skirt and her hands folded carefully in her lap, back ramrod straight and her chin held high.

Cyril Greengrass was as cold as his eyes, showing no emotion whatsoever as he stared into the eyes that so mirrored his own.

"I have had… disturbing reports given to me," he said, his deep voice seeming to fill the room.

Daphne said nothing. He hadn't asked a question, and she had long ago learned not to respond to an open ended statement like that. That was the easiest way to give away information that you didn't want to accidentally part with. When he asked something directly, she would answer.

"I should have a betrothal contract on my desk, Daughter," he hissed. "Why do I not have it?"

"Lord Potter is just twelve-years-old," she started, only to be cut off by an impatient gesture from the man.

"That means nothing," he insisted. "He is the Head of a Most Ancient and Noble House and tying our house to his would see us moving up in the world. The Potter Fortune eclipses our own wealth by several magnitudes, but more importantly is the family magic. The Potters are well known for their unique magic."

"I am already bonded to the Lord Potter," she reminded him, doing her best not to sound annoyed with the man. "It is only a matter of time."

"Time is something we do not have!" he roared and she flinched in her seat. "The Greengrass holdings are not what they once were, Daughter. If I do not see progress, I will have no choice but to offer your contract to someone else."

"You can't!" she blurted out before she could stop herself, fear shooting through her. She was _bonded_ to three other people, did he not understand that? Did he not care what that would do to them, to her?

He surged to his feet, a leviathan rising from the depths as he towered over her and leaned over his desk, palms flat on its hard surface. "I am Lord Greengrass! I am Head of this House and as such I can do whatever I please, do you understand me?"

Daphne cursed, mentally, as she was unable to hide the shiver of fear that ran through her body. "Yes, Father," she whispered, closing her eyes against the tears that threatened to well up. "Forgive me, I misspoke."

"Yes, you did."

He sank back into his seat and eyed her coldly from across his desk.

"I am aware of your… _sickness_." He spoke the last word with such disgust, such complete and utter loathing that the words hung in the air like a physical presence. "If you cannot overcome it, then I will see to it that you are shipped off to someone else so it can be their problem. Maybe your sister can then do what you are obviously not capable of."

"No, Father. I swear, I am capable. I promise you. Lord Potter… he is unsure, and young. The future is far from his mind at this time and it would be a mistake for me to try to push him too far, too fast." She hated this. Daphne Greengrass did _not_ beg. But there she was, pleading for something she didn't even want, something that had once turned her stomach just at the thought of it.

Her father regarded her coldly for several minutes as she sat there, feeling as small as she ever had under his intense glare. The mercurial nature of the man made him so difficult to deal with. Cold and in control one moment, and then incandescent with rage the next at the great… _disappointment_ that was his eldest daughter and Heiress.

"One year," he said, finally. "I will give you until this time next year to either make progress with the Lord Potter, or I will see you gone from this family so your… your illness can no longer shame this great House."

She lowered her head, hiding her eyes from him and whispered, brokenly, "I understand, Father."

"Get out of my sight."

She rose from her seat and left the room as quickly as she could without running, closing the door carefully behind her before she broke into a mad run through the halls of the house, the prison she'd grown up in.

When she reached her room she burst through the door and fairly flew onto her bed, finally collapsing into wracking sobs as great, bitter tears rolled down her cheeks. She was not alone long when a pair of arms wrapped around her and drew her into a tight embrace.

"I am so sorry, Daphne," her mother whispered. "I wish there was more I could do for you. You are my daughter, my first born, and I cannot tell you how much I love you. It breaks my heart to see you upset, but he is our Head of House."

Daphne said nothing. She knew there was nothing her mother could do. She knew there was nothing she could do. The Lord Greengrass commanded, and it was their duty to obey his commands. Even if there was no way she could ever, truly, love Harry in the way that was needed.

Her mother held her as she cried, silent tears streaking her own cheeks until the girl in her arms exhausted herself and drifted off into a fitful, troubled sleep.


	25. Christmas Surprises

**Author's Notes: All right gang, here we are once again, The Rotten Writer returning with a new, actual chapter of Soul Scars. First and foremost I would really like to take this time to thank everyone that commented and even sent a PM over the note I published previously. My Uncle passed away, and it hit rather harder than expected. I think mostly due to the fact that I didn't even know he'd been sick for nearly a year until my Dad called to tell me he was gone.**

 **That hurt the most, I think. Uncle Danny never even met my kids and I'd honestly have made a greater effort to match up schedules and meet them for lunch or something, even. Well, hindsight being what it is and all that, it's been a rough few weeks but you guys have all been wonderful and amazingly supportive and I appreciate that more than I can honestly express. Thank you, all.**

 **This chapter is way more of a set up chapter for some future things that are going to be happening than anything else, though I do have one pretty fun little moment toward the end. Fun for me, at least. I got a kick out of writing it.**

 **I understand that people were a little thrown with some events in the previous chapter, particularly in how Blaise behaved. Honestly I considered rewriting portions of that chapter but I felt to do so I'd have had to adjust too much and I would probably have missed some minor things that wouldn't have made sense. I've briefly addressed that issue in this one and while it's not a perfect solution, it sets the groundwork, I feel, for correcting some mistakes. Hopefully this will be satisfactory and I'll try harder to avoid such silly behaviors in the future.**

 **I do believe the next chapter will kick us into some more events with the Heir of Slytherin and all that business and the chapter after SHOULD see us heading down into the chamber itself. So I'm thinking three, maybe four more chapters to wrap up second year.**

 **This is NOT going to be one of those 'Harry is stupidly overpowered' kind of stories. I do however have plans for Harry to be powerful, I'm also working on giving real and solid reasons for WHY he's powerful. One of those reasons happens this year and it's going to have lasting effects on the rest of the story. I do not intend for him to be an animagus, as much as the idea tickles me.**

 **Any thoughts or suggestions on helping the girls to keep pace with Harry though would be appreciated. As it is I have plans that involve their bond and all that, but I want the girls to stand out on their own as well, ya know? So lemme know if anyone has any ideas. Things I like and can work in I will and all credit will be given to the reviewer who suggests anything I may use.**

 **Disclaimer: All I own is the story idea. The characters and world belong to good old J.K and anyone else that actually has any ownership of the rights. I'm just playing with her characters.**

 **Moving on, now, to Chapter 24 of Soul Scars.**

Soul Scars Part Two

Darkness Within

By,

Rtnwriter

Steam rose in soft curls from the surface of the dark liquid. Almost hypnotic in how the swirled gently in the air. He lifted the cup, bringing the nearly scalding liquid to his lips and took a slow, careful sip.

"Mmmm…." He hummed in appreciation for both the warmth and the slightly bitter taste as he lowered the cup and held it, cradled in both hands. Long, dexterous fingers clutched the smooth ceramic. Fingers calloused by hard work and deceptively strong.

The sun was barely beginning to rise, cool gray light filtering through the overcast sky. With the approaching dawn, the December chill in the air had become even more biting, but he didn't care. In fact, he reveled in it. The cold caressed the exposed skin of his hands and face, cheeks tight, nose numb.

He took a deep breath through his nose as the frigid air seared its way into his lungs and exhaled a thick cloud of steam through his mouth. A light breeze kicked up for a moment, carrying a familiar pair of scents to his nose and he couldn't help but smile. He'd felt it when she woke some ten minutes earlier.

"I love this time of the day," he said, speaking in the kind of quiet tones usually reserved for Libraries and Churches. A hushed voice, as if to speak too loudly would shatter the delicate atmosphere.

"Why is that?" she asked as she walked up and sat beside him, so close that their shoulders were almost touching.

"Just listen," he told her, and she did, her head cocked to one side as she strained her ears.

"I don't hear anything," she admitted after several minutes spent waiting in silence.

"Exactly," he whispered. "The world is alive. Always, everywhere there is the struggle for life, for survival. But right now, in this moment, everything is still asleep. It's peaceful and quiet and I can think without all the noise and activity. But there's a sense of anticipation still. This feeling of tension, like a bowstring drawn too tight and all it needs is just the slightest bit of pressure for it to snap."

He fell silent, his eyes as bright as the smile on his face as she considered that, looking out over the blanket of snow that bathed the world around them in white.

"Is that how you've felt about your life, before?" she asked, almost hesitantly. "That the day to day is nothing but a struggle to survive?"

He said nothing, but she felt that she was right.

"I know things are hard, right now," she told him in the same hushed tones that he'd been using. "But we'll get through it. And… I want you to promise me something. Surviving isn't living. Don't forget what your mother wrote to you. Don't forget to live."

Blue eyes shone with an earnest plea and he shifted his mug to his left hand before he wrapped his right arm around her shoulders and drew her closer against his side.

"I'll try," he promised, finally. "I think that's the best that I can do right now."

Susan nodded and let her head rest on Harry's shoulder, her own arm wrapping around his waist as, around them, the world began to rise from its slumber and continued a battle for survival that had begun when the very first living thing appeared, and would continue for as long as any creature still drew breath.

#####

Harry drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly as he waited in the lobby of Gringotts. Susan, Hermione, Daphne, Neville, and Amelia sat, relatively calmly in the same seats the ladies had occupied the year before when he first met with Sharpshard. Harry, however, felt too restless and found himself unable to sit, standing a few feet away while the others chatted quietly behind him.

Neville had been behaving somewhat strangely, something that Harry couldn't really put his finger on but wasn't too obvious. He seemed to be anticipating something but Harry was reluctant to press his friend on the matter. If Neville wanted him to know, he reasoned, then he would say something. So Harry did his best to push it from his mind and let his own rambling thoughts consume him.

Why had he done that? He couldn't understand how he had so easily opened up like he had that morning, even if it was to one of his girls. He'd even stopped feeling any surprise when he realized that he'd thought of them as _his_ girls. More and more, he was finding, his usual defenses were being stripped away, a layer at a time as he became more comfortable with them. A part of him hated it, that small kernel of deeply held fear that lurked in the deepest parts of his soul. But a larger part didn't seem to have any problem with letting the girls in deeper and deeper.

Harry frowned and shook his head, frustrated by the circular thoughts. He knew enough to understand they were going to become closer and closer as time went on, that was a given, so why was he driving himself crazy trying to figure everything out? _You've got more pressing things to worry about right at the moment,_ he thought a moment later as a sudden commotion caught his attention and his eyes widened in shock when he turned to see what was causing it.

Wizards and witches scattered, some of them pressing themselves tightly against the walls and tried to pretend they weren't there in the hopes that no one would notice them, while others bolted for the doors and out into the Alley.

The sound of a dozen heavy footsteps marching in perfect synch echoed through the cavernous lobby as Griphook, dressed smartly in a neatly pressed suit and tie, came into view from the tunnels leading back into the bank with six heavily armored goblin warriors marching behind him in two rows of three as he strode purposefully across the smooth marble floor directly toward where Harry was standing. Though each warrior was only as tall as Harry's elbows, they were no less intimidating for it. Dressed in heavy looking armor that gleamed in the light, each with a sword strapped to one hip and a halberd in hand, they practically radiated danger.

"Lord Potter," Griphook greeted him., "I pray your vaults swell with the gold of those who would dare attempt to stand against you."

"And may their blood run as rivers in the streets, shed by your own sure hand and sharp blades, Teller Griphook," Harry returned almost without thought. "It's very nice to see you again, but, what is all this?" He gestured to the armored warriors with one hand where they stood, stone faced and still behind the bank teller. "I haven't done anything to offend the Goblin Nation, have I?"

Griphook smiled. "No, Lord Potter, not that I am aware of. However, someone heard that you would be going to see your Accounts Manager today and requested to meet you. These warriors are simply your escort, should you agree to the meeting. And I have it on good authority that I may be in line for a rather big promotion, soon," he added. "So I may not be a Teller for much longer."

Harry smiled as broadly as he could while not showing any of his teeth to the goblins surrounding him. "That's wonderful news, Griphook," he said, happily. "Congratulations. You deserve it."

"Thank you, Lord Potter. You have no idea how much your words mean to me," Griphook said, his gravely voice clearly managing to convey the emotion he felt even if his face and posture gave away nothing as he bowed low from the waist.

Harry returned the bow, bending equally as far as the little goblin and he frowned when he heard muttered voices as a rippling wave of conversation made its way through those wizards and witches that still stood inside the banks lobby, each and every one of them watching the conversation with keen interest. Many of the adults he saw had disgusted expressions on their faces, whether because of the familiar way in which he spoke to the goblin, or the respect he showed by bowing so far as a Lord of a Most Ancient and Noble House, he wasn't sure. But either way he didn't like it and scowled at them until they looked away.

"About this meeting?" he asked as he turned back to Griphook. "Will it take very long? My friends and I do have other business to attend to in the Alley today. And also, would they be able to join us? I don't like constantly leaving them all out here cooling their heels while I conduct business but they insist on not just going about their shopping while I get things done."

"Of course, Lord Potter," Griphook told him. "Any friend of yours is always welcome to accompany you. So long as you trust them with anything they may hear we would never bar someone from accompanying you while you conduct your business with the Nation. In fact, in this particular instance the other children with you are requested to attend as well."

"Well then," Harry said and turned to wave Amelia and the rest of them forward from where they'd been carefully observing. "The Muggles have a saying that I believe I can paraphrase here. Time is Galleons. So, let's not waste anymore of either and we can let these warriors return to their other duties that I'm sure they are neglecting because of the necessity of escorting us this morning."

Griphook barked out something in the deep, guttural language of the goblins and the six armored warriors fell into formation, surrounding Harry and the rest as Griphook led the way behind the counter and into the tunnels that led deeper into the bank.

In previous visits, the walk to Account Manager Sharpshard's office took about five minutes to complete. By the time they reached the fifteen minute mark, Harry was beginning to get concerned again, despite Griphook's assurances that there was no trouble. His worry wasn't helped by a nearly overwhelming sense of apprehension that was coming from Daphne. He kept glancing back over his shoulder at her as they walked but none of what she was feeling showed on her face, her emotionless mask firmly in place as she strode along with all the poise and grace of a queen amongst peasants.

The entire group was silent, save for the heavy footsteps of their armored escort until they finally reached a set of tall double doors made of a gleaming silvery metal. Every inch of them was etched in runes that seemed to glow with an inner power of some kind as a pulsing amber light filled them. Griphook stepped forward and placed the palm of one hand on the doors for a moment before he barked out a single word.

A sizzling sound rent the air around them and Harry could swear that, for a moment, his hair stood on end.

Then the doors slowly, and silently, swung open entirely on their own. Griphook led the way into a massive room cut into an octagonal shape. The floor beneath their feet was a dark green marble with smoky gray streaks running through it that was shined to such a smooth finish that he could see their reflections as they walked across the empty space to a single massive mahogany table behind which sat a very imposing looking goblin.

He was bigger than any goblin Harry had yet seen, probably as tall as Daphne was, meaning he would have come up to Harry's nose, at least, and he was dressed in what looked like solid gold plate armor. A massive double bladed battle axe stood leaning against the table next to the goblin where he sat in a large, almost throne-like chair. The goblins exposed arms and hands were littered in the scars of many battles and there was another scar across his face that ran from the top of his bald head, diagonally across his left eye and down to the edge of his jaw. He still had both eyes and he stared at them with a fierce intensity that Harry could actually feel like a palpable presence in the air around them.

It was easy to see this Goblin was placed very highly in the banks management ranks, and Harry decided he would use every bit of what his friends had been teaching him during this meeting.

"Lord Potter and friends," Griphook stated in measured tones as they came to a stop across the table from the goblin. The six warriors took up positions nearby and all became as still as any statue, their eyes never straying from the humans in their midst.

Harry took a single step forward and bowed low as be growled out a single carefully memorized sentence in the goblin language, his eyes never leaving those of the goblin on the other side of the table. As such he noticed a slight twitch around the creatures right eye, but he gave no other sign that he was surprised and quickly responded in kind, bowing his head slowly for a moment before gesturing for Harry to straighten.

"I have been told that you are a different sort of wizard, young Lord Potter," the goblin said in a deep, gravely voice. "I was not aware that you spoke our tongue, however."

Harry stood straight and shrugged one shoulder. "To be perfectly honest, Sir, I don't. As I told Teller Griphook here on my second visit to your bank last year, I did my best to research your people so I could address the goblins as properly and politely as I could. It makes little sense to me not to be polite, unless of course I'm given reason to. In my research I read that that was a traditional greeting for a Blooded Warrior amongst the Nation. I hope my pronunciation was acceptable and honestly, I've no idea what it means in English, so if I have misspoken then I would beg forgiveness for any offense and request that you not hold my friends accountable for my actions."

The goblin cracked a smile, one where just a hint of teeth was shown. "I would say that your pronunciation was passable, Lord Potter. I was able to understand you at least. However, you did make one mistake. Blooded Warrior, I may be, however I am far more highly ranked, and your greeting was one for a lower ranked goblin."

Harry hid a wince at that and did his best to ignore the ratcheting apprehension he felt rolling across the bond from all three girls as the goblin continued speaking. "However, the fact that you tried, even though you were mistaken, I take as a sign of respect that we are so rarely shown from wizards. I take no offense." He glanced over to one of the armored warriors and barked out a few words which sent the goblin scurrying out of the room. "I will have a few books brought for you to take when you leave. It is refreshing to find one such as yourself going to such trouble to learn about and understand our people. I would see that continue."

Harry blinked in shock but quickly bowed again. "Thank you, Sir," he said. "I would be thrilled to learn more about your people and the Nation as a whole."

"Please, introduce your companions."

"Of course, Sir." Harry turned and indicated each individual as he spoke. "This is my guardian, Madam Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with the Ministry of Magic. My friend, Heir Presumptive Neville Longbottom of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom. Heiress Presumptive Daphne Greengrass of the Most Ancient and Noble house of Greengrass. Heiress Presumptive Susan Bones of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Bones. And finally, Hermione Granger. The young ladies and I share a Soul Bond."

The goblin stood and bowed to them. "I am Ragnok VII, Manager of the London Branch of Gringotts, and it is my pleasure to meet you all. Please, be seated." He sat and gestured to a set of chairs that appeared on their side of the table.

"I find it surprising that you would bring up the Bond that you share with the ladies, Lord Potter. It is my understanding that you have all gone out of your way to keep it a secret."

Harry nodded, feeling the same questioning curiosity from the girls. "Normally, I would not have brought it up so blatantly. However when I was here a year ago, my Accounts Manager indicated that Gringotts was already aware of the bond. He even mentioned all three of them by name without my ever bringing them up. I seriously doubted that you weren't already aware and I had no reason to hide from you something that Gringotts already knew about."

"A wise decision, Lord Potter." He eyed them for a moment before leaning back in his chair and placing his palms on his chest, long fingers laced together. "I would imagine you are wondering why I requested this meeting," he said.

"The thought did cross my mind, Sir."

Ragnok nodded and a stern expression settled over his already frightening visage. "I wished to confirm a rumor that we have heard from Hogwarts."

Harry cocked his head to the side. "A rumor, Sir?"

"Yes. We goblins try to keep informed of what is happening in the world and you, young Lord, are well known to the Nation for your defeat of the Dark Wizard Voldemort over a decade ago. I have heard, however, that you faced him again last year at your school."

Harry sighed and nodded. "I did, Sir. Voldemort did not die the night he attacked my family."

Over the next quarter of an hour Harry told the story of their first year at Hogwarts, with the help of his friends as they chimed in where necessary, ending with Harry once again recounting how he faced Quirrell. They expressly did not mention how Harry apparently died during that encounter and by the end of it the warrior Ragnok had sent off had returned with Sharpshard in tow with a stack of books tucked under one arm.

As they'd talked Ragnok never once interrupted. He simply listened carefully, his sharp eyes never leaving Harry, even when Susan, Hermione, Daphne, or Neville interjected with some part of the story.

"You regret ending this professor's suffering," he said after they'd finished and several minutes of silence had stretched out between them.

Harry frowned. "Not entirely," he admitted. "At first I was… horrified, by my actions. Whatever anyone else said, he was still alive when I faced him, even if he wouldn't have survived Voldemort's possession of his body. When he and I fought, I fought a living, breathing, individual and I killed him with my own hands. That's not something I think I will ever be able to forget."

"And forget you shouldn't. It is these kinds of experiences that help shape you into the person that you are and future events will shape the person you become. But you are no longer horrified?" Ragnok asked, noting Harry's choice of words.

Harry glanced to his right where Hermione sat in the chair beside him with Neville on her other side. Then he glanced to his left at Susan, Daphne, and Amelia respectively. When he looked back at Ragnok his eyes had hardened into emerald chips and he spoke with a finality that left no one doubting him. "I do not want to kill anyone, if I could help it," he said. "But I have people that care about me, and that I care about, and anyone that threatens them will learn that I _will_ use every means at my disposal to defend them, even if it meant my own life."

Ragnok nodded. That was a sentiment the warrior could clearly understand and appreciate. He stood from his throne and as one, every goblin in the room saluted with their right hand clenched into a fist as they pounded it over the left side of their chests. Not knowing what else to do, Harry stood and returned the salute, sitting as Ragnok did.

"Lord Potter, I would like to express to you the grateful thanks of the Goblin Nation. We are not fools. If Voldemort won during the last war we have no illusions how we goblins would have been treated. When he attacked your family, no one can say what happened that night. No one can say how you defeated him, or even _if_ you actually did something yourself or if perhaps it was the actions of your mother, from all accounts a brilliant witch in her own right.

"The House of Potter has long held a status as Friend to the Goblin Nation and many would have extended that right to you for that night. Unfortunately, I could not allow that, since so little was truly understood of what happened that night. However," he added and gestured to the side where Sharpshard approached with a small box held in one clawed hand, "your actions at Hogwarts are entirely of your own. For that action, I would like to honor you and your friends today. I would have it known that Lord Harry James Potter of the House of Potter, along with his friend Neville Francis Longbottom, and his bond mates, are now, and will forever be known, as Friends to the Goblin Nation."

He opened the box and pulled out a gleaming gold medal on a red ribbon stamped with the Gringotts Crest which he handed to Sharpshard. The old goblin came around the table and Harry stood, crouching down so it could be pinned to his robes on the left side of his chest. After he straightened and returned to his seat Ragnok called the rest of them forward, one at a time, and Sharpshard pinned identical medals to their own robes.

"Never before in the history of our two people have so many wizards and witches been granted status as Friend to the Nation at the same time," Ragnok said after they were all sitting again. "What this means for you is that we here at Gringotts will do our best to help you in anything you need and we will charge you considerably less than we would any other witch or wizard," he added the last with a feral looking grin that had Harry chuckling. "Family is of the utmost importance to goblins, and we consider our Friends as part of our family. You need only wear your medals and any goblin not personally familiar with you will recognize your status and treat you with all due honor and courtesy.

"Miss Granger," Ragnok said and she sat up even straighter in her seat, her attention fully focused on the scarred goblin.

"Yes, Sir?" she asked, politely.

"You do not have a vault with Gringotts, do you?"

"No, Sir. My parents are non-magical so they just exchange Pounds for Galleons when we need them."

"That changes today. I will be authorizing a vault to be opened in your name and I will supply it with one thousand Galleons myself. Also, in the future your parents need only introduce themselves and they will have the usual exchange fees waved if they wish to procure any wizarding currency."

Hermione's eyes were so wide Harry ridiculously wondered, for a moment, if they might be in danger of rolling out of her head into her lap and he forced himself not to snort out a laugh at the ludicrous thought.

"Th-that is very generous of you, Sir," she said. "But isn't that a bit much?"

Ragnok glowered at her and she actually let out a frightened 'eeep' before his glower smoothed out and he smiled at her. "Miss Granger," he said, calmly. "From the story you all told, your assistance was just as vital as Lord Potter's own actions. He may have faced the Dark One alone, in the end, but it is clear he would not have made it as far as he did without all of your help and assistance. It is for that help that you have been recognized as Friends. And as such, I feel it is my duty to ensure that Friends to the Nation are financially solvent.

"Mister Longbottom, Miss Bones, and Miss Greengrass all have vaults and funds they can access, and more coming to them when they reach their majority. You are a witch, are you not?"

She nodded, still wide eyed but calming.

"Then as a witch, you are a part of this world. You are also a part of the muggle world but you should remember, young lady, that just because you are a part of two worlds, does not mean that you _have_ to choose between one or the other. You belong to both, and you should search out the balance to living in both of them. To assist you with this I _will_ be opening this vault for you and you will accept it, graciously. At some time in the near future you may bring your parents and key them into the vault, as your guardians. You may even give them access to your vault, should you desire. The choice is yours."

Hermione stood and carefully curtsied. It wasn't as smooth as those executed by Daphne and Susan, but it was easily recognizable and Ragnok appreciated the gesture. "Thank you, Sir. I am grateful for the vault and the funds and swear to work to improve relations in the future between our two people."

Ragnok chuckled as he bowed slightly to her and she returned once again to her seat. "I believe that if more wizards and witches thought as you and Lord Potter, there might be few and only minor issues between our people. I believe I shall be keeping a close eye on the five of you in the future and I look forward to seeing what you will all accomplish."

They recognized the dismissal for what it was and the six of them quickly stood, bowing or curtsying to him before they were led from the room by Griphook and Sharpshard.

"Merlin's beard," Daphne breathed out, almost in relief after the doors closed behind them and they were once again making their way through the tunnels towards Sharpshard's office. "When you get someone's attention you really don't do it by halves, do you Harry?" she muttered and Harry shot her a confused look across Susan who was walking between them.

"Huh?" he asked.

"Don't you know who that was?" she blurted out, louder than she meant to.

Harry shrugged. "Ragnok VII," he said. "Manager of the London Branch of Gringotts?"

Daphne gaped at him, her mouth hanging open while Sharpshard started laughing, accompanied by the other goblins with them.

"Lord Potter," Griphook offered, taking pity on the wizard. "Manager Ragnok is the son of Ragnok VI, also known as King Ragnok VI, leader of the entire Goblin Nation."

Harry blinked several times. "So… I used a low ranked greeting for a Blooded Goblin Warrior to the future King of _all_ the goblins?" he squeaked, his voice cracking embarrassingly at the end.

"Indeed you did, young Lord," Sharpshard confirmed. "However I wouldn't worry if I were you. As we've told you before, it is refreshing, to us, to have a wizard speak to us like equals and Manager Ragnok already said that he took no offense. Just the fact that you tried continues to show us the type of person you are, and the type of man you will become." He tapped the books he was holding under one arm with a claw. "I would, however, recommend that you continue to learn and not simply rest on your laurels. If you are ever honored enough to meet Manager Ragnok again, an incorrect greeting would not be as graciously waved away."

"U-un-understood," Harry stammered weakly and they fell silent for the rest of their walk. The children all looked shocked while the goblins and Amelia smiled knowingly at them.

She moved up so she was walking close behind Harry and leaned down to whisper to him, "I'm very proud of you, Harry," she murmured in his ear. "You did an excellent job with the information you had and I'm fairly certain you've done more to bridge the gap between wizards and goblins singlehandedly than almost anyone else ever has." She squeezed his shoulder and let him pull ahead a but before she dropped her hand and they quietly completed their journey.

#####

Neville Longbottom had a lot to think about on the night of Christmas Eve. The next day he would be going to Bones Manor to spend Christmas Day with his friends, something he didn't think would ever happen before he started at Hogwarts. But at present, he was sitting before the fire in the parlor staring absently into the fire as so many different thoughts rolled through his mind. His family. His friends. His place in the work. In particular, Neville thought about himself and the changes he had gone through since he met one Harry James Potter.

Before Hogwarts he was shy, timid, and practically lived in fear of his own shadow. He'd shown almost no magical ability and even after starting school he'd still had trouble with his magic. Then Harry pointed out to him that he needed his own wand. Accompanying Harry and his girls on their fight for the Stone last year had been another turning point in his life and he finally understood that it was okay to be afraid, as long as he found the courage to act when it counted.

This past term had been the best yet for Neville Longbottom. With his new wand, he had found spells coming easier and easier and with each success his confidence grew. Even the more vocal Slytherins, except for Malfoy, had stopped referring to him as a Squib after they witnessed the strength behind some of his spells and he couldn't help but feel a little boost of pride at that fact.

Now, he found himself mulling over a new problem. His fiend faced trouble and hardships and Neville knew that there was one thing that he _might_ be able to do to help. It wouldn't solve the issues by itself, but it just might make some people think twice about continuing to give Harry any grief over things.

Augusta Longbottom quietly observed her grandson. In the two days that Neville had been home he'd been unusually quiet, even for him. He hadn't even spent much time in his greenhouse, something completely out of character for him.

The changes the last year and a half had brought out in him were both worrisome and encouraging to her at the same time. It was encouraging to see the glimpses of the powerful and confident wizard that he was sure to become and more and more he reminded her of his father.

But at the same time, it worried her how serious he was becoming. He was still a child, not even a teenager yet, and already he sometimes acted like someone twice his age.

"Neville?" she asked, drawing his attention away from the fireplace that he'd been staring into for nearly an hour. "Is everything okay?"

He was silent for a moment before he shook his head. "No, Gran," he said, finally. "Nothing is okay right now. Harry is facing some trouble, and I've been doing my best to help and support him, but I think that there's more I can do. I don't feel as if I've been living up to the spirit of our agreement with House Potter."

"Tell me of these troubles, and maybe together we can come up with what you can do."

"I already know what I _want_ to do," he admitted. "I just need you to confirm that it is something I actually _can_ do. I think I can, I'm just not certain if the Longbottom Family Bylaws will allow it."

She quirked a brow at that, startled to hear how serious he was being if he was concerned about the family bylaws preventing him, but remained silent as her grandson spoke. As he did both eyebrows slowly climbed toward her hairline even as her jaw fell lower and lower.

"Well," she said, shaking herself out of her surprised stupor once he'd finished. "Well, that is certainly a mess." She fell silent and thought over the situation, studying him carefully while she turned it over in her mind.

He sat straight and confident in his seat, showing no sign of nerves or apprehension as he waited for her answer and something occurred to her as she observed him.

"You aren't asking me for permission to do this, are you?" she finally asked after several long minutes had passed and Neville, almost regretfully, shook his head.

"No, Gran. I'm not asking, I'm telling you that this is what I want to do and this is what I intend to do. But you know the bylaws better than I do. I've already looked into it and as far as wizarding law is concerned I can do this, the only thing stooping me would be something in the family bylaws that wouldn't allow me to take this step. So I am asking for your advice on how to proceed, but I need you to understand that I will no longer take orders from you. You're my grandmother, and you've raised me my entire life, and I love you, but it is past time that I started coming into my own. If I can do this it will mean great things for House Longbottom and will allow me to help Harry and House Potter in ways that I can't right now."

It was his calm delivery and reasoned tone of voice that decided her more than anything. "You've changed a lot," she observed, aware that she'd made a similar observation just a year previously. "If you were still that same scared little boy from two years ago I would never even consider answering you on this issue."

"If I was that same boy I would never have considered asking," he pointed out and she nodded in agreement.

"True enough," she said before she sighed and leaned back in her seat. "Yes, you can do what you're suggesting, it is within your rights to do so. But… are you absolutely positive that this is the course you want to take?"

Neville nodded firmly, his face set and a firm gaze steadily meeting his grandmother's. "Yes, Gran. It's the best option that I have that will allow me to do more than I already am, and it will help to further cement relations between our families."

"Then you'd better send that girl a letter, she'll need time to decide and to research, according to what you've said about her."

Neville nodded and stood, giving her a quick hug before he left and headed to his study, leaving his Grandmother behind to take up his task of staring into the flames in the fireplace.

"Look's like Longbottom is set to make waves in wizarding society once again," she muttered before turning her gaze to the wand sitting on a stand in the center of the mantle above the fireplace. "Oh, you and Alice would be so proud of your boy, Frank," she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes.

#####

On Christmas Eve Harry spent much of the day in a daze, his eyes frequently drawn, as if by a magnetic pull, to the medal that Sharpshard had pinned to his robes where it rested on the low table in his bedroom whenever he happened to enter the room for one thing or another. They spent the day wrapping presents, playing games, working on homework, and generally spending time together as a strange family.

Harry, Hermione, Daphne, Susan, and Amelia managed to fill the house with excited chatter, singing, laughter, and the entire large manor felt filled to overflowing with warm feelings and good cheer.

By the time evening fell and Daphne and Hermione had returned to their respective homes, Harry was in his room once again, sitting in one of the chairs by the fire, and he still couldn't wrap his mind around everything that'd happened the day before.

After reaching Sharpshard's office, Harry was given the books on goblin culture that Ragnok had promised and they were finally able to take care of the reason they'd come to the bank in the first place, the material gathered by the Goblin Nation regarding Soul Bonds. With it, however, came yet another mystery to add to the growing pile that Harry felt he was minutes away from collapsing under their combined weight.

First, whatever, or whoever was attacking students at school.

Second was his worries over the bond with the girls and what was happening to them all.

Third would be Dobby and whatever he knew that he couldn't tell them. He was insistent that Harry and the girls were in danger but wouldn't give them any information, plus they had no idea which family he worked for.

The fourth concern rattling through his mind was the upcoming meeting with the Lady Zabini. He couldn't begin to guess why she wanted to meet with him but he listened to Daphne and Susan and did as much research as he could before the meeting in three days.

And finally, the goblins were incensed, furious by apparent theft on their land. The information on Soul Bonds that they provided was incomplete, according to Sharpshard. They received three books, all incredibly old, but the old goblin had insisted that he remembered there being considerably more information that had apparently disappeared, with no one being able to tell when, how, why, not even who. Was someone intentionally trying to remove information on Soul Bonds?

Harry growled and shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts physically from his mind with little success. After the events at Gringotts they'd gone about completing their Christmas shopping, the group splitting up into teams to shop and then meeting for lunch to swap partners so they could then shop for those that had been with them before. By the time they all went home all shopping had been completed and most of them appeared to have put the strange happenings of the morning from their minds.

But Harry couldn't. He growled again and stood, suddenly feeling restless as he moved across his room and opened the door, heading down to the kitchen where he poured himself a cup of coffee from the every present pot waiting for him and sank into one of the chairs at the table, hoping the peace and quiet would help quell the whirling thoughts in his head.

"We keep finding ourselves in here, don't we?"

Harry looked up from his mug, unsurprised to find Amelia standing at the counter, pouring herself a cup of tea. When she finished she joined him at the table and gave him a long, concerned look.

"I guess so," he muttered, shrugging his shoulders.

"Well, gonna tell me what's bothering you tonight?" She sat back and took a sip of her tea, eyeing him over the rim of the cup and he shrugged again.

"Nothing," he tried. "Everything. I don't know…" he trailed off and let out a huge sigh. "Do you ever feel like there's something else going on other than what you can see on the surface?" he tried and she tilted her head to the side slightly, regarding him carefully.

"As an investigator, I felt that a lot. But I don't think that's quite what you're meaning in this case, is it?"

"Maybe?" He groaned and raked his fingers back through his hair, noting idly that it was starting to get a bit long. "I don't know. There's just… there's so much going on right now. This whole Heir business and Dobby and the Lady Zabini and…" he trailed off again and shrugged his shoulders morosely.

"It does all seem to be a bit much. What're you worried about?"

"Everything?"

She glared at him slightly and he sighed again.

"I mean… everything is just a mess. I don't even think I want to go back to Hogwarts with all this Heir crap going on and everyone blaming me for it. Nobody will listen except for my friends and you. This meeting with Lady Zabini is worrying me, I can't imagine what she'd want to talk to me about, I'm nobody. I'm still worried about what's happening with the girls and our bond and… it just all feels off, somehow." He frowned. "No, that's not right. Not everything. This business with the Heir, maybe Lady Zabini, and the missing information about Soul Bonds. That all seems off."

"How do you mean?"

"I've asked around," he told her. "The older students tell me that school was never this exciting, their words, before last year. Voldemort's been running around as a wraith for how long now and he suddenly shows up at the school the same year that I start? And then this Heir business, again, it feels like it's only happening because I'm there. The missing information on Soul Bonds too. We're the first quartet of bonded souls in history and when we start looking, every place we try to find any information about what we're going through it's missing or never existed? I mean… am I just being paranoid?"

Amelia considered that carefully before she answered, turning over every point he mentioned in her mind as she considered them from every angle she could. "I don't know," she admitted, finally. "I don't know if there's something bigger going on, some conspiracy, it sounds like. I'll admit to seeing some strange coincidences, and I don't like coincidences. I've always felt too many coincidences indicates a pattern. But at this point I don't think we have enough information to be able to accurately say one way or the other.

"I'm not discounting your thoughts, but I think we need more information." She leaned forward and held his gaze with her own, staring intently into his eyes. "And I need you, Harry, to be extremely careful. If anything happens, I don't want you running off into danger if it can possibly be avoided. We really would rather you were healthy and stuck around with us, understand?"

He gave her a small smile and nodded.

"So, what'd you get Susan for Christmas?" she asked, her dark blue eyes twinkling merrily and he grinned before he leaned forward and the two spent an hour talking quietly, all thoughts of dangers and conspiracies shoved aside.

#####

"This way, please to follow Jared."

Silently, Harry and Amelia did as requested, following the well dressed house elf as he escorted them from the Zabini Floo access room into a comfortably appointed sitting room where the Lady Zabini was waiting, along with Blaise.

"Lady Zabini," Harry said, accepting and bowing over her extended hand where he placed a kiss upon the air just above her knuckles. It had been drilled into him that as they were not familiar with each other, or friends, he should not actually touch his lips to her hand. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Please, Lord Potter, the pleasure is entirely mine, I assure you," she said. Her voice had a husky, throaty quality to it that, if Harry had been a bit older, or perhaps, more knowledgeable, he might have though each word from her lips just dripped in sexual promise. As it was, he found her voice appealing, but couldn't really place a finger on why, so he shrugged it off as he released her hand and she turned to greet Amelia.

"It is wonderful to see you again, Lady Zabini. You're looking well."

'Well' was an understatement that even Harry could clearly identify. Valerie Zabini looked fantastic, and she knew it. Her long dark hair was styled into a complicated looking braid and she wore a form hugging, crimson colored off-the-shoulder gown that accentuated her curves and drew attention to her expansive cleavage. With just a touch of makeup and no jewelry, aside from her House Ring, she was absolutely beautiful.

"Thank you," she said, graciously accepting the compliment. "You as well, Amelia, though we aren't here to admire each other, are we?" she asked as she gestured for them to sit.

"You bring us to a point of some interest," Harry said after they'd made themselves comfortable and the same elf that showed them to the room had placed a beautiful tea setting on a low coffee table. "Why are we here?" he asked, trying to inject polite curiosity into his tone.

"Before I answer that, would you indulge me a moment of curiosity?" she asked before taking a slow sip of her tea.

He kept his expression as impassive as he could but gesture for her to continue.

"Were you expecting trouble here today?" she asked and Harry quirked a brow in her direction, not really under sting the question.

She gestured to Amelia where she sat next to Harry on the small sofa, a cup of tea in hand and an almost amused smirk tugging at her lips.

"I did say you could bring any guest of your choosing. However, I didn't expect to see the Head of the DMLE in my home this morning. So I'm wondering if you were expecting some kind of trouble coming here, despite assurances of House Hospitality."

Harry couldn't help but smile at that. "Well, it's good to know that's working out as planned," he told Amelia who's smirk had only extended into a full grin. He turned back to their hostess and waved away her concern. "I apologize for the confusion," he told her. "No, I did not have any expectations of problems or issues here today. Madam Bones is here simply because she is my legal guardian. We haven't been expressly hiding the fact that I accepted the Bones Family's offer of guardianship this summer, but we haven't been advertising it either." He shrugged. "I'm sure people will figure it out, eventually, but I didn't want to have people harassing them simply because they were good enough to offer me a home."

"And because you're bonded to the Bones Heiress," she said, a smug smirk twisting her darkly painted lips and Harry felt as if ice water had suddenly poured into his veins and he stared intently at her, Blaise sitting quietly to one side as he observed everything.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he almost growled and she let out a laugh.

"Please, Lord Potter. Your reaction would have given you away if nothing else. But I don't want to worry you so I'll come right out and say that I have no intention of causing you or yours any trouble over this issue."

"Then why bring it up?" he asked, his heart rate slowly dropping down to something approaching normal.

She leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs at the knee, her cup balanced carefully on her raised knee as she eyed him. "I'm willing to bet that not many people have realized what it is that's happened between you and those three girls you spend all your time with. But some of us do know what a Soul Bonding is supposed to look like. At least what the stories tell us it should look like. I wanted to warn you."

"Warn me about what?"

"You're well aware that not everyone in the world is nice and willing to play well with others," she said, her dark eyes pinning him to his seat. "There are terrible people in the world, and some of them are willing to do terrible things. I wouldn't dream of trying to tell you how to live your life or how you go about managing your own affairs. But I would recommend deciding when and how you want to publicly acknowledge this bond. It's going to come out eventually, and it would be good for you to be ahead of it."

"Why is it anyone's business but ours?" he asked.

"Because people are stupid, Lord Potter," Blaise cut in and Harry shifted his focus to his school mate. "One of the girls bonded to you is muggleborn, and another is from a family that many consider to be borderline dark. With the kind of crap that Rita Skeeter writes, do you honestly think that if it's discovered, and broken in the press before you say something about it, that she won't try to twist it to look like one or both of them are taking advantage of the precious Boy-Who-Lived?

"And, as you've already seen this year, people will believe what they want to believe, rather than what's actually true," he added and Harry couldn't help but nod at that.

"I'll take the suggestion under advisement," he muttered. "Is that all you wanted to talk about? An owl would have worked just as well, or even having Blaise just tell us at school."

"No, Lord Potter, that isn't the only reason I asked you here. Not even a real part of the reason, to be honest, it was just a little side note that I felt I could let you know about."

"Then why are we here, Lady Zabini? I informed your Heir back at school that if I didn't like what I heard I was leaving and so far you haven't given me a lot of reason to stick around at the moment."

"I apologize, Lord Potter. I simply wanted to make sure you were aware of the possibility. The primary reason for my requesting this meeting is that I'd like to offer my help, and I would like to offer a chance to increase ties between several families. From what I understand you are already looking to the future and the power that you and your friends may one day wield, true?"

Harry nodded, thoughtfully, and pushed aside thoughts of the bond and who else might know about it. "True," he agreed. "Between myself and my friends we represent a powerful number of Houses, or Houses with contacts that might prove useful in the future."

Amelia was staring at Harry, this wasn't something she'd heard about and found that she was pleased to see that Harry was thinking ahead.

"Potter, Longbottom, Bones, Greengrass, Davis, Abbot, and Zabini. Most Ancient and Noble Houses, Ancient Houses, and a couple of Minor Houses with contacts and influence. Yes, between you all you have the potential to enact great change in our world, change that is needed to prevent further devastation."

"Devastation?" Harry asked, his head cocked to the side as he observed her.

"Yes, Lord Potter. The previous war with You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters was only possible because of the rampant bigotry and the societal belief that blood has anything to do with magical ability or the worthiness of the individual. It is that mindset, that thought process in our society that let the Dark Lord and his followers amass as much power as they did."

"There's nothing we can do about that, though," Harry pointed out. "Not until we're old enough to take our seats on the Wizengamont and we can start pushing for new laws and reforms."

"You may not personally be able to do anything, but the adults in your life can, if you'll let them."

Harry considered that and then sighed. "All right, you've lost me again, Lady Zabini."

"You can appoint a proxy for your seat, an adult that you would trust to vote in a manner that would be in line with your views and plans for the future. The Potter seat holds five votes due to its age and past influence in society. Bones and Longbottom hold five seats each as well while Zabini holds two seats. Abbot and Davis do not hold seats but they do know people and they can influence others."

"And you want me to appoint you as the proxy for my seat?"

"Oh, Merlin no," she said. "Absolutely not, that would be entirely too much to ask. You don't know me and I'm not so optimistic as to think you'd trust me with something so important after such a short meeting."

"Then what are you suggesting?"

"I suggest that you ask your guardian to sit proxy for you. She already sits in the Bones seat until Susan comes of age, it wouldn't be much of a stretch for her to vote for both seats and that's ten votes sewn up right there. I would also ask that we, at the very least, open a dialogue. There are things happening, maneuverings behind closed doors that I feel I may be able to help with."

"You were in Slytherin, weren't you, Lady Zabini?"

She nodded.

"The members of Slytherin have garnered themselves quite a reputation. Much of it is deserved but the one thing that people seem to always get wrong is that just because a person was sorted into that house, doesn't automatically make them evil. Ambitious and cunning, yes, but not evil by default. Ambition and cunning, however, rarely allows for one to give away something for free, so you obviously want something."

She smiled broadly at him, showing plenty of perfectly straight and brilliantly white teeth. "Very good, Lord Potter. You've been taught well by your friends and your bond mates. Yes, I do want something, but rest assured this isn't a request of payment for simple advice, I feel we could be of benefit to each other in regards to our futures and our future fortunes."

"How so?"

"What do you know about House Zabini's business ventures?" she asked, looking to see how well informed he was.

"Zabini Apothecaries exist on nearly every continent and in approximately sixty percent of active magical communities worldwide," he said, thinking back over what he'd learned in the past several days in preparation for this meeting. "Last year, when we first met Blaise, Tracey pointed out that House Greengrass and House Zabini had come at odds over some business ventures so Lord Greengrass had a personal issue with the Zabini family as a result. Considering his business in import/export, I can only imagine that you beat him out on a contract for transporting valuable, rare, or sensitive potions ingredients."

"All of the above, in fact," she admitted with a pleased smirk twisting her lips. "Cyril was most put out when I secured that contract right under his nose. Do you see how you and I might then help each other?"

Harry hummed and thought that over for a moment before he shrugged. "Honestly? I have no idea."

"What?" she blurted out, her surprise breaking her calm poise for a moment. "You don't know about your business holdings? But you're Lord Potter, how could you not know?"

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand, a habit from his years wearing glasses. "Lady Zabini, would you be terribly offended if we dispensed with the formalities and spoke plainly?"

She shook her head and gestured for him to continue.

"Did Blaise tell you where I grew up at all?"

"He mentioned you grew up in the muggle world with an Aunt and Uncle, I believe?"

Harry nodded, his face twisting with distaste. "Yes, that's true enough. And I never learned anything about being a wizard until my eleventh birthday. I wasn't happy there, and last Christmas break when I came into Gringotts to get some money and find out what state my finances were in I was told I could take some control of my own life by becoming Lord Potter. I've used that control to choose my own guardian instead of being forced to live somewhere where I was unloved and unwanted.

"Because I fell bass ackwards into this I honestly don't know much about my families wealth and status other than the contents of my vaults. I know there are properties, investments, and business ventures that I do not presently have the financial understanding to mess with, so I leave that to my accounts manager at Gringotts. I'm slowly attempting to learn more about it but I know better than to attempt to fool around with something that I do not understand and I am relying on them and their business acumen to ensure my wealth continues to grow, or at least doesn't vanish out from under me."

"Well, that explains a few things then, Lord Potter-"

"Harry, please, we agreed to dispense with the formalities, right?" he asked and gave her a lopsided smile.

"Harry it is," she agreed, returning the smile with a genuine one of her own. "And please, my name is Valerie. Anyway, Harry, the Potter family has always done well in business. One of your ancestors long ago invested in potion ingredients procurement. Your family owns the lions share of multiple companies whose only purpose is to acquire potions ingredients and then contract with companies, like my own, in order to transport and then sell them to various apothecaries around the world. I would like to suggest a partnership between our businesses where we help each other."

Harry glanced at Amelia who only shrugged and motioned toward him. The message was clear. If he had a specific question, she would be happy to answer it, but this was his family legacy and his show. He would make his own mistakes and his own successes on his own.

"I can't agree to any partnerships at this time, Valerie," he said, reluctantly, after several minutes thought. "I simply do not understand the ins and outs of business well enough, first of all to be sure I'm not being cheated, but also to ensure that we're both putting in our fair share of the work. However," he added, just as she looked to interrupt, "I would be happy to send my accounts manager, Sharpshard, a message stating that he has my permission to negotiate with you directly. I have already given him much greater autonomy in regards to my families investments and he understands how this all works much better than I do. I know he will make sure that we both get the best possible deal out of any partnership.

"Blaise has told me that your family doesn't proscribe to the pureblood nonsense that so many do, and much of what you've said here today holds to that ideal. If you want to work with me, you'll have to be willing to work with the goblins, and you'll treat them with the same respect and courtesy that you've treated me today. That is non-negotiable. If Sharpshard informs me that you were less than polite in dealing with him then I will instruct him to sever all ties and have no further business dealings with House Zabini."

"I have absolutely no problems with that, Harry," she said. "I've never been one to antagonize people I have to do business with if I can help it. I may not have been overly friendly, but polite and professional when dealing with goblins has always been my preferred method."

"That will do nicely, then," he said and she flashed him another bright grin.

"Well, then I will call upon your accounts manager in a few days?"

"Perhaps wait until after the New Year?" he countered and she gave him a nod. "I'll make sure to let Sharpshard know to expect you and he'll send any contracts to me for approval."

Valerie stood and extended her hand as Harry and Amelia both stood as well and he took her hand, again kissing the air above her knuckles. "I do believe it will be a pleasure doing business with you, Lord Potter."

"I very much hope so, Lady Zabini." Before they headed for the Floo Harry hesitated and turned toward Blaise. "Heir Zabini?" he asked and Blaise straightened up and turned to Harry.

"Yes, Lord Potter?"

"Blaise… I want to apologize for my reaction a few days ago. I'll admit that I'm still knew at this whole Lordship business, but I shouldn't have been so put out with you. It was pointed out to me that I shouldn't write you off out of hand and I hope we can put that behind us, though I'll admit I'm still not thrilled with how you handled things, and I would not be willing to give you another chance if you pulled something like that again."

Blaise winced but nodded. "Yeah, Mum kinda tore into me for that too. I'll admit I'm good at ambitious and cunning but subtlety is where I sometimes lose the plot. I shouldn't have held basically useless information over your head like that. I just… honestly we haven't made much headway at really being friends since last year, have we?" he asked and Harry reluctantly shook his head.

"No, we haven't. And to be fair a good part of that was because we didn't want to spread the number of people that knew about our bond, that was really the only thing we were specifically keeping from you. As long as you stop trying to pull crap like that, I think we might be able to see our way to actually building a real friendship in the future." Harry held out his hand and gave a mental sigh of relief when the usually stoic Slytherin smiled and accepted it in a firm handshake.

"I'll see you and the rest on the train then?"

Harry nodded and flashed the other boy a grin. "See you then, Blaise."

#####

On January 4th they headed to Kings Cross for the return trip to Hogwarts. Harry stared out the window as the Express rumbled it's way toward the school, his mind still spinning as his friends and bond mates chatted around him. Neville, Tracey, Susan, and Hannah were involved in a boisterous game of Exploding Snap while Daphne and Hermione both had their noses buried in a couple of very old books and Blaise sat in the corner closest to the door, his arms crossed over his chest as he dozed, despite the noise.

Harry looked away from the window and frowned at the worn leather covers. Two of the three volumes on Soul Bonds that they'd been given by the goblins. Hermione had quickly read through the first and handed it off to Daphne, which would then go to Susan before coming to him as they shifted their way down the line. As the girls were faster readers than he was he was content to wait his turn since after reading the first Hermione had declared it only moderately more useful than the tidbits of information they'd been able to discover before. At least these books had the benefit of being verified as authentic by the goblins.

Christmas day had been an even greater experience then the year before. First, Hermione's parents had joined them at the Boneyard in the morning to exchange gifts and they spent the entire day there with them. By the time Dinner came around the Lady Greengrass had attended without her husband and with her youngest daughter, Astoria. Astoria was a delight, more cheerful and emotive then Daphne tended to be and possessed of a seemingly insatiable curiosity. She was nearly a miniature copy of Daphne, physically, but otherwise the two sisters were vastly different.

It had saddened Harry when he realized why they were so different from each other. Astoria, as the younger sister, had not been subjected to the same training as Daphne. He couldn't be certain, but he was willing to bet that Daphne had most likely done everything she could to keep that focus on herself in order to spare her little sister whatever punishments she had suffered over the years.

Aside from the meeting at Gringotts, and with the Lady Zabini, the entire break was relatively relaxed, yet somehow, Harry still had new concerns to worry about. Daphne had seemed distracted at times over the break though no amount of questioning would get her to talk about it. On Christmas morning he had felt a sensation of intense surprise coming from Hermione before she and her parents had arrived at the Boneyard and even though he and Susan had both asked her about it she had brushed it off as nothing important and changed the subject. Even Neville seemed like he had something on his mind whenever he talked to the Longbottom Heir.

In fact, the only person that _didn't_ seem to have some concern was Susan, and she was just as confused by the other's behavior as he was. He gave himself a mental shake and decided to take a hint from Blaise and leaned back in his seat intent on catching a few winks. He still wasn't entirely sure what to think about Blaise's mother. She'd seemed to want to help, but for all he knew she had ulterior motives, and her advice over exposing their bond both made sense and filled him with trepidation at the same time. He'd decided to go out on a limb, however, and trust Amelia when she informed him that she would handle things and give them some options to choose from.

With that last thought he fell into a restless sleep that last until the train pulled into Hogsmead Station. He was groggy and less than ideal company as they made their way up to the castle for the returning feast, which went about as one might expect. They ate their meal, talking quietly amongst themselves and with those friends sitting near to them while the students at the nearby tables stared and whispered to each other.

Harry resisted the urge to sigh in exasperation, or to glare at them and simply did his best to ignore all of them.

Just before they went to bed Neville stopped him at the foot of the stairs.

"Harry, I'm going to do something tomorrow morning. I don't want to tell you what it is because I want your reaction to be genuine and don't want to influence you either. Just remember what we've been teaching you about House politics and react as you feel you need to. And whatever choice you make, I will always remain your friend, understand?"

Harry was confused, to say the least, but he nodded in silent agreement and then followed Neville up the stairs to their dorm. They changed for bed and Harry went through his Occlumency exercises as Amelia and Healer Gant kept encouraging him to do, before he slowly drifted off to sleep.

His dreams were unsettling and disjointed, but thankfully, he suffered none of his usual nightmares and actually got a decent number of hours rest out of it. He woke early, as usual, to find Neville already stirring in his own bed and the two of them quickly dressed in the dark before heading down stairs to meet the girls.

Two hours later saw them returning to a buzzing hive of activity that they largely ignored in favor of showers and dressing for the day.

"What is going on?" Harry finally asked as the five of them took their seats at the Gryffindor table. A low murmur of conversation rumbled through the large room as students scurried back and forth from table to table while groups of students from every year spoke in hushed whispers. The staring was even worse than it had been the night before.

"Not even back a day, eh, Potter? Just couldn't help yourself, could you?"

Harry groaned and turned to glare at Ernie Macmillan. "What're you on about now?" he asked.

"As if you don't already know," Ernie sneered, glaring hatefully at Harry.

"I don't, that's why I asked," Harry pointed out, which caused a few nervous laughs from those near enough to hear.

"Hey," Hermione cut in as she grabbed Harry's arm. "Looks like Dumbledore has an announcement to make."

At the Head Table, Dumbledore was standing to address the school and, slowly, silence fell as people noticed and brought it to others attention.

"Thank you," he said, once it was quiet. "Sometime last night, our fifth year Ravenclaw Prefects discovered a new message painted onto a wall near the entrance to the Ravenclaw Dormitories." He was forced to pause as a wave of frightened conversation swept through the student body, only continuing once it died down.

"Normally, I would not wish to worry you with this, but as rumor travels faster than anything yet observed in the natural world, I felt it best to wuell them before they started."

 _Too late,_ Harry thought in disgust.

"The exact wording of the message read, ' _Salazar's noble work will be completed. The school will be cleansed of its taint,'_ " he said and Harry jerked in surprise. "We are investigating this incident but would ask that all students exercise caution in these uncertain times. Do not walk the halls alone and, please, if you see or hear anything out of the ordinary, bring it to one of the schools Prefects or to a professor as quickly as possible."

He went on to list some new rules to follow but Harry had already tuned him out. He was more focused on a memory. A dark room with a large mirror and a serpentine face hissing at him.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he jerked, turning to find Neville standing expectantly behind him.

"Remember what I told you, okay?"

Harry nodded and watched, confused, as his friend walked up the center aisle to briefly speak to the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall. When he turned away to face the crowded hall full of students both professors wore pleased smiles.

"If I could have your attention again," the Headmaster called out. "Mister Longbottom wishes to say something."

Neville stood in the center of the table, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared at the assembled sea of faces. He'd expected to have to let off a cannon blast in order to get everyones attention, but as he'd turned, the Headmasters words were sufficient to have every eye fixed on him without his having to do anything. A case of nerves hit him, but he shoved them aside and glared out across the room.

"This has been a rough year, so far, hasn't it?" he asked, his voice carrying to every corner of the Hall. "Attacks in the night. Students being petrified in the halls by an unknown assailant."

"We know who's doing it, Longbottom!" a voice shouted from the Hufflepuff table, cutting Neville off. "What I want to know, is why is Potter still here? Are you all going to wait until he kills someone before you get rid of him?" Ernie shouted at the staff behind Neville.

"That's more than enough out of you," Neville snarled just as he hit Macmillan with a silencing charm. The crowd blinked in surprise as Neville's wand shot back up his sleeve. No one had even seen him draw it.

"You people disgust me," he sneered in a manner sufficient to make Snape proud. "With no evidence, no proof, you lay blame and insults at the feet of the one person in this castle that is the least deserving of it."

Neville's eyes flashed dangerously, contempt dripping from every word as he glared at each student in the room save for Harry and their friends.

"I'm here to tell you that it stops, right now."

"'Who do you think you are to tell us what to do, Longbottom?" Malfoy sneered. Harry noted, with some amusement, that his expression wasn't nearly as impressive as Neville's had been. "You're practically a squib yourself and shouldn't even be here with real witches and wizards."

Neville's smile could only be described as predatory, a baring of teeth that would have fit more on the snout of some feral animal than it did on the face of a twelve-year-old wizard.

"I'm so glad you asked that question, Heir Malfoy," he said as he lifted his right hand to shoulder height, the back facing toward his audience as a ring shimmered into view on his middle finger. From where Harry sat he could only tell that it was a heavy looking ring of gold with a dark blue stone in the center.

"I am Longbottom of Longbottom, Lord Neville Francis Longbottom and Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom," he roared, causing many in the room to jump in fright at the sudden booming voice. "I am descended from Vikings, and if you want to speak against a Lord of a Most Ancient and Noble House we can address your concerns with an honor duel, right here, right now, what say you, _Heir_ Malfoy?" The emphasis Neville placed on the word 'heir' brought attention to the fact that, socially, Neville now stood far above Dracoy Malfoy as a Head of House and an emancipated Lord in his own right.

Malfoy's complexion grew paler and paler as Neville spoke. When he'd finished Malfoy stood and spoke quietly, "no, Lord Longbottom, that won't be necessary." Each word looked as if they actually caused Malfoy physical pain as he bit them out, one after another. When he finished he sat back down and Neville smirked.

"Then kindly be silent, Heir Malfoy," he said and turned his attention back to the rest of the Hall. "House Longbottom has always stood for the Light. My parents, both Aurors, were tortured into insanity by members of Voldemort's inner circle," he said, ignoring the shrieks and screams of fear that accompanied the hated name. "Does anyone here believe that I or my family would _ever_ support the Dark?"

Heads shook violently around the room. They were seeing a new Neville Longbottom for the first time, most of the school finally looking past the shy, quiet boy, and seeing the Lord he was becoming and already the views of many people were shifting.

"Lord Potter," Neville called, "might I have a word with you?"

Harry started, surprised to find himself getting dragged into Neville's show, but, at a prod from Susan, he stood and walked to the front of the room, making sure that his own House Ring was visible on his finger.

"Lord Longbottom?" he asked when he stopped a few feet away from his friend.

"Lord Potter, last year on the train during our first trip to school I informed you that our two Houses had a long history together, did I not?"

"You did, Lord Longbottom," Harry acknowledged.

"The Alliance between House Longbottom and House Potter has lain dormant for more than ten years. I would see us renew that great tradition, what say you?"

Harry fought back a grin and nodded, gravely. "I, Lord Harry James Potter, say, 'Aye', Lord Longbottom, and high time as well."

Neville pulled up his right sleeve, exposing the black wand holster strapped to his forearm which he removed and held his hand out to Harry who hid a wince and mimicked his actions. Luckily, only the professors sitting at the Head Table were in a position to see the half a dozen scars around the outside of Harry's forearm.

They clasped hands in a warriors grip, each grasping the others forearm midway between the wrist and elbow.

"I, Lord Neville Francis Longbottom, do hereby swear on my life and my magic to always remain true to my friend and my ally, Lord Harry James Potter. I swear to stand by his side and that our two families shall work for the betterment of our world, so I say, so mote it be."

Harry froze as some of the professors quickly rose to their feet in shock and murmurs swept through the crowd. That was _not_ the oath to ally two families to each other.

"Lord Potter-"

"Silence!"

Every eye but Neville's and Harry's turned toward Daphne as she cut Dumbledore off and stared at her in utter shock.

"My apologies, Headmaster, but an oath has been given, and until Lord Potter responds no one can interfere, unless you wish to risk the life of Lord Longbottom?"

Silence fell at that as everyone returned their attention to the two Lords standing at the front of the room.

For their part, Harry and Neville stared into each others eyes and had yet to look away. Harry's heart was racing. Did Neville know what he'd just done? He had to. There was no way he didn't. All the possible responses and ways he could screw this up ripped through Harry's mind. As panic began to grip him a calming tidal wave of soothing emotions swept over him and he turned his head.

At the Gryffindor table, his girls were standing, their hands linked together as all three of them gave him a small smile and simultaneous nods. He nodded back and returned his attention to his friend.

"I, Lord Harry James Potter, do accept the offer of friendship and alliance, as spoken by Lord Neville Francis Longbottom. I swear by my life and my magic to return that loyalty with everything I have. Neville Longbottom is my friend, my brother-in-arms. Where a Longbottom goes, a Potter will always stand beside him should it be within my power, so I say, so mote it be."

As the last word left his mouth there was a brilliant flash of light at their clasped hands and the castle itself shook as a tone rang through the air as if an enormous bell had just been struck a monumental blow.

"Got any more surprises, Nev?" Harry muttered as they replaced their wand holsters. "Because I might need a calming draught first if you do."

Neville grinned and winked at Harry. "Just one more, but it won't be so public. We'll deal with it later," he muttered as students started to leave the Hall for their first classes of the day amidst a hum of fervent conversation.

"Lord Potter, Lord Longbottom, I wonder if I might have a word with you both in my office?"

"Does this word have anything to do with the oath we just publicly swore?" Neville asked as they turned to face the Headmaster who had quietly approached them.

"It does, Lord Longbottom."

"Then we must respectfully decline. We have a free period and would like to spend some time discussing the particulars of our newly re-formed alliance before transfiguration later this morning."

Dumbledore blinked. "I'm afraid I must insist," he said, his usual grandfatherly tone being replaced by something far more stern.

"You are our Headmaster inside these walls, Professor," Neville said. "As our oath to each other and between our families has no bearing on our education, then the Minor House of Dumbledore has no business with two Lords of Most Ancient and Noble Houses."

With that said, he turned and walked away, Harry falling into step beside him as they left a dumbfounded Headmaster in their wake. The girls fell in around them when they stopped at the Gryffindor table to grab their bags and the group left the Hall, following Neville who entered a nearby classroom where he dropped his bag on the floor and sank into one of the student desks, his hands shaking violently while Susan closed the door behind them.

"Sweet merciful Merlin," Neville groaned. "Holy crap that was nerve wracking."

Harry blinked in surprise, feeling a similar degree of shock coming from his girls.

"Nev?" he asked, hesitantly. "Are you okay, Mate?"

"Just… just give me a minute." He took in several deep, gasping breaths, his fingers clutching the edge of the desk in a white knuckled grip. "Holy crap, I really just snubbed Albus Doumbledore," he breathed out after taking several minutes to pull himself together. "Gods, Harry. Thank you, so much for understanding what I was doing."

"Nev, I _barely_ figured it out. A little warning next time would be nice, eh?" Harry told him with a grin to take any possible sting out of his words.

"I didn't want to influence your choice."

"What was that all about?" Hermione asked. "Daphne and Susan haven't covered oaths like that with me yet."

"It was a gamble, and a performance," Daphne told her. "The oath Neville offered goes far beyond the usual oath of alliance. If he'd wanted, Harry could have accepted Neville's oath without offering one of his own in return and House Longbottom would basically have become a servant House to House Potter."

"I trusted Harry not to do that, though. And by doing it in the Great Hall, in front of the whole school, we sent them a message."

"What kind of message?" Harry asked, a little unsure on that part.

"A powerful one," Neville told him. "Look, Harry, you're still not comfortable with being a Lord. You don't have the arrogance and command down quite yet except for in certain formal circumstances. People like Macmillan had forgotten they've been insulting Lord Potter. The message is that all future insults will be perceived as a direct attack against two Lords of Most Ancient and Noble Houses." Neville grinned at them. "Most people will think twice in the future before blaming Harry for any of this Heir of Slytherin crap from now on."

"Neville," Harry said as a slow grin spread across his face, "that was positively Slytherin of you."

Neville bowed from his seat at the desk, a smug smirk twisting his own lips as the girls all rolled their eyes.

"Careful patting yourselves on the back, boys," Hermione muttered. "You might pull something."

"Hermione, have you thought about what I asked?" Neville said suddenly and the rest of them looked back and forth between the two, confusion welling up once again.

Hermione, for her part, was worrying at her lower lip with her teeth again and had a thoughtful expression on her face.

"I have been thinking about it, yes. I'm not really sure what the point is though."

"What's going on?" Harry asked.

"I offered to place Hermione under House Protection," Neville explained. "Basically, if she accepts, then she and her parents would be under the banner of House Longbottom. What the point to that is," he added to Hermione, "is the next time anyone tries to pull any crap or pick on you or even attack you, which we all know Malfoy and some of his ilk are eventually gearing up towards, I would be able to act on your behalf. Right now, if someone attacked you, Harry and I would leap to your defense, you know that. But if you're under House Protection I'd have more legal options on what I could do in order to help you and your parents out. Also, you wouldn't technically be considered muggleborn anymore, at least not legally. You'd be at least halfblood and considered a part of House Longbottom. Right now, Dumbledore is your magical guardian acting in loco parentis, but if you were under House Protection I'd be your magical guardian and could act in your stead if need be."

Harry nodded along as he listened. "Why did you offer, out of curiosity?"

"The rest of us have more legal rights and protections than she does in the wizarding world. It's not perfect, but I figured I could add a little extra layer of protection for her, just by people knowing that she's protected by my House."

"It's not a bad idea," Daphne said after Neville finished his explanation. "Harry could do the same but with our bond… well we don't want to complicate matters. It's not the same as being adopted into the Longbottom family or anything like that, but it could go that far in the future, _if_ you guys wanted to."

Hermione thought for several minutes longer while the others just waited as patiently as they could. "I appreciate the offer, Neville, I really do. But, honestly, I need a little more time to think about it."

Neville offered her a smile. "That's understandable, Hermione. No worries. You just let me know as soon as you've made a decision, okay?"

#####

The rest of the day they were still watched and whispered about in low voices, but the previously angry and suspicious looks sent in Harry's direction had become more curious and considering, and that, Harry considered to be a decided improvement over how things _had_ been going. He'd also penned off a letter during lunch that he sent to Amelia, letting her know of the newly re-formed alliance with House Longbottom. He figured she would need to know and might even have some advice for him on what they could do going forward.

Harry stayed a bit longer that night over dinner than usual, lingering over his meal and pleased with the abated sense of hostility toward him, and as such, he found himself making his way alone back to the tower. It was as he turned down a darker corridor when he stepped into a large puddle of water that spread across the width of the hallway that he realized he was standing outside the loo where Filch's cat was attacked.

Inside the room he could hear the sound of someone crying and he cautiously approached and pushed open the door. "Hello?" he called. "Is everything all right?"

A moment later he stepped fully into the room and the door swung shut behind him, leaving the hall empty and quiet with only the flickering torchlight reflecting off of the inch deep puddle of water.


	26. Conversations and Confessions

**Author's Note: The Rotten Writer, returning once again with another chapter of Soul Scars.**

 **Gettting down to the wire here, gang. Next chapter will be our trip down into the Chamber and this chapter pushes us further toward that goal. I've also included some fun fuzzy moments that I think everyone will enjoy and even a surprise or two that some have already called but I think might surprise a FEW readers.**

 **I'm looking forwared to hearing what you guys all think about it. Not gonna drag things out and leave you guys hanging, so let's just jump right in everybody.**

 **Disclaimer: I am still a poor boy that cannot hope to ever own the Harry Potter rights or frachise. I'm making nothing from doing this but a bit of fun and that's all I'm looking for.**

 **Now, moving on to chapter 25 of Soul Scars!**

Soul Scars Part Two

The Darkness Within

by,

Rtnwriter

"What is it?"

"It's a diary."

"I can _see_ that."

"Well, if you knew, why'd you ask?"

"It's got to be more than _just_ a diary, right?"

"What makes you think that, Susan?"

"Someone tried pretty hard to get rid of it, didn't they?"

"I'm not sure attempting to flush it down a toilet is really trying very hard, but I can understand your point."

"Myrtle said that someone threw it into her loo and she was upset about it so she caused the flood that I stepped into out in the hall."

"You _did_ clean your shoes, right, Harry?"

"Yes, Daphne, I made sure to hit them with every cleaning charm I could think of."

"Getting off topic…"

"Sorry, Hermione."

Harry leaned back in his seat, a puzzled frown on his face as he stared at the simple looking black, leather bound diary where it say on a low coffee table between them. The five friends were in their usual seats in the Griffindor common room, discussing the strange story Harry had just shared with them about his encounter with Moaning Myrtle after dinner the night before.

"Does anyone else think it's odd that, _that_ loo was chosen to try to throw this thing away?" he asked, interrupting Hermione's attempt at using a revealing charm, on the book.

"How so?" Daphne asked, her eyes regarding him steadily.

"Well, that was where Missus Norris was attacked."

"True," Susan admitted. "But that could just be a coincidence. No one ever really goes to that loo because of Myrtle."

"It would be a fairly convenient place, then, to try to dispose of something you don't want others to find.," Neville offered.

Harry frowned again. "I don't know, my gut is telling me there's something fishy going on here."

Neville gave Harry an incredulous look. "Your gut talks to you?" he asked, and Harry and Hermione couldn't help chuckling at the expression on their friend's face.

"It's just a figure of speech, Neville," Hermione explained. "He means that he has an intuition or instinct, as opposed to an opinion based on logical analysis."

"Oh… why didn't he just say that? Or that he had a feeling?"

"Couldn't begin to tell you," Hermione said, grinning at Neville.

"I am still sitting right here, you know," Harry whined.

Hermione and Neville both smirked at him and spoke in perfect unison, "we know."

"Children, we're getting even further off track here."

"Sorry, Daphne," all three chorused at her and she rolled her eyes at their antics.

"Basic point here, is something about this feels… weird to me," Harry said. "But at the same time there doesn't appear to be a lot that we can honestly do about it." He picked up the book and carefully examined it. "I mean, this is a plain, blank diary that used to belong to a T.M. Riddle."

"Riddle?"

The five friends looked up to find Ron standing just off to the side, a large platter of pastries in his hands.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to hear anything, I was just coming to see if you wanted a pastry," he added, holding up the platter as a way of explanation.

"No, thanks, Ron. What was that you said?" Harry asked. Despite giving the youngest Weasley male a chance, Ron hadn't spent an exceptional amount of time with the rest of them, usually only hanging out during some of their study sessions, and even then it was only just before the assignments were due. Also, after the dueling club incident he'd been far more wary of Harry.

"That name you mentioned, Riddle. There's an award in the Trophy room for Special Service to the school that was given to a Tom Marvalo Riddle."

The five friends shared a dumbfounded look.

"How do you know that, Ronald?" Hermione asked, hesitantly.

Ron's face twisted in disgust. "Well, remember the detentions we got, because of the slug incident?" he asked Harry, who simply nodded. "I was polishing the trophies at my detention when I belched out a few slugs and they got slime all over that award. Must have polished that thing thirty times before it was clean. Don't think I'll ever forget that name, now."

"Do you know what this Riddle did to earn the award?"

Ron shrugged at Daphne's question. "No idea, it didn't say, but it was given to him about fifty years ago."

"My gran told me over the break that the Chamber was opened before, fifty years ago," Neville told them in a thoughtful tone of voice.

"All right, that's too many coincidences for me," Harry muttered. "Amelia said that enough coincidences indicates a pattern. Dumbledore admitted the Chamber was opened once before, the night Colin was attacked."

"Neville's Gran confirms it happened fifty years ago," Susan offered.

"Now we've got a blank diary that belonged to a student that, fifty years ago, was given an award for special services to the school," Hermione added.

"Think maybe he caught whoever was opening it before?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe, Nev," he said. "Either way I think we need to find out more about this Riddle guy. Do they have back issues of the Prophet in the library?"

"Well, yes, but not back that far. That's too long ago for them to have kept them," Daphne said. "We could try writing to the Prophet directly, see if maybe they'd still have those issues."

"Worth a shot, I guess," Neville muttered. "I'll send them a letter in the morning, but right now, I'm heading to bed."

The rest of them stood and Harry slipped the diary he'd found into his pocket as they all agreed it was time for bed, leaving Ron standing there, still holding his tray of pastries and looking more than a little confused by his house mates behavior.

#####

For the next few weeks, as January bled toward February, the diary was all but forgotten. Homework piled higher and higher as well as ramping tension around the school. Harry had the distinct impression that not everyone believed him to be innocent, but at the least they'd stopped acting as if they expected him to suddenly start cursing students in the halls between classes.

Quidditch practice ramped up even more, which also cut into the available time they had to look into the diary. It wasn't until the first week of February when Harry had a breakthrough that was completely accidental.

Neville and the girls along with Blaise, Tracey, and Hannah, were studying in the Room of Requirement when the door suddenly burst open, startling most of them as Harry hurried into the room and threw himself into a chair in the House neutral common room they'd taken to using when they were all together.

"I figured out why the diary is blank," he said, a broad grin on his face as he looked at the others.

"Um… because no one ever wrote in it?" Blaise offered as if Harry had lost his mind.

"Nope!" Harry said, popping the 'p' at the end, loudly.

They watched him expectantly for a few moments but he simply grinned at them and said nothing while he bounced slightly in his seat.

Finally, Daphne sighed in exasperation. "Harry?" she asked. "Why is the diary blank?"

"So glad you asked, Daph," he chirped, ignoring how Daphne scowled at the hated nickname and the rest of them rolled their eyes at him. "It's blank because it absorbs the ink."

They blinked at that, confused by the strange answer.

"Wait… what?" Neville asked.

"Yeah, that's kind of how I felt," Harry admitted with a laugh. "I was in the library earlier-"

"Why?" Hermione interrupted. "We have access to all the books we could need here."

"Erm…" Harry froze, looking guilty for a moment before quickly waving her question away. "Just a little project I'm working on," he said. "Anyway, I was digging around in my bag when I knocked over my ink bottle…"

#####

"Son of a…" Harry cursed under his breath as ink spread throughout his bag. It took him nearly ten minutes to wipe up as much of the ink as he could and separate out what was salvageable and what wasn't.

When he pulled the diary from where he'd been carrying it at the very bottom of his bag, he paused. The cover was drenched in royal blue ink, but the pages inside were as pristinely blank as ever, no sign of ink at all. He quickly vanished the ink with his wand and set the diary on the table he'd taken near the back of the library.

Curiously, he pulled out a new bottle of ink and a quill and, dipping his quill into the bottle of emerald green ink, he slashed a single line across the first page then watched for a few moments as the ink gleamed wetly in the sunlight coming in from the windows set high above.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth as the line of ink vanished, as if it was being sucked into the page. Excitedly, he dipped his quill again and carefully wrote, "Hello?" then waited as the ink was absorbed once again.

He practically bounced in his seat when new words, written in a sure, elegant hand, appeared on the page briefly before vanishing again.

 _Hello. Who is this?_

Harry wrote quickly, but as carefully as he could. "My name is Harry Potter."

 _Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?_

As the words faded Harry thought for a moment before he shrugged and decided to write the truth. "Someone tried to flush it down a toilet."

 _Well, it is a good thing, then, that I chose to record my memories through a method far more lasting then ink. I always knew there would be some that would not want my diary to be read._

"What do you mean? Why wouldn't someone want people to read your diary, Tom?"

 _I preserved my memories in this diary. Memories of terrible things that happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

"That's where I am!" Harry wrote, nearly overturning his ink bottle in his haste. "It's happening again. There have already been three attacks and people are scared. Do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?"

 _Of course I know. We were told it was a legend, that it wasn't real. That was a lie. In my fifth year the Chamber was opened and several students were attacked. Finally, one was killed. They were talking about closing the school when I managed to capture the one responsible and he was expelled._

 _They gave me a nice, shiny award with my name on it and a pat on the head and forbade me from telling anyone what happened. The Headmaster, Professor Dippet, was so ashamed that it happened on his watch that he was determined to core it up. Everyone was told that the death was due to a freak accident and everyone just forgot about it._

 _But I knew better. I knew it could happen again, especially since the one with the power to open the Chamber was never imprisoned. So, I created this diary, hopefully, so I could held when, and if, the Chamber were ever to be re-opened._

"No one knows who is doing it, this time," Harry scribbled eagerly. "You said you caught them, last time, who was it?"

 _I could show you, if you want._

Harry paused at that and looked up thoughtfully.

"Holy crap!" he blurted out, jumping in surprise when he found a pair of large, silverly blue eyes staring at him.

"Hello, Harry Potter," Luna said in less then her usual breezy tone. Her voice sounded dull, almost lifeless. "I am sorry if I startled you."

"That's okay, Luna," he told her, quickly calming from his momentary fright. "I just didn't hear you come up." He blinked and looked more closely at her. She didn't appear to have her book bag, but her class books, parchment and some ink bottles were held precariously in her arms. Her tie was missing, behind one ear she'd tucked her wand and behind the other was a bent and battered looking quill. Leaning over the table, he looked down, and he could just see her bare toes sticking out from under the edge of her robes.

"Um… Luna? Is everything okay?" he asked, awkwardly.

"Yes, Harry Potter, everything is fine, thank you for asking."

He looked back up to her face, sharply, when he noticed a sudden change in her voice. She didn't speak in her usual, airy, distracted way, nor did she use the dull lifeless tone of a few minutes prior. Her eyes, now fixed with a strange intensity on the diary where it sat on the table looked just as her voice had sounded. Sharp. Focused.

Nervously, Harry casually pulled his Charms textbook over so that it covered the diary.

"Well, that's good," he said, not believing her for a moment but too worried about the diary to risk asking her about it.

A few moments later she suddenly seemed to shake herself and turned to walk away without saying anything else. Harry stared after her, concern etched on his face, but he pushed his worry aside for the moment, resolving to talk to her later.

He looked around, and, once he was certain he was alone, he uncovered the diary again and looked at it just as some new words swam into view on the page.

 _Harry? Are you still there?_

"Yes, I'm still here. Sorry, a friend was here and I had to wait for them to leave."

 _Understandable. As I was saying, I could show you when I caught him, no need to just take my word for it._

Harry hesitated for a moment before he carefully wrote a single word, "Okay."

#####

"And that was when things got weird," Harry said to the rest of the room. Every one of his friends were staring at him in a mixture of shock and curiosity.

" _That's_ when it got weird?" Blaise burst out. "What do you call everything else that happened?"

Harry shrugged. "Tuesday?" he offered nonchalantly and flashed Blaise a cheeky grin.

"Harry," Daphne admonished, "quit teasing Blaise and continue your story."

"Right, sorry, where was I?"

"Weird," Susan offered.

"Oh, right. So, I felt like I was falling for a minute, and I suddenly found myself standing in the Headmaster's office. It looked a little different but it was still the same place. There was this old man I eventually found out was Armando Dippet."

"He was the previous Headmaster, before Dumbledore took the position," Hermione offered as she saw a few blank looks from around the room.

"Right, anyway, there's a knock at the door, and this boy came in. Sixteen, handsome, I guess," Harry shrugged. "Kinda reminded me a bit of Diggory, just not as friendly. Anyway, he and the Headmaster talk for a bit and he's asking if he could stay at the school over the summer but the Headmaster won't let him because of the attacks."

"Why did he want to stay at the school?"

"He was an orphan. Muggle father that apparently abandoned him and his mum before he was even born and his mum died giving birth to him. He really didn't like the orphanage that he lived at."

There were mutters and nods around the room at that.

"So, Riddle is sent away and he goes wandering the halls and eventually runs into a younger Dumbledore of all people. Lemme tell you, it was _weird_ seeing Dumbledore with auburn colored hair and beard. After a minute or so Dumbledore told Riddle that he should wander the halls alone and they went their separate ways.

"Riddle went down to the dungeon that is our Potions classroom today and hid inside with the door cracked so he could watch the hall. After probably an hour waiting we finally hear someone coming down the hall and Riddle slips out to follow them. About five minutes of that and we find third year _Hagrid_ trying to sneak some creature into a box!"

"Hagrid?" Neville burst out. "There's no way that Hagrid is the Hair of Slytherin," he insisted and they all nodded along.

"Right, Hagrid wouldn't hurt a fly, much less actually kill another student," Hermione said.

"Well…" Daphne trailed off hesitantly. "I know he'd never hirt anyone on purpose, but he _does_ love dangerous creatures. Is it possible whatever creature he had might have been attacking students without him knowing?"

Harry vehemently shook his head. "No way. I looked it up." He reached into his bag and pulled out a thick, heavy book that he opened to a marked page and handed it off to Hermione. "I didn't get a great look, it was dark, but what Hagrid had, had a hairy, low slung body, several legs and eyes and pincers. The only thing I could find that fit that description was-"

"Acromantula?" Hermione asked as she read the entry.

"Right, a giant spider. Spiders don't petrify their victims, and if this one did, there would still be puncture wounds and likely they'd find spider silk around, but there's been nothing."

"So, do you think Riddle was wrong? I mean, Hagrid did have a monster, but it just wasn't him that was attacking the students?" Hermione asked, passing the book along so the others could read the entry on Acromantula.

"I think Riddle framed Hagrid. I think he was so desperate not to go back to that orphanage that he was willing to blame an innocent in order to avoid it."

"But, that doesn't make sense," Hannah interjected. "So he blames Hagrid, but if the attacks hadn't stopped, then he'd have been proven wrong."

"Unless he knew that the attacks _would_ stop," Daphne pointed out, thoughtfully. "You said he went straight to that dungeon and waited, right, Harry?"

He nodded, pleased that someone else had the same thought he did.

"Then he followed Hagrid and waited to catch him with his giant spider."

"And, he either got very lucky, and whoever was responsible for the attacks just decided to stop after they blamed Hagrid, or Riddle was the one attacking the students in the first place," Hermione cut in as she caught up to Harry's and Daphne's suspicious way of thinking.

"Right," Harry said. "Really, both option are _possible_ , but right now I'm inclined to think that Riddle was the Heir and he framed Hagrid."

"But that doesn't explain why it's happening now," Blaise pointed out. "Riddle isn't here."

Harry shrugged. "I'll admit, I haven't figured that part out yet."

"We should take this to a professor," Hermione muttered. "Isn't this exactly the kind of thing that Amelia told us _not_ to do?"

"Yeah, but what are we supposed to tell them? We have an idea with no proof or evidence to support our conclusion," Susan pointed out.

"What about McGonagall?" Blaise asked. "She is you Head of House and-"

"No."

Every eye turned to Harry as he cut Blaise off. The single word wasn't overtly angry but there was an undercurrent of steel in his voice that was unmistakable.

"I don't want to deal with her right now," he continued after a minute passed where everyone just stared at him.

"We could take it to her, Harry," Susan offered.

He considered that, staring at the wall opposite him for a moment before shaking his head. "No, not yet. I want to see if I can get any more information our of Riddle first. Let's give it a week before we turn it over."

"Are you sure that's a good-"

"Hermione, I know we've been working on my learning that I can trust the adults around me to actually help, now, instead of what I've dealt with before. But even more than I hated how little help I got, I hate more being treated like a child. Hell, I don't think I've ever really _been_ a child. Can you honestly tell me that once we hand it over they'll tell us anything? Or will they just pat us on the head and send us off to play?"

She frowned and sat back in her seat. "No," she admitted, reluctantly.

"No, they'll treat us like mushrooms, keeping us in the dark and feeding us bullshit. After all the insults and dirty looks I've dealt with this year… I just… I need to understand why."

"Okay, Harry," Daphne muttered. "But only a week, understand?"

He nodded, giving her a warm smile. He could feel that they understood. They didn't like it, but they understood.

"So, what was this project you were working on in the library?" Hermione asked, an eager glint in her eye. "Maybe I can help."

#####

"She's relentless, Neville, I swear she's like that Terminator bloke in that movie Dan was telling us about last summer."

"Why don't you just tell them?"

"Then it wouldn't be a surprise." Harry sat hunched in a seat in the Library, nervously looking around them for any signs of bushy brown hair while Neville just smirked at his friend.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Harry accused.

"Little bit, yes," Neville admitted. "You'll face giant three head dogs and Voldemort himself, but a thirteen-year-old girl has had you hiding in the Library for the last week."

"It's Valentines Day, Nev," Harry burst out. "I don't know where we're going or where we'll end up, but I had to do _something_ for them. Hermione is not making it easy, though. She keeps bugging me about that project I mentioned."

"Well, why'd you mention it?"

"I panicked!"

Harry groaned and dropped his head into his hands as Neville went from smirking to outright laughing and Harry lifted his head to scowl at him.

"Come on, Chuckles," he grumbled. "They're about to serve lunch and Hermione will finally be able to stop hounding me."

He led a still laughing Neville to the Great Hall to find his girls already waiting for them and slid into a seat between Hermione on his right and Daphne on his left. Susan had decided to sit on Hermione's other side.

"What's wrong with him?" Daphne asked as a still snickering Neville sat across from Harry between Tracey and Hannah.

Harrys eyes narrowed at his friend. "He's just having a laugh at my expense," he groused.

They settled in to eat, Harry ignoring the frequent looks from the witch on his right as he occasionally glanced up at the ceiling. Finally, a flash of white caught his attention.

"Thank Merlin," he muttered, smiling as Hedwig landed on the table in front of him with a package wrapped in brown paper tied to her leg. He could feel intense curiosity from the girls, as well as more than a few curious looks from the other students in the hall, but he ignored it all in favor of removing the package and fawning some attention on his first girl. Hedwig preened under the attention and eventually left the table to perch on his shoulder as he carefully opened the package.

"Hannah?" he asked, getting the Hufflepuff's attention. "Happy Valentines Day." He held out a small box of Honeydukes chocolates, along with a single yellow rose. "I was told that a yellow rose is said to represent friendship and I wanted you to know how much your friendship means to me," he added as she took the items from his hand, looking quite shocked by the gesture.

"It's beautiful, Harry. Thank you," Hannah murmured quietly and offered him a shy smile.

He smiled back before removing more chocolates that he handed to each of his girls along with nine roses, three for each of them. Each had a vibrant red and white rose braided together with a third rose, but for each the third was of a different color.

"I thought a lot about these," he said, nervously. "I considered a lot of the conversations we've had since we all met and what I've learned about each of you." That had the girls looking slightly nervous but he pressed on. "The red and white roses, when given together, are said to represent unity, that seemed appropriate, for us. Daphne, your pink rose mean appreciation and grace. I appreciate everything you've done for me and I've always admired your grace under pressure." Daphne flushed brightly but said nothing. She only smiled and let her feelings across their bond communicated what word's couldn't.

"Susan," he said, turning to look across Hermione at the red head. "The cream rose represents charm and thoughtfulness. You're always thinning of others and you make me want to try harder at whatever I do, just to make you happy."

Tears glimmered in Susan's eyes and she reached around the girl between them to squeeze his hand.

"Hermione," he said, finally turning his attention to the very first of them that he'd met, even if it was by only a few minutes. He leaned close and lowered his voice so only she could hear. "We've talked a lot in the last year and a half, and you've mentioned how you were treated by other kids growing up. I haven't mentioned until now because I didn't want to embarrass you, but I've seen a few of your nightmares too. You've had a lot of people talking about your looks over the years, qqand how you're too focused on your studies, but looks aren't the only thing that makes a person beautiful.

"The burgundy rose means unconscious beauty, and that's what you are. You don't need perfect hair and makeup or any of that. You are beautiful without effort, and I really hope that, one day, you'll learn to trust and believe that."

He pulled away, giving her a warm smile and before he knew it he found her arms wrapped tightly around him, her face buried in his shoulder as she tried to squeeze the life out of him. He returned the hug as best he could, gently rubbing her back and whispering quietly to her until she pulled back and smiled broadly at him, even as she wiped tears from her eyes.

The girls tucked away the chocolates in their robes and carefully placed their roses on the table as they finished eating. All four of them were blushing brightly as they ate, the girls occasionally touching their flowers, as if unable to believe they were real. In their distracted state, none of them noticed the envious looks from a large number of the other female students or the sullen glares from the many males that Harry had just made to look bad with his simple, but thoughtful, gifts.

Neville noticed, and nudged Tracey and Hannah, indicating the staring students with a jerk of his head. Both girls glanced around, noted the looks, and gave Neville a silent nod of understanding. They would be doing their level best to protect their friends.

"Why didn't you get a rose?" Hannah asked Tracey in a whisper as they left the Great Hall a few minutes later and the brunette Slytherin grinned impishly at her.

"Harry's a smart boy," she said. "He gave me mine this morning where no one could see. He didn't want to draw attention from the rest of my house."

Hannah laughed. "Damn, I didn't even think of that. He's very thoughtful at times, isn't he?"

"Yeah, but you know as well as I do who will have his full attention eventually. None of those little girls in there ever had a chance."

#####

February faded into March and there was no further word or activity from the Heir of Slytherin. On Valentines day, there had been one other event that happened, which put Harry in a foul mood for days afterward. One of the dwarves dressed as cupids that had been hired by Lockhart accosted Harry in the hall between classes.

He'd tried to escape, oh, how he'd tried, but the acerbic little creature was surprisingly strong. Harry's book bag was torn open in the ensuing struggle, spilling its contents across the floor before Harry found himself on his stomach on the ground, the dwarf sitting on his back as it recited a ridiculous and embarrassing poem.

It wasn't until that evening when the girls volunteered to take the diary to Professor McGonagall that he discovered the truth. When his bag spilled in the hall, someone had seized the opportunity.

The diary had been stolen.

The girls still went and told their Head of House everything they could about the missing airy, but so far, nothing had come of it.

By the time their Easter holiday came upon them, there was something new to occupy their attention. They had to choose their elective classes that they would begin taking in their third year.

Ron tried to talk Harry and Neville into taking the easiest courses, but both scoffed at the idea of Divination.

"It's pointless as a class," Neville explained. "You either have the Gift, or you don't. I don't understand why it's even offered."

"Maybe they're hoping some people will discover a talent for it if they're exposed to it?" Harry offered as an explanation. Neville shrugged and signed up for Runes and Care of magical Creatures. Harry did the same, but also included Arithmancy to his course load for the next year after reading an explanation of the course goals and possible uses.

Daphne and Susan, after much consideration, signed up for the same classes as Harry while Hermione put her name down for all of them, something that Harry wasn't really sure was a good idea, but he wasn't going to try to tell Hermione what she should or shouldn't do.

The next Quidditch match was going to be against Hufflepuff and Wood was as fanatical as ever, pushing the team harder and harder during practice, which left Harry so exhausted that on those days he was usually barely able to do his evening Occlumency practice before falling asleep each night.

When the day of the match finally came, a week after Daphne's birthday, which had been celebrated quietly in the Room with just their closest friends, Harry was more than ready to be done with it. The rest of the team agreed and felt that, if the game had been scheduled any later, the twins might have ended up locking Wood in a broom closet, just to get some peace and quiet.

They woke the day of the match to brilliant sunshine and a light, refreshing breeze. Harry took the match as an excuse to skip the usual morning training and actually have a bit of a lie in for a change which had him feeling more rested than he could remember feeling for some time.

"Perfect Quidditch conditions," Wood gushed over breakfast, which had Harry rolling his eyes as he tuned out the rest of his Captains ramblings as he dutifully ate his breakfast. His eyes traveled around the Hall as he ate and wondered which of the students now possessed Riddle's diary. It irked him that he'd lost the diary to begin with, and thus, any further opportunity to investigate it.

Amelia had been less than pleased when he'd finally told her about it, he remembered with a wince. The letter she'd sent had been stern and filled with disappointment and after everything she had already done for him, he really hated to disappoint her. Thankfully, the girls had been too polite to tell him they'd told him so.

As he left the Great Hall that morning with neville and the girls to go and collect his Quidditch things an ongoing concern reared it's head and Harry paused, one foot on the bottom step of the marble staircase, his head title to the side as he listened.

 _Kill this time… let me rip… let me tear…_

"The voice," he hissed, looking over his shoulder. "I just heard it again."

Nevilled looked worried, but the girls were all nodding, their eyes wide. Hermione suddenly clapped a hand to her forehead.

"Merlin's beard," she blurted out. "I must be going daft. Harry, I think I just figured something out! Oh, the Room is too far, I've got to get to the Library!"

She started to sprint up the stairs but Harry reached out and snagged her arm before she could get away.

"Are you nuts?" he snapped. "It's dangerous, we'll all go."

"No, you've got your game."

"This is more important than Quidditch, Hermione!"

"Harry, I'll go with her," Neville offered. "I agree, the game isn't important, but you know the rest of the House would disagree. We just got them to rethink you being the Heir, you don't need to piss them off by missing the match."

"But-"

"It's just the Library. I'll help watch her back and we'll meet you at the pitch."

Reluctantly, Harry let go of Hermione's arm and she and Neville hurried off, leaving Harry staring after them with Daphne and Susan, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Eventually, Harry shook himself back into motion and they rushed off to the tower where he changed into his uniform and collected his broom. Within twenty minutes after Harry first heard that awful voice again the three of them were making their way down the Grand Staircase and into the entrance hall. A sensation of fear tinged with elation suddenly bloomed in his chest and Harry grinned, glancing at the girls on either side of him.

"Seems like Hermione found what she was looking for," he said.

"She'll tell us all about it after the game," Susan offered. "Focus on that for now, Harry. We don't want you getting hurt out there, again."

"Hey," he cried in, mostly, feigned insult. "It's not my fault that I've got a crazed house-" he cut off mid sentence and staggered as a sudden flash of pain ripped through his head.

Barely, he was aware that both girls reacted similarly, Susan letting out a pained cry as something was abruptly and painfully _ripped_ from them. Agony didn't begin to describe it and, thankfully, the sensation didn't last for long as they slumped to the ground, consciousness fleeing, leaving them lying on the floor just outside the Great Hall.

#####

Ice blue eyes flew open and Daphne bolted upright into a sitting position as panic gripped her and she stared ahead with unseeing eyes.

"You're all right, Miss Greengrass," a voice said and a hand took ahold of one of hers, squeezing it gently. A goblet was pressed to her lips and she obligingly swallowed without thinking. She didn't even taste the calming draught, but it's effects were felt rapidly and she blinked several times, the Hospital Wing swimming into focus around her.

The antiseptic smells of the wing assaulted her nose, as well as the comforting scents of soap and broomstick polish that she associated with Harry. Honeysuckle was barely detectable as well. Low, murmured conversation surrounded her and she turned her head as Madam Pomfrey bustled around her.

Amelia was standing nearby, her face like a thundercloud as she spoke with the headmaster in a fierce undertone. In the bed next to hers, Susan was sitting up, staring blankly ahead with tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks and Harry sat in the chair between their beds, one hand tightly clasping one of Susan's and the other still holding her own.

"Daphne?"

Woodenly, she turned to her left to find her mother sitting in another chair beside her, her eyes filled with concern.

"Mama?" she asked, too distraught to be embarrassed by how much like a child she sounded in that moment.

"I'm here, baby," her mother whispered, scooting her chair closer to the bed even as she reached for her daughter. Daphne barely reacted, hardly able to feel anything but the mind numbing pain as her mothers arms wrapped around her.

"What happened?" she whispered. She couldn't think of why they were in the Hospital Wing.

"There was another attack!"

She looked up to find Amelia standing by Harry, one hand on his shoulder as she stared at Daphne.

Daphne looked around, a ball of lead forming in her gut as a terrible suspicion began to form. "W-wh-where's H-Hermione?" she stammered, struggling to hold onto her composure.

Amelia's eyes flickered to a set of privacy screens set around the bed on Susan's other side and before anyone could move Daphne was scrambling from her bed as she released Harry's hand and slipped from her mother's arms. She shoved her way past the screens and came to an abrupt halt, staring blankly at the petrified form of her friend and bond mate.

The expression on Hermione's frozen face was one of shock and fear, her eyes staring lifelessly up at the ceiling, her hair fanned out on the pillow beneath her head.

Daphne didn't realize she'd started crying until she found herself sobbing into Harry's shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

"It's okay," his voice soothed. "She's still there. She's not gone, not entirely. Search for her and you'll feel her."

It took several minute for her to process what he was saying and several more before she was able to do as he suggested, closing her eyes and focussing as hard as she could on their bond. Eventually, she found it and a flood of relief filled her. Hermione _was_ still there. Daphne could barely feel her presence and likened it to when Harry briefly closed their bond, but she was still there.

"Oh no," she muttered when she opened her eyes a few moments later. "Neville."

Neville was lying on the bed opposite Hermione and next to him was another figure, a girl she vaguely recognized as a sixth year Ravenclaw Prefect. Both were as stiff and frozen as the other victims.

After some time simply standing there, she found herself being led back to her bed as the adults in the room arranged themselves around the three of them. Daphne reached out and Susan responded in kind, the two of them clasping hands across the narrow space between their beds.

Also present, aside from Amelia, the Headmaster, and her mother, was Augusta Longbottom, and their Head of House.

"First, I would like to say that I am pleased to see the three of you awake after your ordeal. I cannot begin to guess how difficult this must be for you," Dumbledore started in an exhausted tone.

Daphne felt a flush of anger from harry, that she agreed with entirely, at the sight go the old wizard but she pushed it aside and did her best to soothe him through their link. Now was not the time for their issues with the Headmaster.

"It has been two days, now, since the attack. Can you tell me anything about why we found Miss Granger, Miss Clearwater, and Lord Longbottom in the hall outside of the Library instead of down at the Quidditch match?"

They were silent for a moment before Harry let out a sigh. "I've… I've been hearing a voice, at times," he admitted, going on to tell them about each time he'd heard it and what it was saying.

"Why did you not mention this before?"

"No one else seemed to hear it," he said. "Hearing voices that no one else can isn't usually a good thing."

"We heard it too, this time," Daphne pointed out. "But it didn't seem like Neville could."

"So you heard this voice and Miss Granger rushed off to check something in the Library?" Dumbledore prompted.

"Yeah. I didn't want her to go but Neville said he'd go with her. We were on our way to the pitch when…" he trailed off, his eyes flicking toward Neville's gran.

"Go ahead, Harry," Amelia encouraged him. "It's going to come out, eventually, and your families _are_ allied anyway. You can trust Madam Longbottom. I'll explain it to her later."

He nodded and continued. "Well, we felt elation from Hermione. She figured something out. She was excited, at least, and a little scared. A couple of minutes later there was this awful pain and then we woke up here."

Neville's gran had a considering expression on her face as she listened without interrupting.

"I was on my way down to the pitch, after discovering the new victims, to cancel the match when I found the three of you, collapsed in the entrance hall," McGonagall said.

"Rumor is, of course, working overtime. Most of the students are wondering what happened to the three of you and the stories are getting more and more outlandish with every telling. With your permission, I would like to put those rumors to rest and inform the school of your bond."

"Lady Zabini said we should go public with the bond, but isn't that dangerous?"

"Indeed, it can be. Letting everyone know of a potential weakness is not ideal, but I see few other alternatives. If we claim your collapse was in no way related to the attack, or claim another cause, speculation will continue to grow. Some are still claiming you to be a Dark Lord in the making, though not quite as vocally as before.

"By telling them about your bond that should quiet the majority of the doubters and you shall simply have to maintain greater caution in the future."

The three of them exchanged a look and, eventually, Daphne found herself nodding, along with Susan.

"Then I shall make an announcement tonight at dinner," Dumbledore said. "Now, can any of you think what Miss Granger might have understood? Anything might help point us in the right direction."

They discussed it for a time, everyone offering their thoughts but in the end, no one was able to guess what Hermione had figured out.

"It must be a serpent of some kind," Daphne suggested after they'd exhausted all other ideas.

"A serpent?" Dumbledore's gaze was sharp and calculating. "What makes you think that?"

"When Harry spoke to that snake at the dueling club, Hermione, Susan and I could understand them, but none of us are Parslemouths. He is though. We've been thinking that we can understand it because he can with the bond. Neville said he hadn't heard any voice when he was standing right next to Harry on Halloween, and again, he didn't seem like he could hear it this last time but we could. It must be speaking in Parsletongue."

"Hmmm… a distinct possibility," Dumbeldore agreed, "though I know of no serpent, or any other creature, that petrifies in this manner."

"I will have madam Pince see if she can't determine where Miss Granger was focusing her research, McGonagall said. "Thought I doubt we will have much luck. Even if it hadn't been two days since then, Miss Granger _always_ puts the books back on the shelves when she finishes with them. There would be no way to determine which books she was looking through."

"On that note, I am still wondering why we were not informed of this until this morning," Amelia said, glaring furiously at the Headmaster. "We should have been notified immediately."

"I did not wish to worry anyone over a situation that has no immediate solution. Not until we were certain there was no immediate danger."

Amelia gaped at him. "No immediate… what in the bloody hell would you call this!" she shrieked, waving one hand to indicate the five petrified students.

"They are perfectly safe, in fact, in their present condition they may be safer than anyone else in the castle."

"Hermione isn't safe!" Harry suddenly snapped. "This _hurts_. You can't begin to understand how much it hurts with her like this. We have each other to lean on but she's in there, alone, with nothing but the pain!" he bellowed pointing to their frozen bond mate.

He turned away when Amelia stepped forward and placed a calming hand on his shoulder, glaring at a distant wall instead of continuing to look at the Headmaster.

"I'm going to see to it that everyone else remains as safe as possible," she snarled at Dumbledore. "From now on there will be an Auror squad stationed on premises at all times. Prefects will be ceasing their patrols and students will have a teacher and Auror escort between classes."

"Hogwarts has not requested the services of the DMLE," Dumbledore tried to interject.

"Oh, yes it has. I am the Head of the DMLE and I was called here in response to an attack on students. Yes, I know it's a technicality," she interrupted as he opened his mouth to argue. "But I'm going to run with it and you know damn well that the Wizengamont would support me actions. Most of them have children here."

She was practically screaming as she reached the end of her tirade and she paused to take a deep breath. When she continued she spoke in a considerably calmer voice. "I _will_ be stationing Aurors here. You _will_ cooperate with them and they _will_ help patrol the school with the professors. Am I understood?"

"Of course, Madam Bones," Dumbeldore said, finally.

"I'm also going to recommend to the Wizengamont that the Aurors be allowed to search the students belongings. Someone has that diary the girls told McGonagall about and that's our best clue right now to finding out what exactly is going on around here. This is a _School_ , Headmaster. Not your personal fiefdom, and the students here should be your first priority."

"I assure you every student under my care is always my first priority," he said in a low, dangerous voice.

"Then I suggest you start acting like it, old man. Because from where we're standing it certainly doesn't look like it."

The two stood there for a moment, glaring at each other before Dumbledore turned and looked at Harry. "Lord Potter," he said. "I am pleased that you, Miss Greengrass, and Miss Bones are well." With that he turned and left the room with professor McGonagall following behind him.

"What in Merlins name does he mean, 'well'," Susan muttered, drawing Daphne's attention. "It hurts," she moaned and seemed to curl in on herself, sobbing uncontrollably.

Never before had Daphne felt so helpless. She had no idea how to help Susan. Amelia sat beside her bed and rubbed her nieces back until Madam Pomfrey approached and managed to get a dose of Dreamless Sleep into her. Despite the name, Daphne didn't think Susan's sleep was all that dreamless based on how she twitched and moaned in her sleep.

"Madam Pomfrey?" Harry asked, quietly from where he'd returned to the chair between Susan's and Daphne's beds.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Do you know why this is hitting Susan so hard? I mean, yes it hurts, so much, but neither Daphne or I are falling apart…"

The mediwitch gave a sad sigh. "I can only guess, in your case, that your past is proving to be of some benefit here. You have a higher than normal tolerance for pain, Harry. Higher than I think I've ever seen. I can't honestly begin to guess with Miss Greengrass. Perhaps she simply has a strong will?"

She patted his shoulder and walked off to check on her other patients. A few beds away, Amelia was speaking quietly to Madam Longbottom, probably explaining the bond to her, Daphne decided.

Her mother continued to sit beside her bed, simply observing as Daphne turned to study Harry with a critical eye. He was tense, his posture defensive and his emotions were difficult for her to categorize. He couldn't block them anymore, but recently his Occlumency practice had progressed to the point where he could start controlling his emotions. He might even be ready to start work on his shields soon.

She frowned when she realized he was bottling up his emotions instead of working through them.

"It's not your fault, Harry," she said a moment later, the words slipping out almost before she'd realized she was going to say them.

"I should have stopped her."

"She has free will and a mind of her own, Harry. Some people might be willing to obey a command from you without question, but you know damn well that Hermione will never be one of them."

"Then Ishould have gone with her," he snapped. "I swore I'd keep you all safe and so far I've been doing a pretty piss poor job of it."

"What did I tell you about Susan, Harry?" Amelia cut in from her spot by Neville's bed. "Last year during the Christmas break. You and I talked one night and what did I tell you?"

Harry sighed. "That you couldn't protect her every send of the day," he admitted, reluctantly.

"She's my family, I swore to protect her long before you did. Is it my fault she's hurting right now, because I wasn't there to protect her?"

"What? Of course not, but-"

"'But' nothing, Lord Potter. There is little difference between the two situations. You had other responsibilities and you did your best to caution her and Neville went with her. There isn't much you could have done," Augusta cut in, glaring at Harry from beside her Grandson. "I do not at all blame you for Neville being in this state. It is not up to you to protect everyone all the time. It's not possible. You aren't a god, young man. You cannot do everything and be everywhere."

Harry met her gaze firmly but there was no way Augusta Longbottom was going to back down from a twelve-year-old wizard, even one as powerful and potentially influential as Harry Potter. Eventually he sighed and looked away, his fingers twisting in his lap.

"Harry? Why don't you go show Amelia the Room?" Daphne suggested and Harry gave her a confused look.

"Why?"

"I think you need to blow something up."

He almost quirked a smile at that, but not quite. "Madam Pomfrey isn't likely to let me out of here to go blow things up."

"Let me handle Poppy," Amelia said. "It might be good for you to blow off a little steam, and besides, I'd quite like to see this room you've told me about." She stood and walked off, leaving the rest of them alone with their thoughts.

#####

"You haven't told them, have you?" Danyella Greengrass said after Amelia and Harry left the hospital wing a few minutes later with Madam Pomfrey's permission. She kept her voice low so that their conversation couldn't be overheard by Augusta who still maintained a quiet vigil by her grandsons bedside. The older witch had a thoughtful expression on her face, and, occasionally, her eyes would flick to the three girls but she made no motion to approach them.

"What could I possibly say, Mother?" Daphne whispered, brokenly. Her eyes were drawn, almost against her will, to land on Hermione's petrified form and a stabbing pain ripped through her chest at the sight. "She could have died," she whispered again, so quietly it was almost impossible to hear her. "She could have died and I… I haven't…"

"You love her."

Daphne whipped her gaze back to her mother sitting on her other side.

"Don't try to deny it. You may be young but you _know_ what this bond will eventually mean. And you've never felt particularly attracted to males."

"I'm only thirteen-years-old, Mother-"

"Age truly has little to do with years, Daughter, I've taught you that much," Danyella gently interrupted her. "You are old enough to understand who you find attractive and who you don't."

"What of it? Father has made it clear that I need to marry Lord Potter."

"Which we both know was going to happen anyway. He may not truly believe the stories about Soul Bonds, despite the evidence. He doesn't feel it truly means you will be married eventually, hence his push for you to secure a betrothal offer from the young Lord.

"But we know better, don't we? You will come to love him, it is only a matter of time, and in the meantime you are already recognizing your feelings for the other girls."

Daphne squirmed in place, feeling, as always, that her thoughts were laid bare before her mother. Somehow the woman just always seemed to know exactly what she was thinking, sometimes even better than Daphne herself did.

"Again, what of it? Yes, in the future, I'm certain we will all three be married to Harry Potter. I already do care for him a great deal," she admitted. "And I am also certain that, yes, I will come to truly love him, but I won't ever feel for him what Susan and Hermione will, and they won't feel for me what I will for them."

"Do you truly have so little faith in your own soul?" Danyella sighed and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, gathering her daughter back into her arms again. "Oh, little one," she sighed. "If you could not feel for him what is needed, you would not be bonded. And they would not be bonded to you if they couldn't feel the same for you either. This bond will not let you be with people that you could not be truly happy with. But it won't just happen. Like any relationship you have to work for it. Have you let the girls know how you feel?"

She shook her head, almost violently.

"Why ever not?"

"Such… feelings aren't well like in our world, mother, you know that. Some people don't care, but the old families, like Susan's, most of them do, and you know as well as I that a lot of muggle society doesn't look kindly on it either."

"So?"

"So I don't know how they'll react. I know right now I care for Harry, and I can, objectively, recognize and point out that he is attractive, but I don't _feel_ that for him. Not yet, if I'm to believe you. So if they're the same, if they can't, or don't yet feel anything for me… I don't know. I don't want to push things too early. If I do anything or say anything before they're ready… what if that pushes them away? What if it hurts our bond? Hurts us? In the information we received from the goblins there was not one reference to a Soul Bonded couple of the same gender."

Danyella considered that, absently rocking her daughter gently before she spoke. "I don't have that answer, little one," she murmured against her daughters hair. "I don't know, but you can't lie to them forever. You will have to let them in. You will need to tell them about your life growing up, and you'll need to let them know what you feel and decide for themselves how they feel for you. You've mentioned many times how smart Hermione is, do you honestly think she hasn't considered this possibility?"

"If she has, she hasn't mentioned it."

"And neither have you," her mother pointed out. "Just… just think about it. Consider the situation carefully. Nothing worth having is ever attained easily, and never without some risk. You just might have to take a risk and trust your heart to them. They already care for you, and even if they do not yet feel as you do, I believe you can trust them not to be cruel. If they don't feel it yet, I am positive they will, in time."

Daphne had nothing to say to that so she simply leaned back against her mother and let her mind drift, considering the life ahead of her that she'd once looked toward with fear and even a touch of despair, but now she was starting to think there might be a glimmer of hope possible for her.

"I almost kissed her," she said, suddenly, startling herself at the admission.

"Hmmm?"

She blushed brightly but pushed ahead, knowing her mothering would never let such an admission slide without an explanation. "Hermione," she said. "I told you how she and Harry have experienced a growth within our bond, right?"

Danyella nodded but said nothing.

"It hurt Susan and I that we haven't experienced the same. At the last Quidditch match, Harry was hurt."

"The one with that rogue bludger you wrote to me about?"

"Yes. Anyway, he was hurt badly enough that Madam Pomfrey had to use sticking charms to hold him immobile in bed. I was allowed to stay overnight here to keep him company. When Susan, Hermione, and I were heading down for dinner I finally admitted how it hurt and she told me, she said that I belonged to them and they belonged to me." Daphne let out a small laugh. "She has this habit of chewing on her bottom lip whenever she's thinking about something really hard or when she's nervous and it's absolutely the most adorable and distracting thing I've ever seen."

"Was she doing it then?"

"Yes, she was, and I swear I almost kissed her right then in the middle of the hall with Susan wrapped around us both and Neville standing down the hall from us. He'd promised Harry he'd watch out for us so he was following at a distance, giving us a bit of privacy to talk."

"He sounds like a good lad."

"He is. Neville has proven, repeatedly, that he is a good person, and a great and loyal friend."

"So what are you going to do the next time she chews on her bottom lip?" her mother asked after a few minutes of easy silence passed between them, a teasing note in her voice.

Daphne blushed again, she could feel her cheeks warming as the blood rushed to her face. "I don't know," she admitted. "I still don't think she's ready for that, if she ever will be."

"You'll never know if you don't take a chance," Danyella said. "Enough for now, though. You need to try to rest."

She adjusted herself in the bed so she was leaning back against the railing at the head of the narrow mattress, still holding Daphne in her arms and she resumed rocking the girl, quietly humming a lullaby that she used to sing to her when she was still just a little girl, before the scars had started, and before life became complicated.

#####

 _I need to blow stuff up…_ Harry thought over and over as he paced back and forth in front of the blank stretch of wall in the seventh floor corridor. Surprised was barely adequate to describe how he'd felt when Amelia returned with Madam Pomfrey's permission for him to leave the Hospital Wing. Not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth he quickly changed from the hospital pajamas he'd woken up in into a pair of black pants and a black long sleeved shirt and tugged on his dragon hide boots to complete the outfit before he lead Amelia out into the school.

With his wand stowed in the holster strapped to his wrist he yanked open the door and strode purposefully into the room with Amelia following behind him. She more than understood the concept of blowing off steam, but she was a little worried about Harry's mood. He needed to let out the emotions he was bottling up and blowing things up probably wasn't going to be enough to do that.

The Room had created a firing range larger than the one they usually used and Harry's wand shot into his hand, a curse already on his lips as he targeted one of the many dozen dummies set up down range.

Blasting curses, exploding hexes, whips made of flame, the all shot from his wand with impressive speed and power. Dummies and targets alike were blown apart, ripped to shreds, or set alight one after another as rage and guilt rose like a tidal wave inside him.

"Reducto!" he hissed furiously and the last dummy was blown into tiny pieces. A moment later the Room reset and he continued picking his targets apart. As he cast, he reached deeper and deeper into that well of power that he had access to. He wand hummed in a white knuckled grip, the sensation growing stronger and stronger until the length of wood was literally vibrating.

Amelia stood back, after first taking a moment to marvel at what the room provided, and watched ten minutes of impressive, wanton destruction. By the fifteenth minute mark, Harry was panting harshly and dripping sweat.

"Harry, I think that's enough now," she called when the fifth round of dummies was obliterated. When a ten foot slab of granite appeared and sparks started to erupt from along the shaft of his wand she threw caution to the wind and surged forward through the cloud of raw magic that hung in the air around him and yanked him back.

His shouted 'Reducto!' erupted from the end of his wand with such force that the recoil knocked them both back several feet, sending them sorawling on the floor and, instinctively, she wrapped herself around him even as she cast the strongest shield she could muster in front of them. The stone slab erupted spectacularly, filling the end of the room with a cloud of dust as fist sized chunks of stone pinged off her shield for nearly a minute.

When the sound of falling rubble finally stopped, she waited ten more seconds and then let her shield drop, turning her focus to the boy in her arms.

"Harry, are you okay?" she asked, worry clear in her voice and her deep blue eyes as she checked him over for injury.

"She's still there," he whispered, so quietly she almost missed it.

"What?" She helped him sit up, ignoring the tears streaming down his face as she looked into a pain filled emerald gaze.

"She's still there," he said again. "I can just barely feel her, but she's there, and I know she'll be okay, so why does it hurt so much?"

Amelia sighed and pulled him, unresisting, into her arms. "Well, it hurts because you're bonded. That's a given. But I think there's more to it than that. I think it hurts so much because you care about her, kiddo. Might even love her."

Harry shook his head at that. "I don't know what love is."

"Of course you do," she disagreed. "It's just hard for you to recognize. Those girls love you." His head shot up at that and she chuckled quietly. "Don't act so surprised, Harry. I'm not saying they want to marry you or anything," _yet,_ she added, mentally, "but they love you all the same. Neville loves you like a brother. And I love you, too. You've kind of become the son I never got around to having. I know we haven't been at this guardian thing for long, but I'm happy, more than I can express, that you've let us, let me, into your life."

She gave him a moment to consider that and smiled when his head dropped back onto her shoulder as, for the first time, he relaxed completely into her embrace, every last trace of tension leaving him in a rush that left him limp and weary.

"You care about those girls, and you care about Neville. When the people we care about are hurt, it hurts us." She gently, absently ran the fingers of one hand through his unruly hair. "It's the greatest contradiction in life. The ones we love give us strength, and, at the same time, they make us weak. Hermione and Neville will be fine, understand?" she asked and he nodded, silently.

"In the meantime, there are two other girls that are hurting just as badly as you are. I think you'll need each other more than ever right now, think you can do that?"

Harry nodded again and sat up, visibly pulling himself together as he wiped the tears from his cheeks.

"Hey," she said and waited until he met her eyes. "That doesn't mean that you always have to be the strong one. You're just as entitled to help and support when you need it, understand?"

"Yeah," he said, giving her a small, sad smile. "Thank you, Amelia."

"That's what I'm here for," she said.

Standing, she helped him to his feet and he found and quickly stowed his wand back in its holster. In the excitement, Amelia forgot about the sparks she'd seen erupting from Harry's wand, and, contained within the magic resistant holster hidden by his sleeve, neither of them noticed as the wand sparked a few more times as energy bled out from the dozens of tiny cracks running along the shaft.


	27. The Chamber

**Author's Note: Rotten Writer, checking in with another update for Soul Scars. This one moves fast, with everything coming to a head by the end of the chapter. Next chapter is going to be the wrap up and explanations abound.**

 **I am not a fan of warnings, I get the point to some of them but I dislike how they can break up the flow of a chapter and I don't want to ruin the surprise by telling people something is coming ahead of time.**

 **BUT in case anyone has actual issues or really is uncomfortable I'm warning you now, Daphne is going to be revealing some of her past in this chapter. It's not graphic, it's not detailed, but if anyone has trouble with such things you have been warned. It's located right after the first scene break when Daphne enters the Hospital Wing.**

 **All right, moving on!**

 **Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. This makes me sad.**

Soul Scars Part Two

Darkness Within

By,

Rtnwriter

It was late in the evening when the portrait to the Gryffindor common room swung open, seemingly for no reason. A few minutes after it swung shut again there was a shimmer in the air and three figures became visible as the boy with messy black hair stuffed his invisibility cloak into his pocket.

Together, he and the two girls with him shakily made their way over to their usual seats by the fireplace and dropped heavily into them.

"'Follow the spiders'," Harry muttered darkly. "Follow the bloody spiders, he says. God dammit! Nothing! Nothing but nearly getting ourselves eaten!" He growled and scrubbed his hands angrily back through his hair.

Aragog had been less than useful when they were brought before him by some of his many children after foolishly taking Hagrid's advice and following a line of spiders deep into the forbidden forest. They hadn't even learned anything new about the Beast of Slytherin. All they'd learned was that a Reductor worked just as well, if with messier results, against a giant spider as it did against targets and dummies. Harry hadn't liked the sparks that had shot out from his wand though when he started pushing his magic through the length of wood to overpower his attacks. That was definitely worrying him but he wasn't sure there was much of anything he could do about it at the moment.

"How could they just arrest Hagrid like that?" Susan asked, equally incensed, though for different reasons. Growing up with Amelia Bones had given Susan a greater than usual respect for the law and as far as she could tell the Ministers and Aurors actions hadn't exactly been legal.

"You heard Fudge," Daphne offered with a disgusted sneer. "'Got to be seen to be doing something'. Disgusting little ponce."

All three sighed in a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. The last two weeks since Hermione and Neville had been petrified had been extremely difficult for the three of them. The pain they felt had not lessened one bit, and it was taking a toll on them. Classes hadn't gotten any easier, Malfoy had taken to making insulting comments about Hermione and Neville to his friends where Harry could hear, but he never directed any of those comments toward Harry directly. Daphne and Susan had been forced to stop Harry from attacking the blond Slytherin in a rage on several different occasions already and Malfoy showed no signs of slowing down or stopping his behavior.

The one bright spot they could find was that, aside from a few of the more hateful students, no one believed him to be the Heir of Slytherin anymore, especially after Dumbledore's announcement regarding their bond, something all three were quite happy to have missed due to spending an extra night in the Hospital Wing after they woke from the result of Hermione's petrification.

Ernie MacMillan had even approached Harry in Herbology the week before and offered his apologies.

"There's no way you would ever attack Granger, even before we were told about this bond, and with your oath to Lord Longbottom… well, you'd be dead already if you'd had anything to do with it."

Now though, with Dumbledore forced out of the castle by Malfoy Senior and the incompetent fool of a Minister ordering the Aurors that had patrolled the halls for the last two weeks back to the Ministry, they three bond mates felt certain that it was only a matter of time before things got worse again.

"It's not going to get better, is it?" Susan whispered, echoing Harry's thoughts with a frightening degree of accuracy.

"I don't know," he admitted helplessly as Daphne slid closer to the other girl and wrapped her arms around her. He wanted to crack a joke, something to make her laugh or something, _anything_ , to help her feel even a little better, but he couldn't think of anything he could possibly do.

He and Daphne shared a worried look while Susan pressed against the blond. Susan was not handling the fracture in their bond well at all. The pain was exhausting, a constant steady thing that sapped their strength and left them struggling with some of the simple day to day things. She barely slept or ate. She looked haggard and worn, her normally vibrant hair and eyes both looking dull and lifeless and she'd already lost a noticeable amount of weight.

Harry stood and moved over to their sofa, sliding into the space on Susan's other side. He gathered her into his arms and pulled, gently, until she was leaning against his side with her head resting on his shoulder.

"Sleep," he told her. "You're exhausted and you need to rest."

She mumbled a half hearted protest but didn't move from his arms as Daphne moved even closer, rubbing one hand gently up and down Susan's arm and within minutes her breath evened out as sleep overtook her.

"She's going to end up in the Hospital Wing if she keeps going on like this," Daphne muttered, eyeing Susan worriedly.

"Maybe… maybe she should be?" he wondered. "I mean, at least there Madam Pomfrey could get her some nutrient potions to help with her not eating, maybe calming draughts to help her sleep a little more often?"

"Maybe," Daphne admitted, never taking her eyes from Susan's sleeping face, tense and filled with pain even in her slumber as she continued to gently stroke the other girls arm with one hand. "How would we convince her to go, though?"

Harry considered that for a few moments before an idea occurred to him that he didn't particularly care for. "I don't like going behind her back, but we could ask Amelia," he said. "She _is_ her guardian. She could request Madam Pomfrey treat her, or, maybe she could come visit her and see how Susan is doing for herself?"

"It's not going behind her back, Harry, not really. I mean, you eventually understood Madam Pomfrey contacting Child Services and Amelia's offices for you, right?"

He nodded at that.

"Well, it's a similar situation here. She _needs_ help. And we both care about her, she can be mad all she wants later if that's what she wants, but I refuse to apologize for wanting her to be healthy and safe."

"All right, Daphne, you've made your case. We'll contact Amelia about it."

"Good," she said with a weak grin. "Floo or owl?"

He barely stopped himself from shrugging and instead shook his head. "I don't really know. Floo would be faster, wouldn't it? Unless we could send out a letter tonight, in that case the letter might reach her about the same time as we'd be able to request access to a Floo capable fireplace tomorrow."

"It's after curfew," she pointed out.

"I could sneak up to the owlrey with my cloak, but…"

"It's dangerous and there's no guarantee that Hedwig or Archimedes won't be out hunting," Daphne finished.

They lapsed into silence, both of them considering the situation when they heard a tapping coming from one of the windows across the common room. Harry attempted to shift Susan so he could go check on the noise but Susan whined piteously in her sleep and Daphne reached out to stop him, pressing him gently back against the sofa.

"Just stay there," she gently admonished him. "She needs you right where you are, right now." There was a slight melancholy tone to her voice, and something he couldn't quite name flitted across their broken bond but it was gone as fast as he'd noticed it and so was she, quickly striding around the sofa and away to the far side of the room behind him.

Nervous apprehension filled him, as it had since they woke, whenever one of the girls was out of his sight. He knew he shouldn't still feel guilty over Hermione's and Neville's attack, but he couldn't quite help himself. Eventually, he heard Daphne's voice, murmuring quietly, then her soft footfalls coming back toward them and when she came into view around the sofa her right arm was raised with a large, snowy white bird perched proudly on her raised forearm.

"Hedwig." He greeted the beautiful owl in a hushed voice despite his joy at seeing the brilliant bird. "Did you know we needed you?" he asked and she nodded, bobbing her head up and down for a moment before she threw herself into the air and came around to perch on the back of the sofa close to Susan. Hedwig leaned down and gently brushed the side of her head against the sleeping girls cheek before she straightened and looked at Harry, letting out a mournful sounding cry that he didn't think he'd ever heard from his beautiful familiar.

"You're worried about her too, eh?" he asked and Hedwig nodded again.

"Hedwig, do you think you could take a letter to Susan's Aunt for us? It's very important that it gets to her as fast as you can possibly fly."

Hedwig puffed out her chest and her feathers, making herself look larger and imposing as she fixed the blond with a fierce, determined stare as if saying, 'just try and stop me', and Daphne chuckled quietly, reaching out to stroke the owls head.

"You are such a clever girl, Hedwig, I don't know where we'd be without you. Let me grab some parchment and quill and I'll be right back," she added to Harry before she stood and hurried away toward the stairs leading up to the girls dormitories.

In less than two minutes she was back, looking slightly flushed, with a roll of parchment in one hand and a quill and bottle of ink in the other.

"I think I'll write the letter," she said, eyeing Harry where he was still trapped against the sofa. She set her materials down on the table, dipped her quill, and carefully began to write.

 _Amelia-_

 _Harry and I are quite worried about Susan. This issue with our bond is having a much harsher effect on her than it is on either Harry or myself, or maybe we're just better at handling it than she is, I cannot be certain. Either way, she is not doing well at all, and we have begun to think that she might need to be in the Hospital Wing where Madam Pomfrey can care for her._

 _We don't want to go behind her back in this, but we are very worried about her and are willing to risk her anger if it means helping her. We thought that perhaps you could contact Madam Pomfrey, or perhaps you might come to the school and see her for yourself._

Daphne went on to describe Susan's appearance and weight loss and her poor sleep and how little she'd been eating of late and when she finished she handed the letter to Harry who skimmed it over quickly before handing it back with a nod of his head.

Daphne quickly signed both her name and Harry's at the bottom of the letter before she carefully rolled it into a tight cylinder and tied it to Hedwig's proffered leg. Carrying the large bird across the common room on her right forearm, she pushed open the window and then spent a few moments staring deep into her expressive golden eyes while she gently stroked the feathers on Hedwig's breast with her left hand.

"As swiftly as you can, Hedwig," she whispered and Hedwig nipped gently at her fingers before she spread her broad wings and launched herself out into the cool April evening, vanishing quickly toward the hidden horizon.

By the time Daphne closed the window and returned to the sofa she found that Harry had succumbed to his own exhaustion and was fast asleep, her head tilted to the left, resting atop Susan's where she slumbered against his shoulder. The need for sleep clawed at the back of her mind, but instead of joining them on the sofa, or retiring to her own bed, she pulled up Harry's chair and slumped into it, without her usual grace and poise.

At that height, and with Harry's head tilted the way it was, she was able to see the scar behind his jaw that he used to stroke with the fingers of his right hand when he was nervous or thinking hard about something. He still did, at times, but not nearly as often as he had the year before.

In the light from the fireplace it seemed to shine brightly against the more tanned skin of his face and neck, a crescent shaped slash nearly an inch long that followed around the hinge of his jaw. Absently, her right hand came up and she traced the scar on her own skin with her index finger and thought of the night she received it.

She let her hand drop and heaved out a long, tired breath. She was so tired, but restless, anxious. The last two weeks had been difficult for so many reasons, not the least of which being the memory of the conversation with her mother the night they'd woken in the Hospital Wing after the attack. The truth she'd tried to deny, tried to ignore, that was now staring her in the face, unavoidable and unchanging.

She stood and started to pace, much like Harry frequently did, back and forth in front of the fire. Each time she turned her eyes tracked her sleeping bond mates, noting the pained expressions and stiff postures, even in their sleep. Her eyes lingered on Susan's face for a time, following the soft curve of her cheek, the slender slope of her neck and the waves of silken red hair, so dull and lifeless in comparison to how the beautiful red head usually looked.

She stopped, suddenly, as a thought, an idea, popped, almost unbidden in her mind and for a moment, she hesitated. Then she was moving across the short space that separated her from the two sleeping on the sofa. Carefully, she removed Harry's invisibility cloak from where he'd stuffed it into one of his robe pockets, grateful that it wasn't in the pocket underneath Susan. Once that was removed she ran up to their dorm and pulled the comforter off of her bed, bringing it back to tuck it around the two of them, making sure they would be warm through the night.

She turned, and picked up the silvery cloak, letting the cool, liquid like material slide through her fingers for a moment before she took a deep breath and threw it over her shoulders. Pulling up the hood a moment later, Daphne Greengrass vanished.

#####

The doors to the Hospital Wing slowly opened, just a foot or so before they closed again, silently. A few moments later the privacy screen surrounding one of the beds shifted, for seemingly no reason, then fell still.

Behind the screens, Daphne removed the cloak from around her shoulders and raised her wand, casting a silencing charm around the bed so that no one would hear her, particularly not Madam Pomfrey. She could only imagine the woman's reaction if she discovered her there in the middle of the night.

With her cold blue eyes fixed on the frozen form of her bond mate, Daphne slowly dropped into a chair, studying Hermione's petrified expression for what felt like the thousandth time since the attack.

"Madam Pomfrey tells us that the petrified victims can't hear or see, that none of you are aware of where you are or what's going on around you. To you, when the Restorative Draught is complete and the unpetrify you, it'll be as if no time at all has passed. I think… I think that's why I'm here." She snorted derisively a moment later.

"No… I'm here, because I'm a coward. Mother tells me that I need to talk to you three, to let you in. So did the sorting hat. In fact, I tell myself that, frequently. But I'm so scared. I have secrets, I've lied to all of you, lies of omission and outright falsities. I have more secrets, I think, than even Harry does and I don't think I'll ever have the courage to tell you about them. But… I need to say it. I considered speaking to Harry and Susan just a few minutes ago, they're both sound asleep on the sofa in the common room. But I was afraid they might wake up, or hear me.

"So here I am, to talk to you, who can't hear me, just so I can say all of this aloud and get it off my mind, for a time." She trailed off, studying the girl lying in the bed before her for a moment longer before she took a deep, fortifying breath, and began to speak.

"I told Harry, that night that he and I talked, that my Father isn't really a good man, not the way I claimed he was our very first night at this school. That was an understatement, to be honest. He is a horrible, cruel man that cares only for his own wealth and power and I have been nothing but a disappointment to him. No sons as heirs, he has made certain my entire life to make his displeasure with my gender known. The only thing I'm good for is to marry me off to a family willing to pay a good Bride Price for my hand.

"He was… disturbingly thrilled when he learned that my bonded was the Boy-Who-Lived. He wants me to convince Harry to offer a Betrothal Contract to my father. He may or may not believe that the bond will see us married no matter what, eventually. I don't know what he truly thinks. But his only concern is the money, the wealth that he can possibly pry from the Potter Fortune in return for his permission for Harry to marry me. That's all I am to him. A bargaining chip. A resource. I have never been a daughter, never a beloved child. But he's made certain that I have been properly trained to be a good, subservient wife to my future husband.

"My lessons… training to be a proper pureblood lady was not normal," she said, leaning forward so her arms rested on the edge of the bed, taking Hermione's stiff hand in hers. "Normally, it is the mother who teaches the daughter all the lessons we need to know. Father, however, is very strict and he did not trust my mother to teach me to his standards while he was busy with his business, so he hired tutors. Tutors to teach me everything I would need to know to be a Lady of the House.

"What I wanted didn't matter. I had lessons in posture, how to sit, how to walk, how to talk, how to dress. Politics, business, instructions on the various Houses and their levels of power and influence both political and financial. I told Harry that night, if I learned well, they ignored me. I received no praise or compliments. If I did poorly, or if I did not learn my lessons quickly enough for their tastes, I was punished.

"The only rule they had to obey was they could not damage me. No marks or scars to add to my ever growing collection. But there are other ways to hurt someone than the physical. For the first six months I was often deprived of sleep. I was forced to stand and recite my lessons for days on end as exhaustion turned my mind to mush.

"Then they started to use fear. There are spells that will lock a persons mind within an illusion, trapping the victim inside their own head. That is why I have such difficulty with medical related things. The illusion my tutor chose to use were his own memories of hour upon hour of muggle doctors performing surgeries on accident victims. I couldn't close my eyes. I couldn't look away. I could only watch as men, women, and children were cut apart over and over again. I was seven years old when that started."

She stopped and took several deep breaths, focusing her Occlumency, more developed than her bond mates, to push back the rising memories before she continued.

"Of course, they made sure to break up those punishments, making sure that I would not become desensitized to them. More forced sleep deprivation and just after my eighth birthday they started giving me illusions of pain. My mind would be tricked into believing that I was on fire, frozen, beaten, cut, even being exposed to the Cruciatus."

She trailed off, shivering and rubbed her arm with her free hand. Reaching out she grabbed the ever present water cup off of the small end table next to the bed and took a small sup, soothing her dry mouth and throat before setting it back and focusing her attention back on her story.

"Only one time did I defy my father during all of this. It was when I was nine and I expressed how much I hated these lessons, hated how I was treated and he told me that he would release me from the lessons if I wanted. He would sell me in a marriage contract to someone out of the country and send me away, then he would start training Astoria. He said he would have them do to her what they'd been doing to me. I… I flew into a rage and I tried to attack him." She let out another self deprecating snort as she stroked the scar behind her jaw. "I was a fool, of course. I had no wand, no training, and he was so much bigger than me. He backhanded me and left me this scar when his House Ring dug into my skin.

"That was the one and only time my father has ever struck me. I made certain to never disobey him ever again, and I hid myself behind the Ice Queen so he wouldn't know how I felt." She blew out a long breath and let her hand fall as she considered the next part of her story.

"It was this past summer that Father finally became aware of something that Mother has apparently known for some time, something about me that I have only recently begun to understand, myself. When the scars started, and we realized I was bonded to someone, Mother had to take some time to teach me a very important lesson that, at the time, I did not truly understand.

"When she first explained to me what being bonded meant I was only five years old but I was very excited and I asked her, 'what do you think she will be like?'. It took Mother a week to teach me that I needed to say 'he' and not 'she' whenever I spoke of my bond mate, particularly around Father."

She wiped tears from her eyes even as her breath hitched and her throat felt tight.

"And that is my true fear. That, I think, is what has been keeping me back from our bond. The fear that I will truly come to love all three of you, but that I will forever be apart from you all. Married to a man that I cannot feel a true attraction to, and married to two, beautiful women, that will never be attracted to me." She let out a self deprecating laugh at that.

"Mother says that this bond would not have happened if we couldn't all truly love each other, but I cannot quite bring myself to believe her. Not yet. I… I hope she is right, but I couldn't bear it if I told you how I felt and found that you wanted nothing to do with me after that."

Her voice had dropped to a whisper by then, and Daphne finally fell silent as she studied Hermione's face. "I don't know that I'll ever get such an opportunity again," she murmured after several long minutes of thought. "I'm still a coward," she whispered. "I could never do this while you're awake. I'm taking advantage of you, now, I know that, and I'm so sorry. But if Mother is wrong, and you and Susan won't ever really be able to feel for me what I am beginning to feel for you… I have to be selfish, and at least take this one thing for myself…"

She trailed off and stood, leaning forward over the bed until her hair fell around her face in long honey blond curtains. Dropping down she hesitated for just a moment, the tip of her tongue darting out to wet her lips before she closed the last inch of distance.

Daphne pressed her lips, briefly, to those of her frozen bond mate in a chaste, but emotion filled kiss before she pulled back and sank into her seat, her face crumpling into despair. It was not the experience she had hoped for, longed for. Instead of warm and responsive, Hermione's lips were cold and stiff, like kissing a statue. More tears blurred her vision and she laid her head down on her crossed arms where she rested them on the side of the bed, one hand still tightly clasping Hermione's as her body heaved with great, wracking sobs.

After an unknowable amount of time, she finally cried herself to sleep, and in her grief she never noticed the tears streaming from Hermione's wide, unseeing eyes.

#####

She had floated for days, weeks, months, it seemed like in a sea of darkness so complete, that she couldn't honestly even say if she had a body or not. The only thing that told Hermione Granger that she was even still living, was the pain.

It was a rolling, unending tidal wave of agony that offered no sign of surcease in its endless crushing progression. As a voice filtered into her awareness, she found that focusing on it offered a slight distraction from the pain she felt.

" _Hermione isn't safe!"_

Harry?

" _This_ hurts. _You can't begin to understand how much it hurts with her like this. We have each other to lean on, but she's in there, alone, with nothing but the pain!"_

Harry! I'm here! Daphne! Susan! Please, please, hear me…

If she could have wept she would have. Alone, trapped inside a prison of her own body. She listened intently as Amelia tore into the Headmaster and as they talked Harry out of his spiraling, and unfounded, guilt.

Eventually, the voices faded and she was left with only the pain again. When next she heard their voices, it appeared that some time had passed.

" _Tonks is one of the Aurors on-duty,"_ she heard Daphne say in a quiet tone. _"I ran into her this morning and she asked me to tell you how sorry she is."_

" _Not her fault,"_ came Harry's mutter and Hermione would have frowned, if she could have.

" _Well, of course it isn't Harry. She's just offering her sympathies…."_

Things quickly settled into a rhythm. Periods of pain filled darkness, broken by brief periods when one of more of her bond mates was there with her. When they were present, the pain receded, just enough that she could hear them and those around them.

At her best guess, at least two weeks passed this way. Her bond mates appeared to visit her for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, as well as between classes whenever possible. When she found herself with an unexpected visit, based on her estimate of the passage of time, she focused all her attention on the words spoken to her.

At first, when Daphne began speaking, she was intrigued. She knew of the night in question, but neither Harry or Daphne had ever given details of their conversation and she and Susan hadn't asked. Intrigue quickly gave way to horror, which then morphed into a white hot, blinding rage.

Rage faded to shock at Daphne's next admission.

" _And that is my true fear…"_

Hermione hovered somewhere between shock and stunned realization.

Do I think of them that way? Can I? Oh, gods, Daphne, why haven't you said anything?

For the first time since becoming aware after the attack, the constant pain was forgotten, buried beneath an avalanche of heart breaking grief for the gorgeous, stubborn, broken Daphne Greengrass.

#####

When Hedwig swooped into the kitchen at The Boneyard during breakfast, Amelia couldn't honestly say that she was surprised to see the gorgeous owl. She flew in and landed on the table, right in front of the red haired witches breakfast plate, letting out a mournful cry even as she extended her let without any preamble.

"How are they doing, Hedwig?" she asked as she untied the letter.

Hedwig's eyes were sad and she shook her head.

"I expected as much, honestly," Amelia sighed, unrolling the letter as a small bowl of water and another willed with owl treats appeared on the table, courtesy of Binky.

As Amelia read, her heart ached, and her stomach twisted into knots, making the half of her breakfast that she'd already consumed sit like balls of lead in her gut. She pushed away her plate and glanced at her watch before standing, her chair scraping loudly across the floor as it slid back from the table.

"No response, Hedwig," she told the bird. "I'm going over there, myself, right now. You are welcome to rest here before you start back, if you like."

Hedwig barked at her and shook her head before spreading her wings and launching herself into the air. She flew a quick circuit around the room before she came in and landed carefully on Amelia's shoulder.

"All right," she murmured, a tight smile tugging at her lips as she reached up and gently stroked Hedwig's feathers. "We'll both go." She turned and strode from the room, moving quickly down the hall to the Floo Access Room. A moment later a quiet pop echoed through the downstairs of the large home as bird and woman vanished.

#####

"Thank bloody Merlin!"

Daphne jerked up, groaning in pain as he neck and back protested her sudden movement. Stark terror filled her for a moment but it was already quickly bleeding away to relief. She looked around, bleary eyed as she realized she wasn't the one feeling those emotions to find Harry and Susan standing a few feet away, both of them panting harshly, their brows beaded with sweat.

"Wha-"

She cut off and let out a squeak when Harry stepped forward and suddenly grabbed her arms, jerking her to her feet as his own arms wrapped tightly around her.

"Don't _do_ that," he snapped. "Susan and I woke up and we couldn't find you and… gods I thought maybe you'd been attacked too…"

 _Crap_ , Daphne thought as Harry's frightened ramblings percolated their way through her sleep addled brain and finally registered.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, wrapping her arms gently around him even as se felt Susan envelope them both from the side. "I didn't mean to worry you. You two were asleep last night and… I was restless. I didn't want to move you, and I didn't want to go to bed, so I came to sit with Hermione. I hate leaving her alone."

"You could have been caught, or hurt," Susan whimpered and Daphne winced.

"I used Harry's cloak, and I didn't even see anyone on the way here. No prefects, or teachers, no one." She fell silent and the three of them just stood for a few minutes, wrapped in each other while Harry and Susan slowly got themselves under control.

When they finally pulled apart and set about pulling up extra chairs so they could all sit around Hermione's bed, Susan was wiping her eyes and cheeks free of tears and Harry's hands were trembling.

"I feel like I owe the three of you one hell of an apology," Harry muttered some minutes later to questioning looks from the two conscious girls in the room. "I haven't seen things from this side of the situation before, when I go tearing off after something and you three are left worrying about me…" he trailed off, his hands clenched into fists and a muscle in his jaw ticking as he ground his teeth. "I really, _really_ didn't like that feeling."

Any response from the girls fell away as the sound of footsteps approached them and they looked up to see an exasperated Mediwitch approaching them.

"You three are not going to be doing yourselves any favors by spending all of your time here," she told them, gently. "I can't begin to understand how hard this is for you but you can't just put the rest of your lives on hold."

"We're not, Madam Pomfrey, I promise. We're still doing our homework and going to classes and everything." He shot a nervous glance in Susan's direction. She still didn't look good, but she appeared far more rested than she had the night before. Their sleep on the sofa had been long and uninterrupted by nightmares for a change and it appeared to have done Susan a lot of good but he still didn't like his listless she appeared. The fire and energy she'd shown when they were making their mad dash through the castle searching for their missing bond mate appeared to have dissipated, leaving her slouched in her seat, staring at Hermione's petrified form in the bed as if trying to burn the image into her memory.

"Ensure that you keep that up, Harry," Madam Pomfrey whispered to him as she approached and leaned down by his ear. "I have to say, of all my patients, I've grown rather fond of the four of you and would not like to see your health suffering." She squeezed his shoulder and moved forward, already brandishing her wand through the now familiar motions and the long, muttered incantation and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the silver glow around their frozen bond mate.

"My word."

He looked up at Madam Pomfrey's awed exclamation and froze at the sight before him. Hermione's silver aura rolled and wavered like an aurora and around her heart a single orb of auburn light rotated around a tangled mass of gold and gentle green veins that spread out from the mass of energy centered just over her heart.

His head whipped around and he took in Susan's and Daphne's dumbfounded expressions as they stared at the evidence before them in shock.

"Daphne?" he asked. "What happened?"

The blond shook her head, her eyes never moving even as a tear rolled down her cheek. Through the bond he could feel awe, relief, and stark terror rolling off of Daphne and he couldn't begin to think what might cause that particular combination of emotions.

"I… I came in last night…" she whispered, trailing off for a moment as she wiped her damp cheek. "I was feeling so restless and I… I just started talking to her." She seemed to be struggling to recount what she was so Harry focused on pushing as much soothing emotions as he could across the bond to her and a small smile tugged at her lips in response before she continued, a little stronger. "I feel like a coward, honestly. When you and Susan fell asleep last night… I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to- to tell you both everything I haven't been able to say.

"I couldn't though," she whispered, her head dropping to stare at her shoes. "I just… I couldn't risk one of you waking up, and Madam Pomfrey said that the petrified couldn't hear us right now, so… I told Hermione."

She fell silent again and Harry leaned over from his seat to her right and pulled her, gently, into a hug, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"Eventually, we'll both be able to share everything we need to," he whispered. "There's no rush. When you're ready and when I'm ready."

"Susan?"

Harry released Daphne and the three of hem turned at the sound of the familiar voice to find Amelia Bones standing behind them, Hedwig perched on her shoulder and looking at the three of them with a critical eye.

They stayed in the hospital wing that Sunday morning until lunch time and when the students left it was without Susan Bones in their company.

"That was not fun," Harry muttered to Daphne as she walked beside him through the halls toward the Great Hall. They'd wanted to stay for lunch, as they had been, but Madam Pomfrey had been very clear that they needed to spend a little less time in the Hospital Wing. Susan had already been dosed with a Dreamless Sleep potion as well as nutrient potions and would be resting as comfortably as possible.

The yelling had been expected, but it hadn't been any easier to deal with. Eventually, though, Susan had understood their concern. She might not be happy with them, or her Aunt, but she did understand and complied with the Mediwitch's orders without too much sulking.

"It needed to be done, though." Daphne shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. "I just want Hermione back and for this year to be over already," she whispered.

Harry nodded. He turned to her and a flash of movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. His eyes widened, but before he had a chance to move the spell slammed into his back and a moment later both he, and Daphne had collapsed, unconscious to the stone floor.

#####

Emerald green eyes opened and Harry found himself lying face down on a cold stone floor, his head pounding like an inebriated troll was rattling around in his skull.

"Holy crap," he groaned and rolled over onto his back. "What the hell happened?"

He sat up, slowly, and looked around, seeing no sign of Daphne but a glance at the wall beside him sent a shiver down his spine that he couldn't have suppressed even if he'd had the awareness to try as he read the foot high, gleaming red letters scrawled on the wall.

HER SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER.

Frantically, he shot to his feet, wavering slightly as a wave of dizziness hit him. "No, no, no, no," he muttered as he searched the hall for any sign of Daphne. He closed his eyes, struggling to control his suddenly panicked breathing, and focused as hard as he could on the bond.

Hermione was still barely there, a mere whisper of a presence in his mind. Susan was a much stronger presence, filling him with warmth and comfort and he could tell by the sensation that she was still under the effects of the Dreamless Sleep potion that Madam Pomfrey had poured into her.

A flood of relief filled him when he found Daphne. She was muted, like Susan, indicating that she was most likely unconscious but she didn't feel as if she was hurt. His eyes opened and for a few moments he wavered in indecision. Amelia had left before they even left the Hospital Wing and who knew how long he'd been out? Dumbledore was gone. Professor McGonagall had taken over as interim Headmaster during Dumbledore's forced absence from the castle but he wasn't sure where she was. Neville, Hermione, and Susan were unavailable to him and he didn't even know where the Slytherin common rooms were if he wanted to ask Tracey or Blaise for help.

His thoughts spun wildly and he shoved his hands into his pockets to stop them trembling while he tried to decide what to do. The feeling of parchment against his right hand startled him for a moment and derailed his train of thought as he pulled it out and glanced at it.

The note was short, written in a hand he didn't recognize, but what it said had his eyes hardening into emerald chips as a cold fury replaced the fear and worry.

 _Potter-_

 _I have petrified your mudblood. Your friends and allies are missing or driven from this castle. You are alone. The entrance to the Chamber is located in the second floor girls loo. The sink with the broken taps. I will expect you, alone, before sunset or all you love will die._

#####

When the portrait to the Gryffindor common room slammed open, screams erupted from more than one student in their surprise. Every head turned, every eye fixed on the dark, menacing figure that prowled through the short tunnel leading out into the corridors.

Fred and George Weasley had heard stories from their father and their oldest brothers over the years. Stories of dragons and ancient tombs and magics. Stories of cursed, charmed, and enchanted artifacts that caused hundreds of effects, some interesting, some benign, some horrifying.

Nothing they'd ever heard prepared them for the sight of an enraged Harry Potter as his eyes, lit as if with an emerald fire, swept across the room. A very real terror gripped them when those eyes landed on them and he strode forward directly to them. They didn't _think_ they'd done anything to piss the second year off, but both found themselves frantically searching their memories for anything they might have done, any prank they might have set up and possibly forgotten about, that might have caused such a reaction from the terrifying figure striding toward them.

"Gred? Forge?" They shivered at the icy cold rage in his voice but squared their shoulders. If he was using their nicknames it wasn't likely that he was angry at _them_.

"Uh… yeah, Harry? What can we do for you?"

"I need you to track down Professor McGonagall, and I need you to get in contact with Amelia Bones."

"What's going on?"

Harry raised one trembling fist to show a piece of parchment sticking out from between his fingers which slowly uncurled until one of the twins was able to extract the note. Their eyes flicked rapidly over it, the freckles smattered across their faces standing out sharply as their complexions paled dramatically.

"I don't have anyone that I can count on right now," he whispered. "Neville and Hermione and Susan are all in the Hospital Wing and Daphne… this fucking _bastard_ took Daphne. Knocked us both out in the Charms Corridor and when I woke up she was gone, and this note was in my pocket." He glanced out one of the many windows that ran around Gryffindor Tower, noting that the sun was already halfway below the edge of the distant mountains.

"Fuck that, we'll come with you Harry," Twin two said, shooting up from his seat as his brother nodded and quickly joined him.

"NO!" They flinched at the bellowed word. "No, I'm sorry but you can't. I don't have time for this. I promised Amelia I wouldn't do something like with the stone last year without asking for help. I promised the girls I wouldn't try to do everything by myself anymore but I _can't_ risk Daphne's life by taking anyone with me. I can't. And I don't have time to find the professor or get ahold of Amelia myself."

"Harry, you know this is probably a trap of some kind, right?" Twin one asked, carefully.

Harry nodded, anger the only thing keeping away the terror that wanted to well up inside him.

"I know, guys. But I can't take that risk. That's why I need you two to move, as fast as you can."

They opened their mouths, but before they could say anything Professor McGonagall's voice came, magically amplified and echoing throughout the school.

" _All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staffroom. Immediately, please."_

Harry cursed under his breath and the twins eyed him for a moment as Ron and their little sister Ginny sidled up to them. Ginny was staring, wide eyed at Harry as the air around him, already thick with power, grew even heavier.

"They must have found the message the Heir painted on the wall where he attacked me and Daphne."

"What message?" Ron asked and he paled to match his brothers when Harry told him. He'd come to like Daphne, to a degree, over the limited time that he'd spent with them since their reconciliation over his behavior in their first year and hearing she was in danger did not sit well with him.

"Look, go you two," Harry said as he turned back toward the entrance to the common room where several students had started streaming in to join those already present. "I've got to move."

Before anyone could say anything else he sprinted out of the room, his school robes flapping around him as he ran and students scattered out of his path.

Fred and George were moving before their siblings could react. "Staffroom," Twin one muttered. "We've got to tell McGonagall what's going on. George? Why don't you head to the Hospital Wing? Madam Pomfrey will probably let you use her Floo to contact the DMLE."

"Got it, Fred."

In moments they'd left the tower, leaving a room filled with students to whisper and mutter as they stared after them while Ron and Ginny slowly returned to whatever they'd been doing before Harry had come into the tower, unsure of what else they could possibly do.

#####

Harry ran through the halls, doing his best to avoid anyone but he didn't have to try very hard. The corridors were empty for most of his journey with only brief glimpses of students down different corridors making their way to the common rooms. His mind spun and whirled.

 _I still don't know what's doing this. What was petrifying the students in the first place? It's obviously a creature of some kind, but one the Heir is controlling? A snake? If he's doing it maybe I can talk to the thing?_

He reached the loo in record time and burst into the room, ignoring Myrtles startled screech as he streaked for the sinks, rapidly turning taps until he found one that didn't work.

"That one's never worked," Myrtle said from behind him. "Not even when I was a student here."

"It's supposed to be the entrance to the Chamber," Harry said. "Do you know how it opens?"

"No idea. That girl just hisses at it and it opens. Creepiest thing I've heard since I died."

"Hisses?" Harry blinked and turned his attention back to the sink, his breath coming fast from his run and he wipe a sheen of sweat from his forehead with his sleeve as he carefully inspected every inch of the sink, looking for anything out of place.

Finally, he noticed a tiny carving of a snake on one of the taps, so small that one really had to be looking for it in order to notice it.

"Hissing. Snake. Gotta need Parsletongue to open it. Hell, no wonder no one's found the damn thing in a thousand years if you have to be a Parslemouth. Open!" he tried and waited expectantly but nothing happened.

"Why are you telling the sink to open?"

"I'm trying to use Parsletongue," Harry snapped, spinning to glare at the somewhat homely ghost who looked rather affronted by his tone.

"You don't need to snap at _me_ ," she snapped, irritably. "I was just asking a question."

Harry took a deep breath and held it for a moment before blowing it out.

"I'm sorry, Myrtle. My friend is in danger and I'm just a bit stressed. I didn't mean to snap at you." He gave her a small smile but quickly turned back and stared at the little carving of the snake, squinting his eyes as he tried to imagine it to be a real, living snake.

§ _Open,§_ he hissed, and that time he heard it as the sibilant sounds slipped past his lips. A low grinding noise echoed through the room as the sink slid back into the wall and the pipe lowered to floor level even as it expanded into a large tunnel easily three feet wide that descended straight down into darkness.

"Myrtle?" he asked as he sat down on the floor and slid forward until his legs were hanging over the edge into the tunnel. "Please, if a Professor, or especially a red haired witch wearing a monocle come in here, let them know that I'm down there and I'm trying to rescue Daphne Greengrass." He didn't wait for an answer. He simply pushed forward and slid down into the hole, dropping immediately out of view.

#####

Daphne's eyes shot open and she found herself lying face down on a cold stone floor in a half inch deep puddle of rancid smelling water. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and looked around at the dank, massive cavern that she found herself in. A quick check showed that her wand was missing and she tensed, fear gripping her as she continued to look around.

Not far from her was a figure, lying sprawled out on the floor wearing the robes of a Hogwarts student, but the figure that strode from the shadows nearby quickly took up most of her attention.

"Daphne Greengrass," he said, a cruel smile on his otherwise handsome features. He had dark brown hair and was similarly dressed in a Hogwarts uniform but of an older looking cut and style. The green and silver striped tie around his neck and the green piping on his robes easily gave away his house. What was stranger, was the somewhat translucent look to him, as if he wasn't entirely solid.

"Tom Riddle, I presume?" she asked, doing her best to keep her voice level.

His answering smile reminded her of the cold, lifeless expression on a snake. "In the flesh, well… not quite, not yet, at least."

"What's going on?"

"Someone found my diary, someone… very special. A little girl. She wrote in it all year long, pouring out her secrets to me, sharing her pain and misery. Alone, friendless, abandoned by people she thought might actually be friends to her… you should be so ashamed of yourself, Miss Greengrass, you and your bond mates."

"How do you know about that?" she asked as she slowly rose to her feet, never taking her eyes off of him as she noticed he held her wand in his left hand and another, unfamiliar wand in his right.

He started twirling the wand in his right hand between long, spindly fingers. "Well, she told me about it, of course. She realized when she first met you all. She's a talented little thing, you see, able to see things that others can't. It's a very rare ability. And when she told me the story, told me about the supposed Boy-Who-Lived… well, I just had to know more."

"You're the one that's been attacking the students."

He gave her a mocking bow. "Of course. I stopped after a time, though. Eventually, something far more interesting came up. I've wondered for many months, now, how it is that a baby, a mere child, was able to defeat the greatest sorcerer the world has ever known?"

Daphne felt as if she was losing her mind. What the hell was wrong with this guy? What was he? And that diary? A flicker of her eyes showed the book, lying closed next to the girl on the floor but she quickly pulled her gaze back to Riddle as he stared at her with a knowing look in his eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

"I am talking about Harry Potter!" he roared, his face suddenly twisting in rage as he took two long strides toward her, now only ten feet away. "The Dark Lord was defeated by a child. Why? How? Was it because of this bond the little chit wrote about? Tell me!"

"I don't know how Harry beat him, or _if_ Harry beat him. No one does," she said in a tremulous voice, her heart battering at her rib cage as it pounded in her chest. "The sorting hat told us that the killing curse that hit Harry was what tore his soul apart and that's why we bonded. The pieces needed to go somewhere, so they found us."

"Hmmm…" Riddle hummed quietly, looking thoughtful as he digested that bit of information.

"Why does it matter to you, anyway?" she asked. "Voldemort was long after your time."

"Oh, my dear, sweet, stupid little girl." A stab of anger shot through her at that but she did her best not to show it. "Lord Voldemort is my past, present, and future."

With that he turned and his right hand raised, wand slashing letters of fire in the air which he let her read before they rearranged themselves into a well known sentence.

"Yes, even as a student here I had begun building my persona. A half blood, living in the house of the snakes, I had to be especially ruthless to ensure my house mates did not learn of my… unfortunate ancestry. Given my _muggle_ fathers name by my mother…" he shuddered in disgust and she took a hesitant step back at the maddened expression that stole across his otherwise handsome features.

"Why am I here?" she asked. "Why are we down here at all?"

"Why, we are waiting, my dear," he said, seemingly surprised by her question. "Waiting for Potter. I wish to see this… uninspiring child with my own eyes. I want to determine how he could possibly have bested me in my prime."

Daphne wrapped her arms around herself, cold in the large room and with her clothes soaked in rancid water and just let the apparition that was Tom Riddle ramble on, cataloguing everything he said and doing her best to commit it to memory.

"Harry won't be here," she said, suddenly, interrupting his rant. "He doesn't know where the entrance to the Chamber is."

"Ah, but when I had the little chit attack the two of you in the hall, I also had her leave a note in his pocket, telling him where to search to find the entrance. Only he, out of everyone in this school will be able to open it, and when he does, we will have our reckoning."

At that Daphne wasn't really sure how to feel. A part of her felt hope, hope that Harry was coming to help, but another part was terrified that this would be one foe that Harry might not be prepared to face.

#####

"What a pretentious ass," Harry muttered, staring up at the large, vault like door with i's many snakes decorating the circular disk. When he'd landed at the bottom of the long, filthy slide, Harry had his wand in his hand and didn't even bother attempting to clean his robes. He'd moved as quickly and quietly as he could through the tunnels, idly wondering once again just how far beneath the school he was.

"How is it we keep ending up so far underground?" he'd mused as he carefully crept his way along. The snake skin he'd found had sent an icy sliver of fear through his chest, at least twenty feet long he only hoped it didn't belong to the beast that was responsible for the attacks.

All told, it took him less than twenty minutes to get from the slide to where he stood staring at what had to be the entrance into the Chamber itself and he stood as straight as he could, squaring his shoulders and readying his wand before he looked at the glittering emerald eyes of one of the nearest snakes and hissed, _§Open.§_

It started moving around the edge of the door and each snake it passed retreated in toward the center with a series of loud clanks. Moments later the massive door slowly swung out toward him and as soon as there was enough room he slipped through and into the massive chamber beyond.

"Harry Potter!" a voice called from deep within the chamber. Looking across he could make out three figures standing near the far wall next to a massive and truly hideous statue of, what he assumed to be, Salazar Slytherin. One of the two standing figures had long, honey blond hair and he felt an instant flood of relief seeing her standing, staring defiantly at the taller figure before her and the wand he held in his left hand pointing directly at her face. "Please, come join us, we have much to discuss."

Harry strode forward, his wand held out before him, warily until he was close enough to recognize the figure, despite its less than solid appearance.

"Riddle?" he blurted out. "How are you here?"

Riddle waved his right hand to the crumpled figure lying on the floor and Harry's eyes widened as he noted the missing shoes and near white blond hair. _"Luna!"_

"Yes, Miss Lovegood was most helpful," Riddle sneered as Harry came to a stop fifteen feet away from them. "The poor girl, she poured her heart and her soul into my diary, confessing all her worries and doubts. I was so nice, so sympathetic. I was her only friend."

"We're her friends!" Harry roared angrily.

"Are you?" Riddle asked, almost sounding curious to know the answer. "You've spoken to her only a few times all year. Did you notice how her housemates have bullied her? How they've taken her belongings? Her clothes? Her shoes?" He snorted derisively. "Some friends you are. Too wrapped up in your own petty concerns to even notice a 'friend' in need of your help."

Harry felt stricken. He had noticed. He'd noticed but he'd never bothered to try to talk to her about it. "Oh, Luna, I'm so sorry," he muttered.

"She can't hear you, and she won't wake," Riddle told them. "She's dying, and as she does, I grow stronger. Soon I will live again and I will take up where I left off, starting with destroying you and proving I am the greatest sorcerer this world has ever seen!"

"Harry, he's Voldemort. Riddle _is_ Voldemort," Daphne called out.

"Reducto!"

The curse left Harry's wand with blinding speed, streaking across the space between them to pass harmlessly through the vaporous figure and crash against the wall next to the statue, gouging out a chunk of stone a foot deep.

"That won't work, Potter," Riddle hissed. "My pet will kill you and your little bitch here and once I am alive I will unleash her on the rest of this school and clean out all the rabble that have infected my proud ancestors legacy."

"You're just as insane as you were last year," Harry snarled, his mind whirling, searching for a solution. Dammit, if he couldn't curse Riddle, what could he do?

"What was that?"

"I saw you, the current you, last year," Harry told him, hoping that by keeping Riddle talking he could stall for the Professors or Amelia to arrive and help. "You're nothing more than a parasite, a wraith hitching a ride on real wizards just to stay alive. You're not powerful. You're not scary. You're nothing."

"I AM LORD VOLDEM-"

"NO ONE GIVES A SHIT!" Harry cut him off, roaring back at the incensed wraith. "God, you're just a memory in a diary. A wraith, less than a ghost, really, floating around somewhere, helpless. A bunch of first year students stopped you stealing the Sorcerers Stone last year and you haven't managed to actually kill anyone this year despite five students and one cat getting petrified."

"They were lucky. The Basilisk's gaze is deadly when looked at directly, but they all saw only a reflection, hence why they were only petrified," Riddle hissed angrily. "Trust me, the others will not be so lucky, and I will be certain to kill your friends in the hospital wing myself."

"You aren't going to touch them," Harry scoffed, far more confidently than he actually felt. "You keep going on about how powerful you are and 'greatest sorcerer' this and 'greatest sorcerer' that. I might hate his guts, but there's no denying that Dumbledore was and is a more powerful sorcerer than you ever were. It's always said how he was the only one that Voldemort was ever afraid of."

Daphne suddenly found herself banished against the wall and she hit with a grunt and a pained cry as her head bounced off the unforgiving stones. She didn't fall to the ground though, and realized that Riddle had stuck her there with a sticking charm, leaving her unable to move but still able to watch as he faced off against Harry, both wands held before him.

"Dumbledore was driven from this castle by the very memory of me!" he roared.

"No, he was pulled away by idiots that shouldn't be in charge of a kneazle much less a school full of children!" Harry roared back. "Stupid, inbred, fear filled idiots pushed Dumbledore out, not you."

"Enough of this." Riddle stood straight and turned, hissing at the large statue. _§Speak to me, Slytherin. Greatest of the Hogwarts four,§_ he hissed and their came a grinding of stone against stone as the mouth opened, revealing a dark tunnel. Harry could vaguely see something moving deep within it and he back away, rapidly, his feet sliding across the stone to make sure he didn't slip or lose his footing on the damp surface.

 _Shite_ , he though as a truly massive snake slithered from the opening and before it turned its head in his direction he spun and ran to the side, putting as much distance between himself and it as he could. Blindly he cast a series of blasting and exploding hexes in the general direction of the creature. He heard several impacts and an enraged hissing but didn't think he'd done much damage.

Riddle hissed out a word and Harry dove behind one of the many pillars lining the chamber as a sickly yellow light passed over him and impacted another pillar behind him, showering the ground with stone chips. Harry rolled and waved his wand, causing the chips to grow to the size of baseballs and with a flick of his wand he banished them toward the beast.

"That won't do you any good, Potter!" Riddle called.

 _He's right,_ Harry thought. He remembered reading about Basilisks when they were searching the library, trying to figure out what the beast of Slytherin might be. _Dammit, 'Spiders flee before it' why didn't I remember that?_ The Basilisk was even more resistant to magic than the troll from the year before, there was little chance he would be able to damage it with the way he usually cast. He needed something big if he hoped to have any chance to hurt it.

A shadow slid across the floor in front of him and he scrambled around the pillar just as the beast's head came around the pillar, fangs slamming down just behind him.

"HARRY!" Daphne screamed, but he ignored her for the moment and focused, pushing everything he had into a single desperate attack.

To Harry's eyes, as his mind raced, time seemed to slow and he reached deep as his right foot struck the ground, pushing him up from a crawling position. He reached deeper, hauling as hard as he could on that well of power that he could always feel, like the presence of his bond mates in his mind, hovering just out of sight. His left foot came up and struck the stones, pushing him forward as thought after thought flitted through his mind.

Hermione.

Neville.

Susan.

Daphne.

Amelia.

Fred and George.

Hannah, Tracey, and Blaise.

The wand in his hand warmed rapidly, so fast that he thought he could hear a sizzling of his flesh where he grasped the smooth handle.

His right foot came down again, propelling him forward around the pillar until he could see a wall of deep green scales higher than he was tall just six feet in front of him.

His wand started to vibrate so powerfully that his hand became numb from the sensation and only his vice like grip kept him from dropping it entirely as multicolored sparks danced along the shaft, smoke rising from the tip of the length of holly.

" _I do not want to kill anyone, if I could help it. But I have people that care about me, and that I care about, and anyone that threatens them will learn that I_ will _use every means at my disposal to defend them, even if it meant my own life"_

The words he spoke to Rangok echoed in his mind as his arm came up and he pushed every last bit of power he could down his arm into the brightly glowing and smoking wand in his hand as his mouth opened and a single word was ripped from his lungs.

" **REDUCTO!"**

 **#####**

In the Headmasters office, empty save for a colorful bird sitting on an ornate, golden perch, and the constant spinning, twirling, and puffing of the various artifacts and knickknacks dotting the tables and shelves, a sudden burst of music trilled through the air. A beautiful, inspiring, uplifting tune.

Fawkes rose into the air, large wings propelling the magnificent creature up, up, until it swooped down like a bird of prey toward a shelf along the far wall near the window. His talons snatched up a dingy, wrinkled old hat and with a burst of eldritch fire both bird and sorting hat vanished, leaving the office in silence once again.

#####

The blinding orb of red light that shot from Harry's wand was easily three feet across. A concussive wave of force rippled outward as the wand in his hand disintegrated and he was blown backwards, flipping over to land with a crunch on the cold stones as the reductor slammed into the side of the enormous snake with all the force of a locomotive. A massive explosion of sound ripped through the Chamber and the beast was lifted from the ground, flying thirty feet through the air as it roared out its pain for all to hear.

Harry's ears rang and he slowly, painfully, pushed himself up to his knees. His chest hurt, his head was pounding, and he gasped in agony when he put his right hand down to steady himself on the stones. Squinting his eyes open he took in the mangled look of his hand, splinters of wood sticking out from his wrist and forearm as blood ran from underneath the holster strapped to his arm.

"My wand," he muttered uncomprehendingly.

A burst of fire erupted above him and the most magnificent bird he'd ever seen appeared in a ball of flames, clutching something in its talons. It dropped whatever it was holding on the stones in front of him and came in to land next to his hand. Tilting its head, great pearly tears seeped from its eyes and started dripping onto his mangled flesh, hissing as each one dripped onto an open wound.

"Put me on, Potter!"

Harry looked up, still dazed to realize the something the bird (Fawkes, some part of his mind supplied, remembering his visit to the headmasters office after Finch-Fletchley was petrified) had dropped onto the stones was the sorting hat. The rip in the hat's brim that served as its mouth was pointed toward him and he reached out with his good hand to grasp it and pulled the hat onto his head.

" _You certainly have been busy, Mister Potter, haven't you?"_ the hat whispered in his mind. Dimply he felt the pain in his hand receding and he could just hear the roaring of the basilisk as Fawkes flew off and away from him.

 _"I haven't been trying to."_

 _"Be that as it may, Mister Potter, I must say that Godric himself would be quite impressed with your actions since you started at this school."_

 _"That's good and all, but I'm kind of in a battle to the death, here."_

 _"And I am here to help, so don't be so impertinent,"_ the hat snapped irritably.

 _"Sorry."_

 _"Hmph. Your wand has been destroyed, Mister Potter. I might be able to help you, but you'll need to offer something in return."_

 _"What? And what do I need to offer?"_ Harry asked, desperately. _"I have to kill it. I have to stop him and protect them."_

 _"This School has become a shadow of its former self. Something the Founders would be ashamed to see from the once proud edifice they created. Hogwarts was meant to be a beacon, a bastion of magical learning and has since become a cesspool, a breeding ground for bigots and maniacs."_

 _"And what am I supposed to do about that?"_

 _"Whatever you can. I ask for no guarantees, just a promise that you will do the best you can to see this school returned to its former glory."_

The request didn't even require ay thought on Harry's part. If that's what he needed to do, that's what he would do. _"I can do that. I swear, I'll do whatever I can."_

 _"Very good, then, Mister Potter. You might want to check in with the Goblins, when you get a chance. Watch your head."_

Before Harry could question either of the final statements something heavy struck the top of his head and stars flared before his eyes. He wrenched the hat off his head and something clattered onto the ground in front of him as he opened his eyes again and saw a beautiful sword lying on the ground in front of him. The blade gleamed in the torch light and a series of rubies set into the hilt shone as if lit with an inner fire all their own.

It wasn't a wand, but it'd have to do. He scrambled to his feet, snatching up the sword in his right hand and pressed his back against the pillar, carefully peering around it.

Riddle still stood near where Daphne was stuck to the wall, tears streaming down her cheeks as he yelled at the Basilisk. _§Kill him!§_ he shrieked. _§You can still smell him. Find him and kill him!§_

He moved, sliding more around the pillar and glanced toward the beast. Fawkes was in the air, swooping and diving, screaming out a battle cry that filled Harry with warmth and courage, a swelling from deep within his gut that he couldn't explain but welcomed, nonetheless. He chanced a look and realized what Riddle meant. The Basilisk was blind. Two gaping holes, streaming blood and gore showed where its eyes had once been and Harry felt a glimmer of hope at that.

He had a better chance if he could actually _see_ what he was trying to fight.

He took several deep, shaky breaths, pushing down the fear coursing through him and focusing on the feelings brought out by Fawkes song as the bird continued to harry the enraged Basilisk. He thought again of the people counting on him, his bond mates waiting for him, his friends, his family.

With those thoughts firmly in mind he rushed out from behind the pillar and did the Gryffindor thing. Charged in head first.

"AAAHHHHH!" he screamed as he ran and the beast's head whipped in his direction. It hissed, mouth opening to reveal fangs as long as his leg and sharp as any sword as it lunged forward.

Harry dove to his left, swinging with the sword in his right hand as he did. A shock ran up his arm and he knew he'd at least scored a glancing blow as he rolled and came quickly to his feet. His entire body ached with a bone deep weariness, both from the frenzied activity and the magical exhaustion he knew was creeping in. As he stood, blood dripped from the sword in his hand and another surge of confidence swept through him.

He could hurt it!

If he could hurt it, he could kill it.

His eyes flicked up and widened dramatically as a gaping maw filled with teeth dominated his vision. _Fuck!_ He thought, and desperately thrust forward with the sword.

The scream that ripped from his lungs was louder than any he'd ever uttered as a line of fire lanced across his chest and his right bicep exploded in pain. Acid flowed through his veins, and the edges of his vision blackened for a moment before he stubbornly shoved it all aside.

He found himself lying on his left side on the floor, the Basilisk right in front of him and a glimmering in its mouth told him the sword was shoved up, through the top pallet and into the creatures brain. He rolled onto his back, groaning painfully and saw a foot long piece of broken fang had pierced his right arm, clean through. The front of his robes and uniform were torn and a wide slash, starting near the outside of his left collar bone ran down across his chest until the bleeding wound stopped just above his navel.

"Oh, gods," he groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position. Stumbling to his feet he turned and staggered toward Riddle's wide eyed form. The, much more solid looking, sixteen-year-old figure was gaping at him in astonishment. Coming to a stop a foot away from Riddle Harry coughed painfully and turned his head, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the stones.

"So much for the Beast of Slytherin," he growled out in a hoarse voice.

"Harry," Daphne whimpered, staring at him in dismay. "Merlin, Harry…" she trailed off, unable to speak.

"So much for…" Riddle trailed off, his shock morphing into glee before he threw his head back and roared with laughter. "You fool!" he bellowed as Harry suddenly staggered and slumped to his left, falling heavily to the stone floor right next to Luna. "Basilisk Venom is one of the most deadly substances in the world! You may have killed the beast, but you are still dead, Harry Potter."

 _Crap_. Harry shook his head, feeling slowly leaving his body. Rolling onto his back again he reached over, limbs feeling like lead and grasped the fang stuck through his arm with his left hand. With a pained grunt he wrenched it free, grasping the tooth firmly as he started to crawl toward Luna.

"There is no escape, Potter!" Riddle crowed. "Crawl all you like. Crawl like the vermin you are. You are still going to die."

"That's the difference… between me… and you…" Harry huffed, struggling to remain conscious. "You're afraid to die. You're… you're terrified… of it… But I'm not… I'm not afraid to die… not… if it means… protecting the people… that I care about."

His arms gave out and he found himself lying on his face once again, the cold stones pressed against his cheek. Rolling onto his side, he switched the fang to his right hand and glared at Riddle who was standing there, gleefully watching him before his eyes flicked over to Daphne.

"I'm sorry," he whispered and he looked back at Riddle one last time. When he spoke, the loathing in his voice was unmistakable. "Die, you son of a bitch."

"NO!"

Harry lifted his arm, holding the fang tightly, and drove it down into the glossy cover of the diary where it lay on the stone right beside him. From the diary a high pitched shrieking cry rose as the fang pierced the cover and ink, like blood, flowed out from around the fang. He pulled back and stabbed down again, and again, and again, each time drawing more and more ink from the vile artifact.

The shrieking dimmed, becoming quieter, even as an explosion ripped through the room. Just before consciousness left him and the cold blackness of oblivion embraced him, Harry felt his body being moved and a pair of ice blue eyes stared pleadingly into his.

Then, he knew nothing more.

#####

"I don't know how to get through to this kid! I swear if he's dead I'm going to kill him!"

Kingsley ignored his boss as she sped through the halls of Hogwarts beside him on their way to the second floor girls loo. It still boggled him that the entrance to the fabled Chamber of Secrets was in a girls restroom. He shook that aside though and focused on Amelia Bones as she continued to rant and scream about one Harry James Potter. Kingsley had to say, if whatever was down there _didn't_ kill him, he might actually feel sorry for the kid after Amelia got her hands on him.

It hadn't been half an hour since Madam Pomfrey, the on duty Mediwitch at Hogwarts, had appeared in the fireplace in his bosses office, screaming about a kidnapping and Harry Potter. It took a bit of time, but eventually Amelia had gathered him, Rufus, Auror Cadet Tonks, and Senior Auror Gawain Robards in her office and they'd all stepped through the Floo to find the entire Hogwarts staff, including that blowhard Lockhart, and a pair of redheaded twin boys standing there, all of them arguing amongst themselves.

The four of them, along with Madam Pomfrey, Headmistress McGonagall, and a handful of other professors were striding through the school not long after they arrived and Amelia hadn't stopped ranting since they left the Staffroom.

"Amelia," he murmured, cutting through her rant as the door to the loo loomed ahead of them. "Stow it for now, let's worry about rescuing the kids, first."

Her jaw clamped shut she growled through her nose as she threw open the door. The ghost floating in the room above a large, open pipe let out a surprised shriek and shot up through the ceiling for a moment before coming back down.

"Harry Potter went down-" She cut herself off as, without breaking stride, Amelia approached the hole and jumped in, her lit wand pointing down as she disappeared into the blackness. Kingsley stood by and motioned the others through one at a time and before he jumped down he turned to address the ghost.

"Thank you, Miss," he told her. "Sorry to run, but we're in a hurry."

The ride took nearly a minute, and just as he was starting to wonder when it was going to end the pipe leveled out and he shot out of the end, landing on a cushioning charm amidst a mass of old and broken animal bones. Scrambling to his feet he took off after the others who had already moved on down the rough hewn tunnel in the only direction offered and within moments caught up to them.

The entire group strode quickly, largely in silence, save for Amelia's dark mutterings until they reached the massive door leading into an enormous open cavern with a series of deep pools on each side and two rows of large pillars running the length. Wands drawn and with Madam Pomfrey at the back they rushed into the room, the Aurors fanning out into a frequently used combat formation.

As one they came to a stuttering halt, mouths dropping open.

"Circes saggy tits," Rufus breathed staring wide eyed at the scene before them.

Lying across the left side of the room was the singularly, most terrifying creature any of them had ever seen. Six feet high, easily sixty-five or seventy feet in length. A solid mass of bone, muscle, and magic resistant scales. Kingsley could only gape at the, obviously dead, fucking _Basilisk_ lying in the chamber in front of them.

A quiet sobbing finally caught their attention and the group started to move, carefully edging past the corpse of the great beast and toward the far end of the room where three bedraggled figures huddled against the wall. One of them, a tiny blond waif that he didn't recognize sat apart from the other two, curled into a ball against the wall with a haunted look on her face and tears streaming from her too-large silvery blue eyes. Next, his gaze moved to the right and he took in the recognizable form of Daphne Greengrass, sitting up with her back against the wall with a tattered, blood covered form pulled across her lap.

"Poppy!" he bellowed and felt more than saw the Mediwitch rush past him to almost slide to her knees next to the broken form of Harry Potter, her wand already dancing over him. Absently, he noted a large bird, with beautiful red, gold, and blue plumage sitting next to Daphne's leg, but he didn't think much of it as he stepped closer and looked Potter over.

His eyes were closed, but his face was set in a grimace of pain. Through a tear in his right sleeve he could see a gaping would that was slowly closing before his eyes and a large slash across his chest, easily a foot and a half in length. Scrapes and bruises marred nearly every inch of visible skin and he was filthy and soaked through with grime and water.

Daphne was hunched over him, the tips of her fingers gently caressing his cheeks, seemingly attempting to smooth away the pained expression on his face.

"Miss Greengrass?" he asked, his deep voice echoing off the stone wall beside them, and she lifted her head, staring at him with tear filled eyes. "Miss Greengrass, are you hurt?" he desperately wanted to ask what happened, but decided that, unless Amelia objected, it could wait until they were all back at the Hospital Wing.

Distantly she shook her head and he let out a sigh of relief. The other girl appeared to be uninjured, and if they were both fine, medical efforts could be focused on Potter. In the back of his mind he couldn't help but think that at least it looked like the kid was alive, this time.

It took another ten minutes of Poppy waving her wand and administering some of the potions she'd brought with her in her bag, but eventually, she pronounced Potter safe to move. Amelia floated the kid off the floor while Daphne walked beside her and Tonks gently coaxed the other girl to her feet, leading her from the room as the remaining Aurors swept up everything they could find to bring with them.

Kingsley shook his head as he wrenched a sword, of all things, from the beasts mouth and, with Rufus carrying the destroyed book they'd found, a foot long fang from the Basilisk, and the Hogwarts Sorting Hat, they all made their way out of the room, the massive door closing silently behind them. One thing was for sure, Kingsley knew that this was going to be one _hell_ of a story.


	28. Aftermath

**Author's Notes: Rotten Writer, here again gang.**

 **Okay, I know I said in my last note that this chapter would be the wrap up. Well, it's MOST of the wrap up. Honestly I thought I'd be done with second year with this chapter, completely finishing up everything that needed to happen and ready to jump into third year. Turns out I underestimated just how much I needed to tie up and wrap together to really finish this year off. As it is this chapter had already risen past 12,000 words in length, and while that's not my longest chapter to date, I realized that to do everything else I need to do still would probably more than double the current size and that's just a** _ **bit**_ **much, I think.**

 **So, next chapter will see us finally finishing up with this year and we'll be ready to move onto year three.**

 **We're going to see the aftermath, some of it at least, of what happened down in the Chamber. Lot of information imparted here. I'm hoping everyone enjoys and looking forward to hearing what people think of it. Yes there are some obvious things not mentioned, trust me, you'll know them when you see them but they** _ **will**_ **be adressed in future chapters, I promise everyone that.**

 **Disclaimer: I still do not own the Harry Potter franchise in any way. I'm just writing for fun and to keep me in the habit when I'm stuck on my original work.**

 **Now, for chapter 27 of Soul Scars!**

Soul Scars Part Two

Darkness Within

By,

Rtnwriter

"-Blood Replenishing potions! Hurry!"

"-re's more venom in his blood then there is blood! How is he even alive?"

"Phoenix tears, but Fawkes is out, he can't cry anymore."

"Half-a-dozen fractures…"

#####

"Keep that compress on his chest, I want to try to minimize the scarring as much as possible."

"Madam Pomfrey? What happened to his hand and wrist?"

"Miss Greengrass said his wand blew up in his hand-"

"What!? I've never heard of someone overpowering a wand like that!"

"And no one else is going to hear about it from you, either, are they?"

"No, Madam Pomfrey, of course not…"

"Just, vanish the splinters of wood and…"

"… What is _that?"_

"… What _is_ that?"

"Is that… is that a… a _feather_?"

#####

"Nothing more to be done, Amelia."

"What the hell do you mean, 'nothing', Poppy?"

"I mean just that Madam Bones! And I'll thank you not to talk to me like that."

"… I'm sorry, Poppy. I'm sorry I'm just…"

"I understand, Amy, it's all right. He's as healed as we can get him. His magic has been unstable, all over the place really. And his temperature just won't go down, but it hasn't changed either so…"

#####

"I can't figure it out, Amy. It's been a week, a solid week, now. Harry is still unconscious, Miss Greengrass is barely coherent half the time and poor Susan… well, you saw how she was the day they were attacked."

Daphne and Susan both opened their eyes simultaneously, but neither moved as they simply listened, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling of the Hospital Wing above them.

"Susan?" Daphne asked after several minutes simply listening to Madam Pomfrey and Amelia talking in the Mediwitch's office.

"Yeah, Daphne?"

"I feel… pretty good. I mean… it still hurts, cause of Hermione but… otherwise not too bad, I think."

"Yeah, Daphne. Me too."

They were silent again, neither reacting as they heard a set of soft footsteps passing by the foot of their bed. A few moments later a squeaking sound echoed throughout the wing and both of them sat up even as the voices in the next room cut off and a cold breeze began to flow that had both girls shivering, just slightly. At the far end of the Wing a figure, wearing nothing but a pair of stripped hospital pajama pants, stood by a wide open window, obviously the source of the noise they'd heard, and the breeze blowing into the wing.

His heavily scarred back was toward them and an untidy mop of black hair crowned his head, giving ample evidence as to who this particular figure was.

Both girls were scrambling from their beds before they had a chance to think about the action. Dimly, they could hear footsteps behind them as their bare feet padded across the cold floor but they paid those footsteps no attention, focused as they were on the figure across the room. Daphne came up on his left side while Susan approached his right.

The blond hissed when she put her hand on his shoulder. His skin felt so hot to the touch that it surprised her for a moment as Susan placed her hand on his right shoulder, similarly shocked by the heat emanating from his skin.

"Harry?" Daphne whispered, studying his profile as he looked out the window across the darkened grounds. There was no moon, that night, and the stars were blocked by a layer of clouds leaving everything outside the castle looking like a sea of impenetrable darkness.

"That feels good," he muttered, his words slurring together.

"What does?" Susan asked as she gently, almost absently, stroked his arm.

He took a deep breath of the cold air through his nose and exhaled through his mouth as a small tremor ran through his body.

"The cold," he mumbled. "It feels good."

"Miss Greengrass? Miss Bones?"

They turned slightly at the sound of the low, worried tones of Madam Pomfrey's voice behind them to find her and Amelia standing about ten feet away, both of them watching Harry with concerned looks.

"Do you think you might be able to escort Harry back to his bed?" she asked and the girls nodded, coaxing Harry away from the window. Susan led, taking his right hand gently in both of hers while Daphne closed the window and when Susan finally got Harry to turn back toward them, all four women sucked in a sharp breath at the image that greeted them. It wasn't the huge scar across his chest that shocked them, though Susan had more than a few questions about _that_. It wasn't the blank, almost emotionless expression on his face, either.

No, it was the startlingly bright _glowing_ of his irises that brought them up short. The girls found themselves automatically searching their bond for the anger that usually accompanied that kind of light in his eyes, but there was nothing.

Quickly, they managed to direct him to his bed and within minutes he was sound asleep. Susan murmured quietly to her aunt, who cast a silencing charm over him as all four women sank into chairs on either side of his bed, the two girls on one side with both older witches sitting opposite them.

"Okay," Susan said. "What in Merlin's name happened? That scar, his eyes…" she trailed off, staring at the upper half of the vicious scar across his torso that was visible above the sheet they'd pulled over him.

Susan was given a quick explanation, as best Daphne could manage, starting from when they were attacked in the Charms corridor after leaving Susan in the Hospital Wing. She was equal parts awed and terrified by the description of Harry's battle against the Basilisk. The same crushing guilt overcame her when she was told of Luna's roll in the entire affair.

"We said we'd be her friends," she muttered after Daphne wound down. "How could we have all messed up so badly?"

"In your defense, you four do have some slightly larger problems and distractions than others," Amelia tried to reassure her, but Susan just shook her head.

"We had time for our other friends. Hannah, Tracey, even Blaise. We should have included her."

"We will," Daphne told her firmly. "If she'll still have us, we'll be the best friends she could ever want."

Susan gave her a warm smile and nodded for a moment before turning her attention back to Madam Pomfrey and her aunt.

"All right, that explains the scars, what about his eyes? They only glow like that when he's _really_ angry, and he didn't even feel annoyed just now."

"Search me," Amelia said, spreading her hands in a helpless gesture. "First I've seen it, his eyes have been closed for the last week. Poppy?"

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips, deciding what her Oaths would allow her to say. Amelia was his guardian and had already heard some of it. The girls were his bonded, technically a part of them _was_ him. She eventually decided to just start. If she ran afoul of her Oaths she would receive warning in time for her to stop.

"There is a lot that has, or will, change for Harry. Possibly. Unfortunately, right now we have no idea _how_ things will be different for him moving forward. First," she said, raising a single finger to emphasize her point. "He was bitten by a Basilisk." She stood and bent over the bed, turning his arm to show the two new scars on the front and back of his upper arm where the fang had impaled him. "And that's not even taking into account that slash across his chest. Basilisk venom is quite possibly the single deadliest substance on earth. Highly poisonous and also caustic, like acid."

"How did he survive?" Susan asked. "Was it like last year?"

Poppy and Amelia both shook their heads.

"No," the Mediwitch replied. "Nothing like that happened, thank goodness. Which brings me to my second point," she added as she lifted a second finger. "Susan, do you remember the Phoenix that Daphne mentioned in her story?"

Susan nodded.

"Well, Phoenix tears have astounding curative powers. Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore's Phoenix, cried into Harry's wounds, thus saving his life. However, right now, Harry has nearly equal parts Basilisk venom and Phoenix tears circulating through his blood stream. At the moment I have absolutely no idea what this will mean for him in the long run other than, at the moment, it does not appear to be hurting him in the slightest. I imagine any healer he sees in the future will have to be careful near his blood because, unless the venom works its way out of his system, his blood could prove to be dangerous."

Susan, Daphne, and Amelia gaped at that, their eyes straying to the sleeping form in the bed between them.

"Holy crap," Susan muttered and Poppy let out a short chuckle.

"Indeed," she said.

Susan shook her head, trying to physically shake away her worries in favor of focusing on the present. "What about his eyes?" she asked. "None of this seems to explain that. And… is he running a fever? His skin is… hot… like he's sick or something."

"That, actually, may feed into my third point," Poppy admitted as she raised a third finger to join the first two.

"May?" Daphne asked.

"I admit, it is somewhat guesswork right now. Turn over his right arm and look at his hand and wrist."

The girls complied, Susan adjusting the sheet covering him while Daphne moved his arm. Once his arm had been placed on top of the sheet, they carefully examined the extremity.

His fingers, palm, wrist, and even part way up the inside of his forearm, were littered with several dozen new scars. Tiny pinpricks as well as numerous half inch long slashes across his skin. Right at the crease, where hand met wrist, was a two inch long dark scar that ran perpendicular across his arm.

"What happened?" Susan asked as she studied the corresponding scars etched into her own skin.

Poppy waved her wand over his arm as she carefully spoke an incantation and a moment later a glowing image appeared floating above his arm. It was a three dimensional replica of Harry's arm that showed, in detail, the muscles, bones, and veins that lay, hidden, beneath his skin, including…

"Is that a _feather_?" Daphne blurted out.

Floating within the image of his arm was a clearly defined feather, roughly eight inches in length, that appeared to be embedded beneath his skin.

"Precisely. Would either of you girls be able to tell me, what was the composition of Harry's wand?"

Daphne and Susan blinked at the odd seeming non sequitur.

"It was made of Holly with a Phoenix feath-" Daphne stopped talking abruptly, her eyes darting from the Mediwitch, back to the image floating before them.

"Holly and Phoenix feather," Poppy said. "To be more specific, a tail feather that was donated by Fawkes, the same Phoenix that used his tears to heal Harry's wounds."

"I imagine it happened when his wand blew up," Amelia muttered, "but why is it still in his arm? Isn't that something you'd want to remove?"

"That is our best guess as to the how," Poppy confirmed. "The reasons we did not attempt to remove it is because of this. See here, here, and here?" she asked as she leaned forward and indicated three points on the hovering image.

Amelia and the girls leaned closer, carefully studying the points Poppy indicated. As she examined the image, what she knew about the structure of a feather floated through Amelia's mind. A feather was comprised of a shaft, and along either side of the shaft were two vanes. The individual strands that made up each vane were known as barbs, and the end of the feather, the root that was bare of the vanes was called the quill or calamus.

The quill end of this feather was pointed toward his elbow while the soft tip of the long feather was closer to his wrist.

"Are the tip and the quill… are they digging into his veins?" Amelia asked with a glance toward the Mediwitch.

"Close, but not quite. They aren't digging into so much as they appear to be _fused_ with. I don't know if it is because the feather itself is a highly magical item or if it is because of the tears healing properties, but that feather has actually become a part of Harry's circulatory system. His blood is flowing _through_ the feather. And not just the shaft, either. The barbs that make up the two vanes have fused with many of the smaller veins in his arm and even the capillaries.

"Attempting to remove it could be incredibly dangerous. On top of that, the composition of the feather itself has changed. A deeper scan shows that it is as much a part of him, now, as his bones, muscles, and skin are a part of him."

"So the feather explains his eyes?" Susan asked after she, Daphne, and Amelia had carefully absorbed that information.

"That is my guess. I believe it also explains his elevated temperature. The average temperature of a human being is ninety-eight point six degrees, while the average temperature for a Phoenix is one-hundred and one degrees. As of three days ago, Harry is at that temperature and has stayed there without change. As far as I can tell that may simply be his new normal. And that is also why I've kept him without a top. I'm treating it as if he has a fever until I know otherwise and I do not wish to risk him overheating by covering him up, too much."

"So…" Amelia said slowly as everything they'd just been told settled in her mind. "To sum up, Harry has a Phoenix feather fused into his circulatory system through which a mixture of his blood, Basilisk venom, and Phoenix tears are flowing. His eyes are glowing, his body temperature would be considered a moderate fever for anyone else and you have no idea what effect any of these things will have on him, not even if any effects will be beneficial, malignant, or benign?"

Poppy considered that for a long minute before finally nodding as she let out a weary sigh. "Truthfully, no, we have no earthly idea. I don't think I've ever heard of a case like this. Harry seems to have a knack for doing things that have never been done before and I can't say with any assurance what will happen, if anything. All I can really do is monitor him and hope for the best. All my scans say that he's healing well, but who knows what could develop in the future as a result of this."

The four of them fell silent for a long time after that as the floating image of Harry's arm faded away, leaving them with only a handful of candles to light the room. It was ten minutes before Poppy remembered herself and set about badgering both girls back to their own beds despite their protests. She examined both, her wand dancing across them as she cast her diagnostic spells and within minutes had dosed them each with a small amount of a Dreamless Sleep potion, ensuring that they were asleep before Amelia took her leave, promising to return in the morning.

After she left, Poppy took one last look around her Hospital Wing at her patients before she returned to her office, moving through into the small private quarters that were set aside for her. She checked her wards to make sure that she would receive warning if any of her patients woke, and recast the ones that had apparently failed, allowing Harry to get out of bed without her realizing it before she collapsed into her own bed and let sleep take her.

#####

Glowing emerald green eyes opened slowly and Harry tensed for a moment as he stared up at a familiar ceiling. After a moment the sight registered consciously and he relaxed, imperceptibly. First, he delved into his mind, focusing on the bond with the girls to find each of them. Daphne and Susan were awake, judging by the feeling and the quite muttering he could hear from somewhere nearby. Hermione was still there as well, as was the pain associated with her still petrified state and he let out a relieved breath as he knew all three of them were safe.

The muttering stopped and he guessed that they'd noticed that he was awake so he turned his head to his left to find them sitting in a couple of chairs beside his bed. Judging from the light streaming in through the tall windows at the far end of the Hospital Wing, he figured it was mid to late morning.

He studied them carefully as they watched him in return, his eyes roving over both girls, looking for any signs of injury.

It wasn't until he opened his mouth to speak and only managed a croaking groan that he realized two things. One, his mouth and throat were so dry that swallowing suddenly became difficult, and two, he had the most disgusting aftertaste in his mouth that he thought he had ever had the great displeasure of experiencing.

"Gah," he groaned, his face twisting in distaste and both girls laughed lightly, relief flooding across the bond toward him.

"Here, Harry," Daphne murmured as she slid forward and sat on the edge of the bed next to him, reaching over to bring a tumbler of water to his lips. He drank, gratefully, and prayed the water would help wipe the horrendous taste from his mouth but he didn't hold out much hope.

"Holy crap," he muttered after she set the cup back on the end table. "That has got to be the worst thing I have ever tasted. What the hell was that?"

"A weeks worth of potions that the healers poured down your gullet while you were out," Susan quipped, an amused smirk tugging at her lips. "I'd say it's sufficient punishment for scaring us and getting yourself hurt, again, but since you were saving Daphne, I think I'll have to forgive you."

"You're so kind," he muttered, only slightly sarcastically as he caught one of Daphne's hands in his left, holding it gently for a moment as his eyes searched her face, for what he couldn't really say. "You're okay?"

She huffed out an exasperated sigh. "Merlin's beard, Harry," she muttered as she squeezed his hand. "You're the one that faced Voldemort, again, and fought one of the deadliest beasts in the world, killing it with a damn _sword_ and you're asking me if _I'm_ okay?"

He thought about that for a second before he nodded, firmly.

"Yep. I'm not worried about me. I'm here, obviously alive, and I feel pretty good, honestly. I'm worried about you."

Daphne fidgeted on the edge of the bed, her face a study of indecision for a moment before she suddenly leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead, causing both of them to flush brightly when she pulled away.

"You are an entirely too noble and self-sacrificing idiot, Harry Potter," she whispered before she sat up and moved back to her chair, ignoring the amused smirk on Susan's face.

"You really need to stop doing this kind of thing, Harry."

He turned his head to his right to find Amelia sitting in a chair on that side of his bed, her own lips twisted into an exasperated seeming smile. "I swear, I'm going to end up with gray hairs because of you, kid, but I can't honestly, _really_ be mad at you, since you were saving Daphne's life… again." She sighed and leaned forward, pulling him into a fierce hug that he carefully returned as best he could.

It was as she was releasing him and leaning back in her seat that he realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt and his left arm had been above the light sheet that was pulled up over his stomach.

He flinched and tried to stuff his arm under the sheet when Susan suddenly reached out and caught his hand, stopping him despite his attempt to tug his hand from her grip.

"No, Harry," she admonished him, gently, but without any room for argument. "Stop."

He froze, eyes directed up at the ceiling so he wouldn't have to look at them, at the pity or disgust he knew would be there. Susan moved, sitting on the edge of the bed where Daphne had been moments before and laid his arm across her lap, his palm up and he closed his eyes.

A shiver ran through him when she traced the scar running up his arm with the tip of a single finger.

"I thought you understood that you don't have to hide from us, Harry," Susan whispered. "You don't have to tell us all about it right now. I know you still can't do that yet, and I know it's not because you don't trust us, but because you just can't bring yourself to discuss it, and that's fine. But you belong to us, Harry. Hermione had to hammer that into Daphne's head earlier this year. You belong to the three of us, and we belong to you. Your problems are our problems. Your worries and pains are our worries and pains. We're not going to push you about it, but you need to know that we know and we don't think any differently about you. We don't feel any differently about you. Everyone is allowed to be weak sometimes and with the little we do know about your life… honestly I'm amazed you only felt that weak one time."

At some point while she talked, he opened his eyes and was watching her face carefully as she spoke to him. Not once did he see the disgust or pity that he'd expected and he didn't feel it through their bond, either. He felt only sincere concern and sympathy and a deep caring that almost scared him, to be honest, with how intense the sensation was.

Not sure he could trust himself to speak he gave her a timid smile and nodded, trying to express that he would at least try. He let her hold his arm for a few moments longer before gently extracting the extremity from her grip and he pushed himself back, sitting up slowly in the bed until he was leaning back against the railing at the head of the bed.

"Oh right," he muttered, looking down at the new scars on his chest and right arm. "I forgot about that."

Motion out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he looked to see Amelia holding out a stripped long sleeved pajama top to match the pants he was wearing.

"Madam Pomfrey said you could put this on if you wanted when you woke up, but don't button it. She said she'd explain it to you in person."

"I was honestly wondering about that," he admitted as he took the top and slipped it on. He desperately wanted to button the top, still not used to being so exposed, even though the girls and Amelia had all seen the majority of his scars, he was still so used to keeping covered that it was an ingrained habit at that point. "She's always been so good about keeping me covered when I'm in here, except that time with the troll, she had these bandages soaked in potions on my chest for the broken ribs so couldn't put a top on me that time."

"Hence the privacy screens," Amelia pointed out, indicating the screens that surrounded them. "She did her best but felt that covering you up might be detrimental, long term." She patted his arm and stood, her chair scraping loudly on the floor as it slid back. "I'll go get her and she can fill you in while I go make a few calls." She hesitated and eyed him for a moment. "You know there's a lot of people that are going to want to talk to you, right?" she asked and he grimaced but gave a resigned nod. "I'll be bringing Kingsley and Tonks over and I understand that the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall wish to speak to you as well."

"Well, I'm just a popular guy," he muttered sourly and Daphne patted his hand.

"That kind of thing happens when you act like a hero from a story, Harry."

The girls burst out laughing at the horrified look he gave them at that and couldn't help teasing him, just a little, as Amelia shook her head and headed for Poppy's office, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Wait…" she heard from behind her as she walked away. "Dumbledore's back?"

#####

Harry blinked and stared, open mouthed at Mediwtich.

Amelia, Susan, and Daphne studied him carefully, looking for any signs of how he might be reacting to the news, both girls looking with far more than just their eyes.

Harry blinked again, his face a blank, emotionless mask that gave no sign as to his thoughts.

He blinked a third time and slowly, almost mechanically, pulled on the pajama top that Madam Pomfrey had made him take off when she had returned with Amelia before she began examining him, all the while explaining the injuries he had received, his elevated temperature, and what they currently knew about his condition.

Finally, all he could think to say was, "but… how am I going to take my exams without my wand?"

The women around him breathed our a series of relieved sighs.

"Don't worry about your wand," Amelia told him. "I'll be taking you to Ollivander's, either this afternoon or tomorrow morning to get a replacement."

Harry blinked again, looking blankly at her for a moment before nodding, slowly. "Oh," he said. "That's good then."

Madam Pomfrey leaned forward. "Harry," she said, gently, causing him to focus on her. In the light of day, the glowing of his irises was barely noticeable. "Harry," she said again. "I really need you to tell me, honestly, how do you feel right now, physically?"

He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut when she kept talking.

"And if the words 'I'm fine,' come out of your mouth, young man, I swear I will keep you in here for another week, just for the irritation."

Harry shot a weak glare at Susan and Daphne, who were both snickering at his wounded expression. Even Amelia had an amused smile on her lips as Poppy berated him.

"But I really do feel fine," he insisted and Poppy frowned.

"Oh, really?" she asked as she reached out and poked the scar on his chest. The girls both winced as he let out a pained hiss and Poppy gave the two of them an apologetic look. "My apologies, ladies," she told them. "I know you share in his pain…"

"That's perfectly fine, Madam Pomfrey," Daphne said, waving aside her concern. "He needs to learn."

"The Basilisk scars are tender," he admitted, finally. "But otherwise I really do feel pretty good. No other aches or pains. I'm not tired or anything…" he trailed off and flushed as his stomach chose that moment to growl, loudly, reminding him that it had been quite some time since his last meal.

"Uh… I am kind of hungry," he added sheepishly.

"Hungry is good," Poppy said, giving him a warm smile as she gently patted his hand. "Hungry is very good. Try not to worry overly much about everything else right at the moment. Honestly, none of my tests indicate that you are in any danger, and despite your elevated temperature if you don't _feel_ unwell, there's truly nothing I can do. I would personally prefer you to dress as lightly as possible, hence why I didn't put you in one of the pajama tops, I didn't want to risk you overheating, but I'll allow it as long as you promise to pay careful attention and not just ignore any signs that you might be sick."

He nodded rapidly, pulling the pajama top closed as if he was afraid she'd take it away from him, but he didn't button it.

Poppy stood and glanced at her watch. "I'll have an elf bring trays for all of you and there's also a small gathering of individuals growing outside, waiting to speak to you. If you can promise to eat while you talk, I'll let them in now?"

He groaned at that, but nodded and she smiled at him again in equal parts amusement and sympathy. "Eat everything, and if you are feeling well tomorrow I will go ahead and release you after breakfast."

"Who all is here?" he asked Amelia after Poppy walked away.

"Kingsley and Tonks, as I mentioned, as well as the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall, Miss Lovegood and her father and also our illustrious Minister."

Harry and the girls pulled a face at that, with Harry muttering darkly under his breath, and she arched a quizzical brow in their direction.

"We… we _might_ have seen the Minister arrest Hagrid the night Daphne and I wrote to tell you about how badly Susan was doing."

"Which led to visiting an Acromantula nest in the forest," Susan muttered, not quietly enough to keep Amelia from hearing her

"A _what_?" she practically shrieked and all three of them squirmed nervously in their respective spots under her withering glare.

A series of quiet pops echoed through the room as four trays laden down with a sumptuous lunch appeared on the empty bed next to his and Amelia growled at them even as Harry's stomach rumbled again In response to the mouth watering smells wafting from the trays.

"We _will_ be discussing this later," she warned them and handed over the trays. The doors to the Hospital Wing swung open and the sound of many footsteps coming across the floor reached their ears. Amelia and the girls looked up, but Harry just listened as he was too busy trying to shove as much of his lunch into his mouth as he could before the inevitable discussion began and he would be forced to slow down in order to answer questions.

The seven individuals mentioned came up to the bed and for a minute there was a bit of stumbling as they set about arranging an appropriate number of chairs so everyone could sit near or around the bed. Harry gave a curious look when he saw the Headmaster place a pensieve on a nearby table, as well as the destroyed diary and the sword he'd used to attack the Basilisk but made no comment.

Once everyone was seated, with the exception of their Head of House, who chose to remain standing behind and to the headmasters left, Amelia stood and made introductions.

"Harry," she said. "You're familiar with most everyone here already, but for those you don't know, allow me to introduce Xenophilius Lovegood, Luna's father and owner/editor of The Quibbler and Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge. Mister Lovegood, Minister, Lord Harry James Potter."

The two murmured a greeting, the Minister fiddling with his lime green bowler hat while Luna's father simply watched Harry carefully, his too large silvery-blue eyes startlingly like his daughters.

"As I am personally connected to this case, I will not be serving in my capacity as Director of the DMLE," Amelia continued after the greetings were made. "I have already handed over control of this case to Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt who will be reporting directly to Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour.

"Thank you, madam Bones," Fudge said, leaning forward in his seat as he attempted to take control of the conversation. "You and the girls may leave."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Minister," she said, hiding her disdain well behind professional politeness as she retook her seat by Harry's bed.

"W-what?" he blurted out. "I am the Minister of-"

"And Lord Potter is my ward," she said, cutting him off. "He is an emancipated Lord and Head of his House, but he is still a minor and I am his legal guardian."

"And the girls?" Fudge blustered, frowning at the serenely calm witch.

"Miss Greengrass was present during the incident in question and as such is part of this investigation. My niece, while not present on the particular day in question, _was_ involved with much of the events the children investigated leading up to said event."

Fudge frowned again at that and blustered for a few moments longer but, eventually, was forced to concede.

"Lord Potter," Dumbledore started, leaning back in his conjured armchair. "You have already told some of us much of what led up to the even just over a week ago. Would you and the young ladies please go over it again for those of us that do not know?"

Harry glanced at Daphne and Susan, who both shrugged, so they launched into the story, taking nearly an hour to explain everything that happened leading up to the morning he and Daphne were attacked.

They talked about Dobby and his warnings of danger before the year had even started, the strange voice that Harry was hearing and when, the diary and what they'd learned and suspected about the attacks from fifty years ago.

Kingsley and Dumbledore both asked probing questions as they spoke while Tonks took Hermione worthy notes on their tale. Everyone else simply listened, silently.

"We were just on our way to the Great Hall to have lunch when we were knocked out from behind. When I woke up, Daphne was missing and there was a note in my pocket telling me where I could find her and that I needed to come alone or everyone close to me would be killed." Harry finally said, finishing the story. He reached for his water glass and took a sip to soothe his parched throat while they all absorbed the story.

"Very good," Dumbledore said, then.

Kingsley sat forward in his seat, his elbows resting on his knees. "Lord Potter, are you familiar with that item?" he asked, pointing to the pensieve that was still sitting on the nearby table.

Harry nodded. "It's a pensieve, isn't it? It lets people view memories?"

"Precisely. Now, we asked Professor Dumbledore to bring his pensieve so we could possibly just review your memory of what happened. This way, we don't have to make you discuss the whole event over again, and we can avoid the possibility of you, maybe, forgetting to mention some small detail that might seem insignificant to you but could possibly be of great importance. With your permission, we would like to view both your and Miss Greengrass' memory from the time of the attack, through to when we arrived in the Chamber to assist you."

Harry considered that, easily understanding the logic behind it, but still looked to Daphne to see what she thought. There was a steely resolve in her eyes and she gave him a firm nod before he turned back to the dark skinned Senior Auror.

"That's fine with us," he said.

The next five minutes were spent explaining how, and then extracting the memories, which were dropped into the large, rune covered stone bowl.

As the seven adults gathered around the bowl, Kingsley looked at them and formally asked, "do we have you permission to view these memories?"

"You do," Harry and Daphne chorused, and a moment later, all seven were sucked into the memory, leaving the four students alone.

They sat in silence for several minutes before Harry sighed and set aside his lunch tray, long since emptied, and leaned forward, carefully studying Luna.

The girl was sitting quietly in her seat, staring at her hands where they rested in her lap. In fact, she hadn't once looked at them, or said even a single word since entering with her father.

"Luna?" he asked as gently as he could.

At the sound of his voice she flinched and hunched her shoulders, as if she was expecting someone to hit her.

Harry frowned but smoothed away the expression as quickly as he could. "Luna, I owe you a truly enormous apology," he said, and at that her head snapped up, red, puffy eyes staring at him in shock.

" _We_ owe you an apology," Daphne corrected him.

"You don't have anything to apologize for," she whispered, her eyes dropping to the visible portion of the scar on Harry's chest that was exposed by his still unbuttoned top. "It's all my fault. You got hurt, and Hermione and Neville were petrified…"

"No," Daphne insisted. "You were tricked. Tom Riddle was a young Lord Voldemort. He tricked you and used you. You are as much a victim here as anyone else."

"And that is largely our fault," Harry continued. "We said that we wanted to be your friends at the start of the year and then we got so wrapped up in things that we weren't very good friends to you. I saw that things seemed off with you, but I didn't question it when I should have. We didn't include you like we should have. Maybe if we had, you wouldn't have felt like you needed to write to Riddle. Maybe we could have helped you and none of this would have happened."

Harry shook his head, feeling more disgusted with himself that he had in a long time.

"If you still want, we would still love to be your friends, Luna. If I still had my wand I'd swear a magical oath to be the best friend you've ever had."

"You can't!" she blurted out. "Oaths are not to be made lightly."

"I wouldn't be making it lightly," he insisted. "We failed you. I still want to be your friend and if you'll let me I promise I won't fail again. I'll be a much better friend to you, like you deserve."

"That goes for us too," Daphne said.

"And I'm sure Neville and Hermione would agree with us," Susan added, firmly.

Luna stared at them, her too-large eyes wider than ever, for several long minutes before she finally seemed to relax, leaning back in her chair.

"I would like that, very much, Harry Potter," she finally said in a quiet, almost shy tone of voice.

Harry's smile was extremely broad and showed plenty of teeth as a nearly overwhelming sensation of relief came over him.

"Thank you, so much, Luna, for giving us another chance," he told her with Daphne and Susan echoing him just as fervently. He let that feeling envelope them, letting it bleed back and forth across the bond while Luna alternated her gaze, looking absently at the air around each of their heads.

"Now, Luna," Harry started after a long silence. Unbeknownst to him, his eyes started glowing even more brightly, to the point that Luna could clearly see it even with the bright sunshine streaming in through the windows. "One thing you're going to learn about me is that I absolutely hate bullies. I particularly detest bullies that pick on my friends. So, why don't you tell me about these people that have been picking on you in your House?"

#####

"If you don't try to talk this kind into joining the Aurors when he's older, I will," Kingsley muttered in Amelia's ear as they watched the memory of Harry facing off against the shade of Tom Riddle.

She could only nod in silent agreement as the next minutes played out. When the Basilisk appeared she distinctly hear Fudge whimper in terror and couldn't help but agree with the sentiment. She'd already seen the Basilisk's corpse and knew that Harry had defeated it and, despite some unusual results of his injuries, appeared fine.

But seeing it alive and hell bent on killing her young ward? That was an entirely different story. Harry was no longer the tiny, underfed kid that she'd first met, but next to that enormous beast, he looked so _small_ and insignificant in comparison. Her hands were clenched so tightly into fists at her side that her nails dug painfully into her palms.

She wanted to cheer when the truly massive Reductor sent the beast flying through the air. She wanted to scream when he stabbed it and killed it, but she held her tongue both times. Nothing, however, was going to stop Kingsley from bursting into laughter, though, when he walked defiantly up to Riddle, fang pierced through his arm, his chest slashed open and bleeding, spat aside a mouthful of blood and said-

"'So much for the Beast of Slytherin,'!" Kingsley roared. "Merlin's sweaty sack, the stones on this kid!"

When Harry stabbed the diary, she watched and listened carefully as the shade of Tom Riddle fracture, cracks spreading across his form, through which a bright white light poured, before he exploded, shattering into a million shards of light that slowly faded away.

"That noise," she muttered.

"I know," Kingsley replied, all levity gone. "Same sound we hear last year with the Stone incident.

The memory faded as Harry passed out, only to be replaced by Daphne's memory of events. Amelia couldn't hear the scratching of the quill, but she could see it whipping back and forth across the parchment that Tonks had charmed to float beside her as Daphne's conversation with the shade played out.

Gasps were heard around the room as Riddle's true identity was revealed and the fiery letters in the air rearranged themselves to show the phrase 'I AM LORD VOLDEMORT'. By that time Fudge was simply shaking his head over and over, as if attempting to deny what his eyes and ears were telling him.

When the battle against the Basilisk started again Dumbledore turned to the rest of them. "Have we seen enough?

There were nods of agreement all around, though Amelia promised herself that she would ask Daphne for a copy of the memory later so she could view it to the end, as, with a wave of Dumbledore's wand, the group found themselves falling upwards, out of the pensieve and back into the Hospital Wing.

"YOU SHALL NOT HARM HARRY POTTER!"

Amelia jumped at the loud, squeaky sounding voice, and again as a loud bang ripped through the air. She ducked and spun even as Tonks and Kingsley did the same, wands coming out of their sleeves and into their hands as they pointed them toward the sound.

Daphne and Susan were clutching Luna between them on one side of Harry's bed, a bed that he was no longer in. Instead he stood in the middle of the room, without his pajama top and with his scarred back toward them. In between him and the doors was a tiny house elf wearing a filthy pillow case and clutching a piece of stripped cloth in one long fingered hand even as his other hand was pointed toward the doors leading out into the rest of the school.

Closest to the doors a figure with long platinum blond hair, clutching a cane in one hand and a wand in the other was struggling to his feet where he'd apparently been thrown and Madam Pomfrey came running in from her office, her hat askew as she took in the scene with one quick look around.

"What in Merlin's name is going on in here!" she roared.

"That is precisely what I would like to know," Amelia growled out, striding forward until she was standing at Harry's side, her wand still pointing toward Malfoy as he finally got his feet under him and rose, disheveled, to his full height.

"Simply a… misunderstanding," he growled out in a menacing tone, his face flushed as he shoved his wand back into the top of the cane he held in his left hand.

"Misunderstanding my arse," Harry snapped. "He tried to curse me, and Dobby sent him flying."

"I did not attempt to curse you, child," Malfoy sneered. "I may have drawn my wand in a bit of anger but I did not try to curse anyone before the… elf, attacked me."

Dobby was growling quietly, ears sticking straight up like a terrier, his tennis ball sized eyes never leaving the blond that would dare threaten the Great Harry Potter.

"Lucius, why _are_ you here?" Fudge spoke up from the group still standing near the pensieve.

"I had heard that Dumbledore returned to the castle, even after the board voted him out, and was simply attempting to verify that information."

"He came in, with Dobby, demanding answers, and we told him that the Headmaster was in there," Daphne said, pointing without looking toward the pensieve, "along with the Minister, Madam Bones, a Senior Auror, an Auror Cadet, and the editor of The Quibbler."

"I was contacted, nearly a week ago," Dumbledore cut in, "and informed that a student had been taken into the Chamber. The board were quite insistent that I return immediately, and even implied that you, Lucius, might have… intimidated a few of them in order to have them vote me out in the first place."

"Now, see here, Dumbledore. Mister Malfoy is an upstanding member of our society. You simply cannot toss out accusations like that without any kind of proof," the Minister suddenly blustered. "I've had enough of this farce you people have going on here. Madam Bones, I'll be seeing Lucius out. Please see to it that I receive a full report of your findings here but I feel my presence is not required."

With that he strode forward and the two men made their way out of the Hospital Wing, Fudge already muttering quickly to Lucius under his breath as they went.

"Great, Fudge is going to tell Lucy everything," Harry muttered as his shoulders slumped. He turned his attention back to Dobby who had just turned to him, tears brimming in his gigantic eyes. "Thank you, very much, Dobby," he said. "I didn't have a wand to fight him off, you definitely saved us."

Dobby burst into tears, hurriedly wiping them away with the piece of cloth he held, which Amelia finally realized was Harry's missing pajama top. "Harry Potter is such a great and kind wizard to be freeing Dobby and then thanking him!" he wailed. He jerked forward, suddenly throwing his arms around Harry's legs in a hug before he stepped back and snapped his fingers, vanishing with a loud crack. After he was gone Harry hurried over to where Lucius had been thrown by the excitable little elf and picked up the destroyed diary that had somehow found itself on the floor near the Hospital Wing doors and brought it back, setting it on the table by the sword and the pensieve.

It took a few minutes to get everyone seated again, during which time Poppy brought out another top for Harry to put on as, with the tense situation past, he became rather self conscious with how much skin he was displaying.

"Okay, what the hell happened there?" Amelia finally asked after they were all sitting once again.

Harry grinned. "It happened basically like we said. Mister Malfoy came in blustering and demanding answers and when we told him where the Headmaster was, and who was with him, he decided to leave. It was obvious that Dobby belonged to the Malfoy's and, while he might not have gone about it in the best way, he really did do a lot to try to help this past year and I didn't want to see him still having to work for that wretched family. So, I grabbed he diary, wrapped my top around it and ran over, yelling out for Malfoy. When he turned I stuffed it in his arms and told him I was returning the diary to him. He unwrapped it and tossed the top aside and Dobby caught it-"

"You tricked Malfoy into freeing the elf," Kingsley barked out, laughing quietly while most of the adults grinned at him.

"What was that about returning the diary to him?"

"I figured it out when he walked in. I'd been wondering where it came from and how Luna got it so while you guys were in there we were talking. I asked her about it and she said she'd found it mixed in with her school books after she got back from Diagon Alley last summer." Harry turned more fully toward Amelia.

"Remember when we were at Flourish and Blotts?" he asked. "Luna was standing with Ginny Weasley and Malfoy Senior pulled her transfiguration book out of her cauldron. I think he slipped the diary in the books then when he put it back. Then he and Mister Weasley got into that fist fight and they knocked over the cauldron, Ginny, _and_ Luna. I'd bet my broom that, when they picked up their books, Luna accidentally picked up the diary as well."

They thought about that for a minute. "That actually makes a disturbing kind of sense. It's long been suspected that Lucius deals in dark artifacts and such but we've never been able to prove it. Arthur Weasley has been conducted raids all year and Lucius is a favorite target of his. There's quite a bit of bad blood between the Malfoys and the Weasleys. If little Ginny had been opening the Chamber and was found out, Arthur would be ruined, especially if you hadn't come along and stopped it all, like you did."

"Unfortunately, we have no way to prove that," Kingsley pointed out, disappointment clearly written on his face.

"True, but I'll be keeping a much closer eye on Mister Malfoy from now on."

Conversation stopped while Poppy checked Harry over again to ensure that the excitement hadn't exacerbated anything with his condition. She only left after she found him to be exactly the same as her previous scans and admonished him to stay in bed and as calm as possible for the foreseeable future.

After she walked away again, leaving the rest of them to continue their conversation, Dumbledore started things off. "Those memories, were quite probably, some of the most amazing I have ever witnessed. You should be quite proud of your accomplishment, Lord Potter, in defeating the Basilisk. You have done this castle, and all those who live here a great service in protecting us all through your actions."

Harry frowned at that, looking down at his hands while Daphne and Susan took on confused expressions over what they felt.

"Harry?" Amelia asked, gently. "What is it?"

"That isn't why I did it," he muttered.

"Lord Potter?"

He looked up at Dumbledore. "I didn't do it to protect anyone but Daphne. I wasn't thinking about everyone else in the castle. I was thinking someone took Daphne. Someone hurt Hermione, and Neville. I wasn't thinking about saving everyone else, I was thinking about hurting whoever had hurt my friends. That's revenge, and didn't you say in my first year, Headmaster, that revenge was a dark path to walk?"

No one responded as the two most powerful wizards in the room stared at each other.

"You are very similar to Tom Riddle, aren't you, Harry?" Dumbledore suddenly asked causing most to blink in surprise and more than a few to glower in anger at the aged wizard.

"What?" Harry asked, confused by the strange question.

"Both of you raised without parents, both raised in unhealthy environments. Both quite brilliant in your own ways, if we go by your performance in class, and both of you quite powerful. The night you're talking about, I mentioned as such to Minerva. And I will honestly say that more than once the thought has occurred to me, comparing you to young Riddle. Aside from the similarities I have already mentioned, you both also gathered together close friends, powerful friends.

"You have the ear and confidence of the Director of the DMLE. You are friends with the Heirs of powerful families such as Longbottom, Greengrass, Zabini. If I'm not mistaken, I believe you've even recently entered into a business arrangement with the Lady Zabini, have you not?"

Harry nodded, almost despondently as the comparisons kept coming. "And the sorting hat said I could have done very well in Slytherin," he muttered.

"I could have, too, Harry," Daphne cut in, glaring at the Headmaster. "You're nothing like Riddle."

"But-"

"Miss Greengrass is quite correct," Dumbledore cut him off before he could get going. "I only point out the similarities between the two of you in order to further highlight your differences. Where Tom gathered close confidants, they were followers, not real friends. Where you were raised in a terrible environment, you do not torment, and hurt others for amusement, as Riddle did. Instead you seek to help and protect people from bullying and from danger for no reason other than it is the right thing to do.

"You might feel as if you succumbed to the darkness in your motivations, Harry, but I feel that I must disagree with you. Everyone has some darkness within them. Everyone has moments of anger, thoughts that would be… unkind, or even cruel. But you do not act on your thoughts. You choose to do what is right when you act, even if it is painful, or difficult." He smiled, his eyes twinkling madly. "In fact, I believe that is precisely why you were able to pull this sword from the hat," he said, picking up the sword from the table beside him and holding it carefully before him.

Harry blinked in surprise at that. "Huh?"

"This sword, belonged to one Godric Gryffindor," Dumbledore told them. "His name is etched into the blade here. This sword was created over a thousand years ago by the goblins and was gifted to Gryffindor for the actions that saw him earning the status as Friend to the Goblin Nation, something I understand you have also done. As such, I believe that this, rightfully, belongs to you."

He stood and held out the sword, hilt first toward Harry who simply stared at him in wide eyed shock and amazement.

"Wait… what?" he asked even as he reached for the handle and took the sword, examining it carefully.

"The House of Potter is directly descended from House Peverell. House Peverell was a branch of the Gryffindor line. You, Lord Potter, are a descendant of Godric Gryffindor. Hence why the sword came to you when you needed it. Only a true Gryffindor would be able to pull that sword from the hat."

"But… but the hat said… what?" Harry's voice was almost plaintive at the end, overwhelmed as he was by everything the old man was telling him.

"It honestly doesn't mean much, I assure you," Dumbledore told him as he took back the sword and set it aside. "You could claim rights to the House and use Gryffindor as part of your family name, if you chose. But other than the increased recognition you would receive, and increased scrutiny from our society, it does not include any other… perks... shall we say?"

Harry groaned and scrubbed his hand over his face.

"Yes, quite a shock, I can only imagine. I do believe that we have covered almost everything there is to cover save for, perhaps, a few small points. If you could, would you be willing to share what the hat said to you in the Chamber?"

Harry nodded and launched into retelling the conversation between him and the hat, grateful for anything to distract him at that moment. It didn't take long, and both Dumbledore and McGonagall were frowning by the end.

"That is… disappointing, to say the least," he admitted. "That the hat would feel thus… well, a promise is a promise. I would enjoy working together to help you with the hat's request. I do feel, however, that we must… clear the air, so to speak, before we can begin to consider that. We have much to discuss, you and I, don't we, Lord Potter? The anger you have shown for me this year I believe is one thing, and if I remember correctly you asked me a question last year, one I promised that I would answer in the future. I still, personally, feel that such a question should wait, but I am willing to discuss it with you now, should you still want to know."

He looked old and tired, once again as he said that and Harry stared at him while Amelia and the girls exchanged a look between the three of them, each remembering the day in question. With a jerk of her head, Amelia signaled Kingsley and he nodded, silently rising to his feet and urging Tonks, Mister Lovegood, and Luna to join him as he left the Hospital Wing. None of them said anything, and no one left around the bed spoke, either, until the door had swung shut leaving Harry, Amelia, the girls, and the two professors alone.

"Why me?" Harry whispered, finally. "Why did Voldemort attack me, why does he keep coming after me?

"Before that, I would like to address your anger with me, if I may?"

Harry frowned, feeling as if he was being brushed off again and that anger surged to the forefront of his mind. "You left me to _this_ ," he snapped, holding open his top to show the scars that covered his torso. "With few exceptions these were because of those monsters that _you_ left me with, and _you_ let him," he added the last at Professor McGonagall where she still stood behind the Headmaster. "What would you expect when I found out that you left me there other than for me to be pissed at you?"

"Nothing," Dumbledore admitted, sadly. "I would expect nothing but anger, even hatred, and I would deserve it."

Harry started at that admission but his glare didn't lessen and he only waited for Dumbledore to continue.

"Lord Potter, I made… I made a terrible mistake. I am an old man, some would call me wise from my years of experience. But I am still, only a man, and I make mistakes. For someone in my position, however, I regret to say that my mistakes impact others far more than someone else's mistakes might. I left you with your aunt, because I believed your mothers great sacrifice is what protected you the night Voldemort attacked your family. I used that protection to erect wards around your relative's home, wards that would prevent anyone magical from attempting to harm you.

"My two mistakes were that, first, I expected your aunt to love and care for you as her own. I could not believe that anyone could treat, or allow someone to treat, their own family, their own flesh and blood as you were treated. I knew that your mother, if the positions were reversed, would have taken guardianship of your cousin and treated him as a brother to you. It was pointed out to me last year that not everyone is as kind and compassionate as Lily Potter was.

"My second mistake was, in my arrogance, believing myself to be right that you would be loved and treated as family, that I did not check up on you as I should have. I had much to do, and I kept telling myself that you were with family, you were fine." He sighed and took off his half moon glasses, pinching the bridge of his crooked nose between his thumb and forefinger for a moment before replacing them. "I cannot ask your forgiveness, Harry, and I won't. I know I have not earned that right, and I realize that I may never. Since I discovered how life was for you I have done my best to ensure you never went back there. While Madam Bones investigated the case in her capacity I took action myself, helping to push it through the muggle courts, ensuring that you would not have to testify against them, and pushing for the maximum possible punishment for those responsible.

"I am trying, to make whatever amends that I can, and I offer my sincerest, most heartfelt apologies for every year, every minute, that you suffered with those… those _people_. Already I have blocked several attempts by some families to see you removed from Madam Bones care."

Susan and Amelia both looked sharply at the old man, shocked to hear that as Susan blurted out, "What!?"

"Some have argued that, with the nature of Director Bones' position and inherent danger to her and her family from enemies she has gathered in her years in Law Enforcement, that your placement with her is in fact a danger to you. I have argued against it several times and will continue to do so with all my influence. You need not worry that anyone will take you from your chosen home, that I promise you. And I do not tell you this to make you feel beholden to me. Obviously, this and more, is the least that I can do to repay even a portion of what I owe you for your years with the Dursley family. I only mention so that you understand that, whatever your justified anger toward me, I _am_ on your side and I only have your best interests at heart. I swear that I will not interfere with you but hope, considering Riddle is still out there, that you might be able to work with me in the future."

"Why would I need to work with you?"

"Which brings me to the second point. Why you?" He stopped and peered over his glasses at Harry. "Are you quite certain you wish to know this now? I will answer, but I would prefer to wait until you are older."

"Tell me," Harry demanded, his face set and determined and Dumbledore sighed in defeat before nodding.

"Very well. It all started before you were born. A prophecy was given, one that I heard directly regarding a child and the Dark Lord. A Death Eater spy heard part of the prophecy and gave it to Riddle. That is what caused him to attack your family that night."

"Why did no one know of this?" Amelia demanded, practically growling in anger.

"I'm sure you can understand how important information control is during a war, Amelia," Dumbledore said. "The more people that know, the more dangerous it is. I will not tell you the exact wording of the prophecy, now, but I can say that it implied a child would be born at the end of July, one that would have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord and born to parents that thrice defied him. Of all those involved in the war, only two couples ever came face to face with Voldemort and escaped with their lives on three separate occasions. Those would be your parents, and the Longbottoms."

Harry and the girls jerked in surprise at that and glanced sharply at each other before looking toward the privacy screens that hid Neville's bed.

"Neville?" Harry asked.

"Yes. You and Lord Longbottom were born only a few hours apart at the end of July, he late in the evening on the thirtieth, and you in the early morning hours of the thirty-first. Riddle came after your parents, personally. I find it telling that he sought to remove the halfblood, like himself, as opposed to the pureblood Longbottom."

"How do we even know this prophecy is true? Or that it's talking about Harry, or Voldemort?" Susan demanded. "What's the wording?"

"I cannot say that," Dumbledore said, raising his hands before him as they all started to protest, loudly. "I cannot say as that information can _never_ get back to Voldemort. You do not know Occlumency and cannot protect that information."

"We're learning Occlumency," Harry stated but reluctantly admitted, "I've just gotten to the point where I can start building my shields, but not much further."

"Then continue to work on them," Dumbledore told them, honestly impressed that they even knew of Occlumency, much less that they were working on it. "In the future I will check your shields, if you like, and when you get to the point where you can hold me off I will tell you the exact wording. Believe me, though, that there are signs that point to it being a true prophecy, and one that specifically means Harry and Voldemort. But whether it is true or not, or even if it doesn't mean precisely what we think it means, Voldemort believes it to be true. That is why he attacked that night. That is why he will continue to attack in the future. He firmly believes Harry to be a threat to him and will stop at nothing to see that threat to him, and his power, eliminated."

Harry suddenly found himself almost bowled over and his arms filled with a thirteen-year-old girl as vibrant red hair obscured his vision. "You are going to listen to me, Harry Potter," Susan practically growled as she squeezed him, tightly. "I can already guess what's going to go through that brain of yours soon enough, and you're not going to push us away. You're not going to even think of distancing yourself from me, Daphne, and Hermione, not out of some noble thought of protecting us."

"But-"

"NO! We're in this together. We're tied to each other and we're not letting you get away, do you understand me?" she snapped. "We've been working ahead and we're going to keep working. We're going to train with you and help you and you're going to stay with us no matter what that maniac tries to pull."

"Harry, she's right. You know Hermione would say exactly the same thing, too," Daphne told him, her expression determined. "You mean too much to us, and you've left us behind too many times already. We're not letting you pull this lone hero thing anymore."

"But you're not going to spend your life like you're under a death sentence, either," Susan insisted, sitting up to look him in the eyes. "You're going to live, too. Just like your mother wanted you too. You're going to have fun, get in trouble, and live your life, with us. It's not going to be all work and training, we're going to make damn sure of that."

Harry hesitated for a minute and Susan frowned, growling angrily at him.

"Okay!" he blurted out, grinning despite himself at her behavior. "Okay, I promise. Together."

Susan's answering smile could have blinded him for how bright it was and she dove in to wrap her arms tightly around him again as, briefly, gentle wisps of gold and auburn light flared around them before fading away, unseen by either of them but easily noticed by everyone else in the room.

When Susan pulled away from him Amelia and Daphne were both smiling at them and she looked back and forth between the two, a confused look on her face.

"What?" she asked. "What's got the two of you grinning like a couple of loons?"

"We'll tell you about it later," Daphne said, reaching out to pull Susan off of Harry and back into her chair by the bed. "We'll need to get Madam Pomfrey to come join us."

Susan huffed at that but didn't press.

"Indeed, I believe that should be soon," Dumbledore said, laughing quietly. "The four of you are very special, and I am very much looking forward to what you achieve going forward. Miss Bones is quite correct, Lord Potter. You should prepare for the future, but do make sure you live your life to the fullest, as well."

He stood and vanished his armchair with a wave of his hand as McGonagall gathered up the pensieve and the diary. Dumbledore took the sword in hand.

"I do believe that this belongs to you, but I would keep it safe in a case in my office, if that is acceptable to you?" he asked and Harry simply nodded.

"It is nearing dinner time, so I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will be seeing to it that you are stuffed to the gills before you sleep. A lot has been discussed today, but I feel there is still more that needs to be discussed in the future. I look forward to proving to you, to all of you, that we can and should work together."

When the professors had left Harry groaned and flopped back in his bed so he was laying down, staring up at the ceiling.

"Why is nothing in my life ever simple?" he asked of no one and everyone.

"The curse of being a Potter," Amelia told him with a gentle smile. "I've never heard of a Potter that didn't either do something important or was involved in something important going back centuries. The Potters always seem to be on the front line of any wars, fighting against the dark, always working to better our world." She reached out and patted his hand. "I'll be honest. I'm pissed at you for going down there alone, but honestly, I'm proud of you, too. And I don't think I can honestly expect anything but that kind of reaction from you, Harry. It's in your blood."

Harry scowled. "There's Basilisk venom and Phoenix tears in my blood," he muttered.

"And you're not to worry about it right now. It may very well come to nothing and worrying won't change anything," she admonished him.

He blew out a sigh and closed his eyes. "I know," he muttered. "It's not easy though."

"Life doesn't get any easier, kid," Amelia told him. "But you've got a hell of a lot of support to get you all through it. Don't forget that." She stood and stepped around the bed to hug both of the girls before she leaned down and pulled Harry into a hug as well, one which he gratefully returned. "I've got to get back to the office, for now. I intend to speak to Fudge about what we learned and check in with Kingsley and Tonks. I want them to wrap this case up and… well, there's a lot I need to do. But I'll be back in the morning to take you to Ollivander's and see about a new wand, okay?"

Harry nodded. "I should probably check in with the goblins too, like the hat told me. I don't know why, but hopefully we'll figure it out."

"Good idea, we can do that. Get some rest, Harry, we're going to have a full day tomorrow."

Once she was gone Harry and the girls spent the next hour chatting quietly amongst themselves before Madam Pomfrey came to check on them. Dinner was eaten in silence and before curfew the girls were evicted from the Hospital Wing, declared fit by the mothering Mediwitch and sent on their way with one bit of good news that had them smiling, even though they were being sent away.

"I have it on extremely good authority, that we'll be able to revive those petrified tomorrow afternoon," Poppy told them, smiling at the broad grins that spread across their faces. "We'll have Miss Granger back with you before dinner. And I'll want to see all four of you to check your bond again once she's up and moving around, am I understood?" she added the last in a stern tone of voice that didn't quite match the smile she couldn't keep off of her own face.

"Absolutely," both girls agreed before they hurried away in order to get back to the tower before curfew.

Despite the uncertainty of Harry's condition, and worry over what they'd learned from the Headmaster, all three bond mates fell asleep that night with smiles on their faces, excited for the return of one so close to them.

#####

Light flashed several times and a door slowly opened, allowing two cloaked figures to slip into a room deep beneath the Ministry of Magic. They turned to the far wall, staring at the four names written there that had occupied so many man hours and been the source of so much curiosity.

Golden lines, once barely an inch thick that had shifted and changed over the last year as certain lines grew thicker than others, were now all, once again, uniform and were three inches across. Furthermore, the names themselves had changed from simple, black lettering, to gleaming golden letters to match the lines that connected them all.

"Get Director Croaker," one of the figures said without turning to their partner. "They're going to want to see this."


	29. Aftermath Part Two

**Authors Note: Rotten Writer here again with the end of Second Year. WHOOOO!**

 **Hasn't been nearly as long a time coming as it kinda feels like but still been a fun adventure thus far.**

 **So, yeah, this chapter is just the final wrap up started in the previous chapter and weighted in at about 16,500 words, give or take a few. If this had been added to the previous chapter as was the original plan we'd have been looking at a chapter in the 27,000 word count range. Yikes, that's a lot. So, in the end I'm glad I decided to break it up as I did. Next chapter will be the start of Part Three of Soul Scars and we're going to diverge even more away from canon in some respects while still keeping a few other aspects. For example, Dementors. Gotta haves me some Dementors in Year Three cause I'm looking forward to some fun times there.**

 **Other than that, things are gonna get weird, fast.**

 **I had a few reviews wonder why the girls didn't share the new scars with Harry and I'm sorry, I gotta point out, just because I didn't expressly mention the scars didn't mean they didn't HAVE the scars. Make sense? In the last chapter you only saw Daphne and Susan and both girls were as covered up as they always were in those portions of the chapter where they were physically present. So therefore I didn't expressly mention the scars across their chests and arms simply because they weren't uncovered at any time during the chapter. But they do HAVE them and we're going to see some** **reaction to that coming up. Some things might seem a little out of left field, but I promise it's all there building toward future events and such in the upcoming years.**

 **I've already begun working on year three and with any luck I'll have the next chapter up as per my original schedule outlined at the beginning of this whole thing.**

 **One last quick thing. I've got a strangely shaped chunk of text in there, trust me, you'll know it when you see it. Now there's some sections that just have X's instead of regular letters. (like so XXXX XXXXXX etc.) Now, in my writing program that I use, those sections were blacked out like they'd been gone over with a marker. The intent was to make it look as if sections of the text were missing, either damaged or obscured in some way. This didn't transfer over so I improvised. Apologies if it looks a little odd.**

 **Disclaimer: I still owns nothings. Please no with the suing. *hides***

 **Moving on! Chapter 28 of Soul Scars**

Soul Scars Part Two:

Darkness Within

by,

Rtnwriter

"Director?"

Croaker looked up from the smoothly polished surface of his desk to see Mink and Sable both standing in front of him. He couldn't see their expressions, but even through the charms masking Sable's voice, he could hear the questioning tone.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to drift off like that, you were saying?"

Sable and Mink glanced at each other but said nothing and turned their attention back to the Director as Sable continued with his report.

"Our contact inside Hogwarts; codename, Dirk, confirmed a rather fantastic story. The fabled Chamber of Secrets has now been confirmed to be real. The perpetrator was, apparently, a first year student that was being controlled through means of a cursed artifact, something that used to belong to the Dark Lord himself."

Croaker sat up straighter in his seat, his previous thoughts banished to a corner of his mind as he focused his entire attention on the report his subordinate was giving.

"White King and White Rook were attacked by this student in the Charms corridor and White Rook was taken into the Chamber. White King got the Weasley twins to inform the staff and the DMLE but the King went after the Rook, personally, and during the confrontation fought, and killed the beast supposedly left in the Chamber by Slytherin himself."

"What was this beast?"

"A Basilisk. An extremely _old_ and therefore extremely large Basilisk. Dirk claimed to infiltrate a pensieve memory of the battle and estimates the creature at nearly seventy feet in length."

"Sweet Circe," Croaker blurted out before he could stop himself. "How did White King handle that creature? There's no spell a second year student could possibly cast that would do any kind of significant damage to something like that."

"It appears that White King didn't use a spell, not for the kill, at least. He shot off a Reductor at one point that I think would top any scale we might have to measure it, and in the process destroyed his wand. Subject Whiskers' Phoenix intervened, bringing the sorting hat with it and White King and the hat had a bit of a discussion. The contents of that conversation are presently unknown."

"Understood," Croaker said, motioning for Sable to continue.

"Somehow, White King pulled a sword from within the hat, the name Godric Gryffindor is etched into the blade, according to Dirk."

"Gryffindor's sword has been missing for centuries," Croaker mused thoughtfully. "Either it's been within the hat all this time or that artifact has greater powers than we thought if it was able to pull the sword from wherever it was hidden."

"Quite, Director. White King used the sword to kill the Basilisk, getting significantly injured in the process. Fang impaled through his arm and a slash across his chest that is by no means small. White King was incapacitated for three days after the confrontation but is apparently in full health with a few unusual effects detailed in the report before you."

Croaker nodded, already flipping through the folder that had appeared on his desk as Sable continued their report.

"There was some conversation with individuals including the perpetrators father, the perpetrator herself, a Miss Luna Lovegood. There was a Senior Auror and an Auror Cadet, the Minister of Magic, Whiskers and Subject Feline. Subjects Red Queen, White Rook, and White Bishop were also present during this conversation."

"And Subject White Queen was still petrified during this incident, correct?" Croaker asked to which the cloaked Sable nodded silently. "All right, continue."

"The adults all watched memories submitted by White King and White Rook of the confrontation, during which time Malfoy Senior entered the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. White King tricked Malfoy into freeing his house elf who then tossed Malfoy across the Wing after he attempted to curse White King."

Croaker couldn't help but chuckle at that one and motioned for Sable to keep going.

"During the rest of the conversation everyone left save Red Queen, White King, Rook, and Bishop, as well as Whiskers and Feline. At this point, Whiskers finally informed White King of the prophecy we know exists in regards to White King and Black King."

"He finally let the boy know? I'm honestly surprised he did that. Whiskers doesn't like to part with information."

"Dirk feels that Whiskers' guilt over White King's abuse at the hands of his relatives may have motivated his sudden… verbosity… In any case, White King and most of those closest to him now know of the Prophecies existence, if not the exact wording. We feel it likely the Longbottom boy and White Queen will be informed as early as this evening, possibly by tomorrow morning."

"Longbottom…" Croaker cut in. "What's the word on the status between Longbottom and White King?"

"The two swore Oaths tying themselves and their Houses together just after the Christmas Break, that was in an earlier report from Dirk. The nature of the Oath… well it ties them much closer together than a typical House alliance Oath would. They're very close, and quite devoted to each other."

"Good. White King is going to need all the allies he can get. Future reports will have Longbottom designated as Subject White Knight."

"Understood, Director."

"Is that it for the report from Hogwarts?"

"Nearly. Red Queen intends to take White King to Diagon Alley today in order to replace his wand. Based on his medical report though… I'm not sure that'll be possible. Hence why I've asked Mink to join us."

"Mink?" Croaker asked, turning his attention to the other, until now, silent figure sitting across from his desk.

"With the Soul Bond between the subjects solidified to its present state, and with that feather embedded in White Kings arm, there's no telling what that will do to his magic. No one has ever overpowered a wand to the extent that White King did. I highly doubt that he'll find a wand that will be able to handle the power he could pump through it, and in a combat situation… well, I can't believe that he'll be able to limit his power enough to not do it again. That'll make any wand a potential danger to him."

"You're thinking a different focus will be needed?"

Mink shrugged.

"I honestly couldn't say, Director. But I intend to have one of my people as a fly on the wall when he gets there. I'm quite curious to see what Wands will decide."

"Very good. Keep me updated. With their bond, plus the request we received from Subject Feline… I think it might be getting close to a face to face with the subjects. Sable, you may go. Mink, I need you to stay behind."

"Good day, Director," said Sable as they turned and strode from the office. Moments later it was just Mink and Croaker left in the office and the two stared at each other, deep cowls completely covering both their faces.

"Director?" Mink asked after the silence had finally stretched into its fifth minute.

Croaker reached over and pulled open a small drawer on the right hand side of his desk from which he withdrew a single sheet of parchment.

Holding it up he pretended to read from the sheet. In truth he'd memorized what it said long ago and was using the act of 'reading' as an excuse to observe Mink where they stood across from him.

 _The Hydra will **XXXX**_

 _ **XXXX** strong and im **XXX**_ _tal_

 _The beast of one a **XX**_ _many must stand united_

 _ **XXXXXXX** and bro **XXX**_ _, the sword will fight_

 _ **XX** a_ _rred and determined, **XXXXXXXX**_ _will save_

 _Scarred and dam **XXXX**_ _, the shield will protect_

 _Scarred and loy **XX**_ _, the faithful will heal_

 _ **XXX** sword will **XX**_ _eak_

 _Knowledge wi **XXXXXXX**_

 _The shield **XXXXXXX**_ _atter_

 _The fai **XXXXXXXX**_ _ll suffer_

 _Death will come for **XXX**_

Croaker set the sheet down on the desk. Throughout the reading Mink hadn't moved so much as a centimeter. They gave nothing away, much as an Unspeakable was supposed to, but in that moment Croaker found it more irritating than he ever had.

"Director?"

"What did I just read, Mink?" he asked.

"The information that I brought to you on The Hydra that you asked me for."

"That is not all of it."

"I am aware, Director. When I found it, a single sheet of parchment in the Archives, the bottom portion of the page had been burned. What I gave you was all that I was able to transcribe from the original."

"Did I ask you to bring me a transcribed copy of the information?" he demanded, his own charms unable to keep out the anger in his masked voice as he stood and leaned over the desk toward Mink who flinched at the sudden motion.

"No, Director. However, Archive rules require no original documentation is ever to be removed."

"Unless at the direction of the Director," Croaker finished the unspoken portion of the sentence and slowly sank back into his seat. "Perhaps… perhaps I am partially at fault here. I asked for the materials, not a copy of the materials. Bring me the original, immediately, then I want you to go back another two centuries and continue looking for any reference. You are to speak of this to absolutely no one, am I understood?"

"Yes, Director. I understand completely."

"Dismissed."

Mink didn't flee from the office, but they moved just a bit faster than normal, close enough that Croaker could amuse himself with the thought that Mink was sent scurrying from his office in terror. No idea if it was true or not. But it amused him. And he felt that he could use all the amusement he could find to help whether the coming years.

#####

Harry stared into the old man's wide, pale eyes with a growing sense of trepidation. Mister Ollivander never seemed to blink as he studied Harry's brightly glowing emerald gaze with an intense curiosity that had him quickly fidgeting nervously.

"Holly and Phoenix feather," Ollivander said, suddenly, as he turned away from Harry and moved around behind the counter in his dusty, cramped little shop. "Eleven inches, nice and supple. How is your wand treating you these days, Lord Potter?"

Harry winced as those pale eyes turned back toward him, his fidgeting getting worse. "Umm… actually, my wand was… well it kind of… blew up."

When he woke that morning, Harry hadn't thought much of his missing wand. He got up, his mind occupied by the fact that Hermione and Neville would be back with them that night. He was thrilled, practically euphoric, at the thought that both his friend, and his bond mate would soon be put to rights.

When Amelia showed up, however, to escort him off the grounds, he suddenly found himself feeling apprehensive. Would the old wand maker be angry with him? Would he not agree to sell him a new wand, since he obviously didn't take good enough care of his first wand? And what if he didn't? How would Harry be able to stay in school without a wand?

"It… blew up?" Ollivander asked, bringing Harry back to the present.

"Y-yes, Sir," he said.

"And just how did that happen?"

"I… I tried to Reductor a thousand-year-old Basilisk. I knew it would be resistant to magical damage, so I overpowered the curse as much as I could."

Ollivander blinked. "How large was the curse, after it left your wand, would you say?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not entirely certain, exactly. It sent me flying and I didn't really get a very good look at it." He looked over at Amelia where she stood near the door to the shop.

"In the memory I viewed, it appeared to be approximately three feet across."

Ollivander blinked again. "Yes… well… that certainly _would_ do the job. That much power…" He trailed off, brow furrowed in thought. With a flick of his wand the Tape measure that Harry remembered from his previous visit floated over and started measuring him again.

"It is somewhat unusual for a wizard to need a new wand so young, Lord Potter," Ollivander said as he moved amongst the shelves, pulling box after box, which he brought back and stacked on the counter. "Enough," he told the tape measure in an exasperated tone of voice and it suddenly fell to the floor, once again completely inert.

"Many witches and wizards find, as they grow, that they are not the same person as they used to be when they were younger, and the wand that once suited them perfectly may no longer be such a good fit anymore. However, at your age, that is rarely the case."

He was still flitting about with a speed that belied his age but came to an abrupt halt, staring once again at Harry with those disconcerting eyes.

"Considering how powerful that curse was, I sincerely doubt that it no longer suited you anymore, and you were quite the tricky customer before."

"So this might take a while?" Harry asked as, behind him, Amelia was already settling herself into the spindly little chair against the wall to wait.

"Quite possibly, Lord Potter. Quite possibly. I feel I must also take this opportunity to point out that, if you think you are likely to have need to overpower curses like that in the future, then any wand you use is unlikely to hold up for long. Wands simply cannot stand up to that much power. You might find yourself with another wand exploding on you in the future as you will only continue to grow more powerful, for at least another few years before you reach your full maturity."

"But… what else can I do?" Harry asked. "I _have_ to have a wand for school, at the least."

"I would hesitate to mention at the moment , Lord Potter. Let us first determine if there is a wand that is suitable for you.

With that said, the old man opened one of the many boxes on the counter and held out a wand toward Harry, handle first. "Ten and three quarter inches, oak, with a dragon heartstring core, nice and whippy."

Stepping forward, Harry reached out and wrapped his fingers around the handle.

He then promptly dropped it, leaping back away from the wand with a strangled cry.

"Harry!" Amelia shouted as she leapt to her feet and strode quickly over to him. He jumped when she put a hand on his shoulder and she quickly lifted them both, palms out in front of her.

"Woah, Harry, it's just me," she said in a soothing voice. His eyes were wild, chest heaving as he drew in great gulps of air, and his hands trembled violently.

In short, he was terrified.

"What the _hell_ was that?" he snapped, whipping around to face Ollivander as he pointed to the simple, unassuming looking wand where it now lay on the floor of the shop.

"Well, well, well," Ollivander muttered. "How curious… how very curious…"

Harry and Amelia exchanged a confused look as the old wizard summoned the wand to his hand and placed it back into its box, all the while still muttering, "Cutious… curious…"

"Sorry," said Harry with an almost overwhelming sense of deja vu, "but what's curious?"

"Your reaction to that wand, Lord Potter. Tell me, what made you react that way?"

Harry frowned, finally calming down and thought carefully about how to answer that question. "It… as soon as I touched it I felt something… dangerous…" His brow furrowed even more.

"It was like… have you ever been somewhere, and felt like you were being watched? Even though you _know_ that you're alone, that no one is there? And then, the longer it goes on, the more your imagination starts playing with you. You think you see something moving out of the corner of your eye. You start to hear scratching noises, or even whispers in the dark or somewhere just out of sight. Then, you suddenly know, you _know_ that something, something awful, and vicious, with a maw filled with razor sharp teeth is standing _right_ behind you and you spin around, but there's nothing there."

"Then you feel its breath on the back of your neck."

By the time he finished he had his arms wrapped around himself and Amelia and Ollivander were both openly gaping at him.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and his whole body shook slightly as he let it out before his eyes focused back on the old wand maker.

"It felt like that," he said, "but all in an instant."

They were silent for nearly a minute longer before Ollivander breathed out a quiet, "My word."

He seemed to shake himself a moment later and eyed the stacks of boxes on the counter before him with a critical eye before he started rapidly pulling boxes out of the stacks, firmly setting each one aside as soon as he had them in hand.

"There will be no dragon heartstrings for you, Lord Potter," he said. "And if you know anyone who has a dragon heartstring core in their wands, I would highly recommend that you _never_ touch them."

Harry nodded and gave a weak chuckle. "Noted," he said.

Ollivander quirked a small smile before he selected and held out another wand. Eleven and a half inches, ash, with unicorn tail hairs, a bit stiff."

Harry eyed the wand, warily, as if he expected it to suddenly bite him. Slowly, he reached for the wand and gingerly wrapped the scarred fingers of his right hand around the handle.

Amelia realized that she was holding her breath and forced herself to exhale when Harry didn't immediately freak out after his skin came into contact with the smoothly polished handle of the wand. Instead, he held it for a handful of seconds before he shook his head, firmly, and set the wand on the counter, absently scrubbing his hand on the leg of his trousers, as if trying to wipe away something dirty.

"No," he said. "No, that one doesn't feel good."

Ollivander arched one bushy silver eyebrow at him but simply nodded and put the wand back in its box. "Very well," he said, as he opened a third box. "Try this one. Nine inches, cherry and phoenix feather, nice and flexible."

Harry grasped the wand and a moment later all three of them cried out in shock as the wand burst into flames in his hand. He dropped it in surprise and they watched as, within seconds, the wand had been reduced to ash, leaving a gleaming red and gold feather, along with a few scorch marks, behind on the shops floor.

"I'm sorry," Harry almost immediately blurted out.

"That is quite all right, my Lord," Ollivander hastened to reassure him, even though he still appeared stunned. "I am quite positive that you did not do it on purpose. Though, I am afraid that does leave us with a bit of a conundrum."

"What might that be?" Amelia asked while Ollivander summoned the feather into his hand and gently dusted off the ash that lightly coated it.

"It appears that none of my wands will work for Lord Potter. Dragon heartstrings react rather violently to him. Unicorn hairs feel… tainted?" he asked, looking toward Harry who nodded rapidly. He really did not like how the unicorn tail wand had felt in his hand, like something oily was creeping across his skin. "And obviously, I do not want to risk any more of my phoenix feather wands in case this reaction was not a one time event."

He fell silent as he studied Harry again, his eyes almost gleaming in the duly lit shop.

"That glow, in your eyes, Lord Potter," he said, finally. "That was missing last time you were here, was it not?"

"Umm… yeah, that's a… a recent development, you might say."

The old wand smith pursed his lips thoughtfully even as his aged brow furrowed into a deep frown. He appeared to be muttering to himself as he thought for several moments, leaning casually against the counter in front of him. "Would you show me your right hand, Lord Potter?" he asked, suddenly, and Harry blinked in surprise before he glanced at Amelia.

She only shrugged, as confused as he was, but motioned him toward the old man anyway.

Approaching, carefully, Harry held out his hand, and very nearly jumped out of his skin when long, spindly fingers wrap tightly, but not painfully, about his wrist, pulling him forward half a step even as his hand was turned over so that his palm faced up toward the ceiling.

Ollivander bent low over his hand, looking carefully at the dozens of new scars that dotted his fingers and his palm, until he pushed up the sleeve of Harry's robe and shirt, just enough to see the dark colored scar at his wrist.

"These scars, they happened when your wand was destroyed?" he asked, absently.

"Yes, Sir," Harry muttered, contemplating yanking his hand back but he forced himself to remain still.

"What happened to the feather?"

"What?"

"The feather, Lord Potter. The magical core of your wand, a phoenix feather donated by Fawkes, Headmaster Dumbledore's familiar. What happened to it?"

At that Harry glanced desperately at Amelia again. He really wasn't sure what he could, or even should say.

"Mister Ollivander," Amelia cut in, stepping forward to gently pry the old mans fingers from around Harry's wrist. "I'll tell you what happened, but I would like your word that you won't say anything to anyone about it unless given permission by Lord Potter, and no one else, not even me."

He turned his eyes to her, his curiosity well and truly stirred up and quickly drew his own wand. "I swear by my life and magic to not speak to anyone of what I am about to learn from Lord Harry James Potter and Regent Amelia Susan Bones unless given leave directly by Lord Potter himself, so I say, so mote it be."

Harry and Amelia both blinked at the flash of light that signaled his Oath going into effect and Amelia frowned. "The Oath is appreciated, though unnecessary, your word would have been sufficient."

Ollivander shrugged. "I have never seen these kinds of reactions in anyone before. I did not wish to risk the chance that my word would be insufficient for you to be willing to explain to me what happened."

Quickly, Amelia explained to him how the feather was embedded in his arm and what it was doing, acting as a part of his circulatory system. By the time she'd finished he was nearly bouncing in place.

"Lord Potter, would you be willing to indulge me in a small experiment?"

Harry hesitated for a moment before speaking, "What kind of experiment?"

"A simple lumos charm, nothing dramatic, I assure you."

After thinking it over for a moment, he shrugged and nodded and Ollivander nearly cackled with glee as he dove under the counter and came up with a simple wand, free of any embellishments or decorations made of a smooth dark wood with a fine grain. He handed it over and Harry, for the fourth time, hesitantly reached out and grasped the handle of the wand, almost cringing as he waited for… something to happen.

When nothing did, he straightened up, almost imperceptibly and stared at the wand in his hand with a rather confused expression on his face. "Huh?" he muttered, carefully studying the length of wood in his hand.

"Lord Potter?"

He looked up for a moment before glancing down again. "I don't feel anything," he admitted. "No warmth or tingling or anything. It… it just feels like a piece of wood."

"Please, Lord Potter, indulge me if you would. Like when you would overpower your spells, draw on your magic, push it down your arm as if you were trying to channel it into your wand, though not too much, and just cast a simple lumos, please."

With a sigh, not really sure what the point was with a wand that he really didn't feel any connection to, whatsoever, he complied with the request. He took a slow minute to carefully draw on his magic, reaching for that well of power and pulling slowly at it, coaxing it along and down the length of wood in his hand until he felt it warm just slightly before he murmured a quiet, "Lumos."

Instantly the tip of the wand lit up with a small, but steady light. It wasn't nearly as bright as a lumos he would cast with his first wand, but it worked. A moment later he whispered the counter charm, 'nox' and the light went out.

When he looked up he blinked in surprise and actually took a step back. Ollivander was practically vibrating, leaning far over the counter with his face far closer to Harry than he'd expected when he first looked up at the old man and it was making him decidedly uncomfortable.

"If I may, Lord Potter?" Ollivander asked, holding his hand out for the wand.

Bemused, Harry handed it over as Ollivander continued talking.

"All of the various wand cores that I keep in my store, Lord Potter, are each stored in separate containers and not allowed to interact with each other after they have been treated so that they may serve as cores. Do you know why that is?"

Harry shook his head, mutely.

"Because after each core is treated through a process known only to my family, they become quite volatile when exposed to other, similarly treated cores. There is a reaction that forces me to keep each item separate until they are ready to be placed within a wand blank. You, unless I miss my guess, should never _need_ a wand again."

"But I can't go to school without a wand!" Harry protested. "I can't do magic without a wand."

"Lord Potter, you just _did_ magic, without a wand."

"… What?"

Without saying anything else Ollivander took the wand he was holding in both hands and with a quick flexing of his arms, snapped it in half, before handing the two halves to Harry.

He took them and examined each before looking up again. "They're empty?" he asked, before looking back at the hollow channel that ran through the center of the wand.

"Yes, Lord Potter. That, is a wand blank. A wand that I have yet to place a core inside of. You already _have_ a wand core. Therefore there is no wand you will ever be able to use while that feather is still embedded in your arm. Your magic, channeled through that feather, will react negatively to the cores in any other wand."

Harry gaped at the old man for a moment before turning to stare at Amelia who had a thoughtful expression on her face.

She did a small double take when she realized that Harry was staring at her and gave him a sheepish seeming smile. "I hadn't really thought too much about it, but I'll admit, the idea that maybe the core would still act as a core while in your arm did occur to me at one point yesterday. I just didn't know how we might try it or test for it. But the fact that you cast a lumos with a hollow piece of wood seems like a pretty good indicator."

"B-but… God dammit! Seriously, can't _anything_ in my life ever be simple?" he almost whined with a plaintive look at her and she came forward to pull him into a careful hug.

"Look at it this way, kiddo. It's an advantage that could be really helpful in the future."

"How?"

"Well, first of all, you'll never drop your wand and be without a weapon."

"Wand movements are a part of classes though, without a wand I can't demonstrate I know the spell, properly, and-"

"Slow down, Harry," she interrupted, pulling back and holding him out at arms length with her hands on his shoulders. "Look, right now you're not even one-hundred percent certain that's what you can do here. I think you'll need a little experimentation to nail it down for sure. And as for wand movements, well…" She trailed off, thinking fast for a moment before she smirked at him. "How about this…"

As Harry listened to her plan, he couldn't help but smile. It was simple and straightforward, and while it'd probably be odd and take some getting used to, it would also just as likely work. They quickly made arrangements with Ollivander, purchasing what they needed to and Harry, gratefully, started for the door when Ollivander called out from behind them.

"Umm… Lord Potter? Madam Bones?"

They turned, each looking at him questioningly when he glanced to his right and down at the counter.

"Would either of you happen to know why there is a sword on my counter?"

#####

"Well? How does it feel?"

Harry shrugged, studying the length of holly in his hand. It _looked_ like his old wand, but it clearly was _not_ his old wand, even taking into account that he knew that wand had been destroyed, the piece of wood in his hands just didn't have the same feel to it.

"I think it'll take some getting used to," he admitted before he carefully flicked his wrist, letting the charms in his new wand holster pull the piece of wood up his sleeve with a loud click. He'd been more than a little upset when he'd discovered his previous holster, a gift from Amelia, had been irreparably damaged when his wand exploded, but she'd assured him that she wasn't at all upset with him for it and had promptly purchased a new one along with the wand blank she'd talked Ollivander into selling.

It was her solution to Harry's class issue. After trying a lumos with nothing in his hand, producing a small ball of light that floated over his palm, it was pretty clear he really didn't need a wand. But as he'd said, demonstrating wand movements was a part of his exams. At least with an empty blank he could practice the movements and demonstrate them in class, and since the wood was the same type as his wand had been, he found it a bit easier to cast his spells through the blank, though Ollivander had made it very clear to them that he would not be able to use it as he would use a normal wand. Any excessive spell casting would burn up the wood.

Still, it would help, for now, to hide the fact that he could perform magic without the use of a wand, a skill that might prove itself to be a useful ability to keep hidden from any potential, or current, enemies. If they didn't know he could do it, Amelia had told him, they wouldn't know to prevent him from trying.

"What am I supposed to do about this?" he asked, pointing to the Sword of Gryffindor where he'd wrapped it in some canvas cloth, supplied by Ollivander, before they left the shop. "How did it get on the counter back there, anyway?"

"I've no earthly idea, Harry," she said with a sigh, studying the bundle carefully herself over her plate of shepherds pie. "We're heading to Gringotts after we're done with lunch though, so we can ask them. It _is_ a goblin made sword, after all. I'm sure they'll be able to tell us something about it.

Harry grunted at that and finished his food before he pulled a muggle notepad from an inside pocket of his robes and a pen and flipped open the pad, turning pages as he went until he reached what looked like a list of items and started scribbling a few notes down.

"What's that you're working on, if you don't mind my asking?" Amelia asked between bites of her lunch. "If it's anything related to House Potter business you know you have no obligation to tell me, and some things you won't actually be able to say to me since we're not actually related by blood."

"Yeah, I got a run down on House Secrets and such from Neville just after we swore our Oaths. No this is just some more questions I wanted to ask Dumbledore when I get a chance."

She hummed at that in a non committal sort of way, taping her fork on her plate lightly for a moment before she set it down and slid the plate aside. "How are you feeling about that whole situation, anyway?" she asked, studying him carefully to try to gauge his reaction.

His brow furrowed as he frowned, but she didn't see the light in his eyes getting any brighter in the dimly lit interior of the Leaky Cauldron, so she didn't figure he was particularly pissed, at the moment at least.

"I'm not honestly sure," he admitted after thinking about it. "On the one hand, the fact that he owned up to making some pretty grievous mistakes is a good thing, I think. But on the other hand, I still have some questions that I don't know if I'm going to like the answers to, really."

"Like what?"

"The Stone, last year."

She arched a brow at him and leaned back in her seat, picking up her water and taking a sip as she observed him, waiting silently for him to continue.

"Since he brought up this… _prophecy_ ," he hissed, leaning in and lowering his voice as he did so, "I can't help thinking that he might have been… I don't know, testing me, or something?"

"Testing you how?"

"Well, did he really not know that Quirrell was possessed? If he didn't, how? He's supposed to be extremely knowledgeable, shouldn't he have noticed _something_? And then there were some questionable actions he took too throughout the year. Like when the troll got in on Halloween, he told all the students to return to their common rooms. Except the Slytherin and Hufflepuff dorms are both in the dungeons, exactly where Quirrell had just screamed the troll was located. Why send them right in the path of where they thought a dangerous creature was supposed to be located?

"And then there was those security measures around the Stone. A bunch of first year students got through them, relatively easily. Yeah, Neville got hurt with that nasty cut on his arm, but the rest of us all got through it basically unscathed up until the end. And you and the Aurors ripped through them all with no problems whatsoever. And these were supposed to stop a powerful dark lord or other dark wizard that was trying to steal the Stone?"

He shook his head. "No, it all seems a little too convenient to me. I feel like he's got this idea in his head that cause I'm supposedly part of this… this thing, that he was testing me to see how I'd do, or maybe how I'd react? I'm really not sure."

The more he talked the deeper and deeper grew the furrow of Amelia's own brow.

"Sweet baby Maeve," she muttered. "I didn't think of it like that. I was just thinking he behaved incredibly stupidly, but we all know Dumbledore isn't _that_ stupid."

"It's still possible he simply made some mistakes, or a series of them, but I don't know," he said again, shooting her a grin. "It feels like too many coincidences to me."

"And enough coincidences is indicative of a pattern," she added with a smile of her own. "Glad to hear you're listening to me, kiddo." She glanced at her watch and pushed back her chair as she stood. "Come on, let's get this meeting with the goblins done and get you back to school. We'll worry about it then when we can actually go sit down with the whiskered one and put your questions to him, see what he says. It doesn't do us any good wondering without any further information."

Harry nodded and jumped up himself, eager to get through the rest of their errands so he could get back to the school for when they revived Hermione and Neville.

"And don't forget that," she added, pointing to the wrapped sword on the chair next to him. He flushed slightly since he _had_ been about to walk off without it and picked it up, carefully tucking the weapon under one arm as she lead him through the pub and back into the Alley toward Gringotts.

#####

"When are we going to tell him?" Susan asked, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She and Daphne were standing in one of two private rooms in the school's Hospital Wing. Each room included a small bathroom. They'd nearly begged Madam Pomfrey to allow them to use the loo so they could inspect their newest scars without worrying about any of their dorm mates walking in on them. Daphne was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, her eyes directed at her shoes, while Susan stood in front of the sink, her robes, shirt, and tie discarded, leaving her in just her skirt and bra as she examined the long slash of a scar that crossed her torso.

"I don't know," Daphne muttered. "I was thinking we might be able to talk to him this summer, finally let it all out but… with these new scars… you _know_ he'll get down on himself for them. He already still blames himself for the scars from the abuse and those were in no way his fault. But these? These aren't his fault either but they are the result of actions that he took and you know him, he'll blame himself completely."

"But we've made it clear to him that we're not letting him push us away. He can't close off the bond anymore, and we're closer there than ever before. With our right hands, we're going to need to keep a permanent glamour on our hands from now on just to keep him from seeing the scars from his wand blowing up."

"I know, Susan. I know, but I honestly don't know what else to do. You know he's going to be pissed no matter what, but pissed _and_ blaming himself at the same time? He might know we won't just let him push us away, but that doesn't mean he won't try."

Susan sighed and nodded, still staring at the scar for a few moments longer before turning attention to the two circular marks on her right bicep that showed where the fang had pierced Harry's arm.

"Dammit, I want to be pissed at him!" she suddenly burst out, causing Daphne to jump in surprise and her head shot up to look at her bond mate. "He's a boy, he might hate his scars but it's different for us, girls, isn't it." It wasn't a question. "I… I _want_ to be angry at him for doing this to us but I can't because we haven't _told_ him what happens to _us_ when he get's hurt. And what if-" Susan stopped talking, clamping her lips shut and, out of habit, pulled the long braid she'd made of her hair over her left shoulder, tugging on it absently.

Daphne frowned. "Why are you worried?" she asked. "And don't try to deny it, you know I can feel it."

Susan nervously shifted her feet, her right hand coming up to trace the scar. It ran across her left breast, just missing her nipple by mere millimeters all the way to stop just above her navel. It was nearly half an inch wide, a thick line of raised scar tissue several shades darker than her normal light skin tone.

She could feel Daphne's eyes boring into her, the other girls gaze never moving and she sighed in defeat. "What if… what if he thinks we're ugly?"

Daphne reeled at that, almost as if she'd been slapped. "What?" she blurted out. "Are you completely insane?"

"I don't exactly have a lot going for me but my looks, Daphne," Susan snapped, irritated. "You and Hermione are both beautiful but you're also smart, funny, determined. You've got the same kind of cunning that Harry has. He and Hermione both love their books, to an almost disturbing degree sometimes. I don't have anything like that. I swear I… I don't know why I'm part of this bond sometimes. I don't have much at all in common with the rest of you, especially not him. We know where this is leading to and my looks are really about all I have to-"

Her eyes widened when Daphne suddenly stood and slid in between Susan and the sink, almost shoving the larger girl back a step as she placed two fingers over Susan's lips, effectively silencing her.

"You have absolutely no idea how envious Hermione and I both get of you, do you?" Daphne murmured quietly, staring intently into Susan's eyes from only inches away.

Susan turned her head, pulling away from Daphne's fingers so she could speak. "What? I thought you two weren't jealous-"

"Not jealous. Not jealous of you and your relationship with Harry. But envious of you, personally, there's a lot of people in the school that are envious of you Susan." She slid out from between Susan and the sink and moved behind her, placing her hands on the other girls hips. "Look in the mirror," she ordered. "Tell me what you see."

Susan tried to turn but the hands on her hips tightened, holding her in place.

"Tell me what you see," Daphne demanded, insistently.

"Oh fine," Susan sighed. "I see a relatively pretty girl who is marred by scars and doesn't have nearly enough other redeeming qualities to counteract that deformity," she spat out in a despondent tone.

"You're just as big an idiot as we accuse Harry of being," Daphne retorted, causing Susan to jerk her eyes up, looking at the blonds reflection over her shoulder.

"What?"

"The scars are awful, yes, but they don't detract from your appearance at all. Your hair is a little listless right now since you haven't been well, but normally it's so soft and vibrant, I've heard many girls complaining how they wish they had your hair. Your eyes are the most amazing blue I have ever seen, absolutely captivating at times. You're just a tad on the chubby side, but not unpleasantly, and as you grow that'll more than likely even out. Like your aunt you'll have a slender build just broader in the shoulders and hips than Hermione or me."

Daphne smirked at her through the mirror. "You'll need that too, because you're going to end up with a ridiculous bust line before you're finished growing."

Susan's face turned beet red at that and she stammered a bit before she fell silent as Daphne continued speaking.

"Aside from the physical though, you're honest, loyal, funny, down to earth, and generally just the solid, dependable sort of person Harry and Hermione and I need in our lives. And you're by no means dumb. You do just as well in our classes as the rest of us, you just haven't found your niche yet." Absently, Daphne's thumbs stroked the incredibly soft skin along Susan's sides, just above her hips and the sensation sent gooseflesh rippling across her skin as a shiver ran through her body.

"Yes, physically, you're gorgeous, and you're only going to get more beautiful," Daphne whispered. "But there's a lot more to you than just your body. You don't have to worry that Harry won't be attracted to you, I can promise you that."

Susan thought carefully about what her bond mate had said even as Daphne stepped away, almost reluctantly removing her hands from the red head's hips, and didn't notice the saddened expression on her face as she slipped out of the room, leaving Susan to her thoughts.

#####

Daphne sat quietly in her seat beside Hermione's bed with Susan sitting to her left while Harry and Amelia sat on the opposite side, facing each other, so that they could also easily turn toward Neville in the next bed over. Twenty minutes earlier, Harry and Amelia had returned from their outing to the Alley, but put off answering any questions until after their petrified friends were returned to them. Harry especially wouldn't say anything about the sword hanging on his left hip in a sheathe that was belted around his waist.

Ten minutes after the two came and sat by the beds, Madam Pomfrey made her way over and started dispensing doses of the Mandrake Restorative Potion.

"They should be back with us within thirty minutes," she'd said, after dribbling the potion into both Hermione's and Neville's mouths.

She'd stopped listening after that. Daphne sat quietly in her seat beside Hermione's bed, lost in her thoughts. _Mother was wrong,_ she thought, as her mind cast back to earlier that morning with Susan. She had been so concerned over how Harry might perceive them, once he found out about the scars. She hadn't been concerned about how the other girls would see her. To Daphne, that was simply further indication that her mothers hope for her daughter wasn't realistic.

"Daphne?"

She turned her head, absently, to find Susan staring intently at her. She gave the other girl a small smile and tightened up her Occlumency, clamping down as hard as she could on her emotions. She couldn't block the link, anymore, but she could still manage her emotions, as she'd been taught. If there was one bright spot in this, she could at least take solace in the fact that Hermione hadn't heard a word of her confession to her the night before she and Harry had been attacked. Daphne honestly didn't know what she would do if Hermione woke and looked at her with the kind of disgust she knew she could expect from most people in both the wizarding and muggle worlds if they knew the truth about her.

Her train of thought was quite suddenly derailed when a quiet moan drifted through the air and Hermione shifted on the bed between them and all eyes darted to the young witch, watching carefully. She had been found crouched low to the ground against the wall, her right hand across her body as she'd held a small hand mirror around the corner in order to look down the next hall when she'd been petrified. Her arm fell an inch, until it was resting on her stomach across her body, just as her legs, pulled up toward her middle dropped, until her heels were on the mattress.

In moments she'd straightened out, her legs lying on the bed even as her arms moved to rest along her sides and slowly her face scrunched up, brow wrinkling and her eyes squeezing tightly shut before they blinked open and she stared, somewhat dazed up at the off white ceiling above her.

"Hermione?" Daphne heard Harry ask but she was too focused on the bright cinnamon colored eyes of their bond mate to notice if he'd moved. A moment later all three of them, Daphne, Susan, and Harry, hissed, hands coming up to their heads before they shuddered, nearly in perfect unison as Hermione's presence flooded their minds. Susan even let out a slight whimpering moan as all the built up tension from the weeks cut off from part of their bond just drained out of them.

"Harry?" Hermione muttered, her voice weak for a moment before she blinked and her dazed expression started to clear, her eyes brightening as awareness returned and she suddenly sat up sharply in the bed for just a moment before she fell back with a groan. Daphne understood immediately, as did Harry and Susan. They could feel a deep aching in their bodies as joints and muscles that hadn't moved in weeks protested Hermione's sudden action.

"Don't move, yet," Daphne told her. "You were petrified, Hermione. Do you remember?"

Bushy hair swished across the pillow beneath her as she slowly shook her head.

"Oh, sweet Merlin, uncomfortable," she moaned and the rest of them couldn't help a small smile as Neville slowly started to stir in the next bed.

"Oh!" Hermione blurted out and turned to look at Harry. "Harry, it's a Basilisk! The Beast of Slytherin, it's a Basilisk, that's why you can hear it. It's speaking in Parsletongue."

"We know, Hermione. Just… slow down," Harry told her, reaching out to gently take her hand in his. "What's this?" he asked. He kept hold of her hand, but used his other to tug free a piece of parchment that had been clenched in her fist.

"It's the page with the entry about Basilisks from the book I was reading in the Library," she said. "You didn't find it? How did you know about it then?"

Harry exchanged looks with Daphne, Susan, and Amelia before he sighed and scooted his chair closer to the bed.

"A lot has happened in the last three and a half weeks or so," he started. "What it really boiled down to was one night when Daphne and I were leaving the Hospital Wing…"

#####

It took nearly two hours. Two hours to tell the tale, with Amelia and the girls help, and with Hermione and Neville frequently asking questions. The description of the battle had Hermione struggling, despite her pain, to sit up so that she could pull Harry into a bone crushing hug. Or, it would have been, if she'd had the strength. As it was, Harry leaned down so that she could weakly wrap her arms around his neck for a few moments as several tears escaped her eyes.

While they talked, Madam Pomfrey made her way around the Wing, plying each of the victims with potions to help with the pain and weakness. She started with those affected the longest, working her way toward their end of the Wing. The tale, including the conversation held with everyone after Harry had woken, but excluding his injuries and current condition as a result of those, was just completed when Poppy finished with Neville and moved on to work on Hermione. At which point, new privacy screens came up and Harry found himself being kicked out, leaving just the ladies with Hermione.

Before he left, though, Amelia reached out and grabbed his left arm, bringing him up short and causing him to turn toward her, questioningly.

"We're going to tell her what happened to you, you know?" she muttered and he sighed, nodding, even though he wished they wouldn't. He really didn't want Hermione to worry more than she already had. He'd managed to avoid telling her just how badly he'd been hurt during the fight, something he had been glad the others hadn't called him on at the time, but it looked like they'd only done it to avoid causing the girl more pain. He knew she would have forced herself out of bed to start checking him over, despite the evidence that he was perfectly fine.

Amelia hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "I also think, you should let the girls tell her about…" she trailed off but tapped his forearm with her fingers and he blanched. Thinking furiously for a moment he finally sighed again and gave her a dejected nod. Daphne and Susan had seen it, finally, it only seemed appropriate that Hermione should know as well.

He stepped out from behind the screen and felt a tingle of magic behind him as privacy wards or silencing charms went up and he moved across the narrow space to Neville's bed, dropping heavily into a seat next to his friend. Neville was sitting up in his bed finally, most of his pain gone, leaving only a lingering stiffness that had him slowly flexing his limbs and bending joints, as per Poppy's instructions. Harry was most surprised by the somber, or perhaps pensive, expression on the young Lords face.

"What's wrong, Nev?" Harry asked as he settled into the seat, grateful for something to distract him from the conversation he knew was taking place on the other side of the screens. At first it was awkward, with the sword hanging from his belt, but he eventually figured out how to shift the weapon so it wasn't uncomfortable and settled in, waiting for his friend to speak.

"I owe you a huge apology, Harry," Neville spoke, quietly, his tone matching the uneasy expression on his face.

"Huh?" Harry asked, head tilted slightly to the side in his confusion. "What're you talking about, Mate?"

"I promised you that I would protect Hermione, and I failed," Neville muttered dejectedly.

Harry gaped at him for a moment before he just shook his head and sighed. "You did everything you could, Neville, don't worry about it." The irony of the situation was not lost on him. For him to defend his friend against the very same accusations he'd leveled at himself the day they'd woken up after Neville and Hermione had been petrified.

 _Okay,_ he thought as Neville stared at him in dumbfounded surprise. _I finally get it._

"But Harry-"

"No, Neville. Look, Susan and Daphne already hammered this into my head, with your Gran's help. Now, I'm going to return the favor, are you listening?"

"My Gran?" Neville spluttered. "What's she have to do with-"

"Nev!" Harry practically barked, snapping his fingers a few inches in front of the stunned Longbottom's nose in order to get his attention. "Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah, okay. Sorry, Harry, go ahead."

Harry watched him carefully for a moment longer to make sure he was really paying attention before he started speaking. "When you two were attacked, when Hermione was, Daphne, Susan, and I all collapsed."

Neville's eyes widened. "Like the girls did last year when you…" he trailed off and Harry nodded.

"Yeah. Took two days before we woke up, and when we did… you can't imagine how it hurt, Nev. Hermione was… we could still feel her, but the bond was… broken, or maybe just fractured? Either way we could _just_ feel that she was still connected to us but it was so faint as to be barely noticeable. We had to search for her to be able to tell. And the pain was inescapable, it wasn't physical, but it still hurt in a way I just can't put into words. Susan was so bad that she had to be dosed with Dreamless Sleep."

"Harry, where are you going with this?"

"Just, bear with me," Harry urged his friend.

Neville sighed and leaned back in his bed, arms crossed over his chest. "Fine," he sighed, gesturing for Harry to continue.

"Anyway, I was doing the same thing you're doing right now. I blamed myself. Tried to argue that I should have stopped her or I should have gone with you two. After Daphne and Amy tried to convince me otherwise, your Gran finally just told me off."

At that, Neville couldn't help a small smirk. "Yeah," he said. "Gran's good at that."

Harry snorted out a laugh. "Understatement," he muttered. "She told me that I did what I could. I had other responsibilities that meant I couldn't go with. I cautioned her to be careful and you were with her. But it was the last that that she said that most stuck with me. She said, 'You aren't a god, young man. You cannot do everything and be everywhere.'" He leaned forward in his seat, looking Neville in the eye. "You did what you could, Nev. In that hallway, you had no room to maneuver, no where to escape to, really

"If you hadn't all been petrified, then you'd likely be dead. You aren't a god, Nev. No one expects you to have been able to fight that thing off."

"You fought it off," Neville pointed out. "Hell, you killed the damn thing."

"I got ridiculously lucky. By all rights I never should have lived through that fight, much less have actually been able to kill it. You don't owe me, or the girls, anything. If you really think you didn't do all you could, then train harder. Work harder. Learn more, and, next time there's a dangerous situation, you'll be better prepared."

Neville studied Harry carefully for several seconds before his expression became determined, that steely glint entering his gaze again and he nodded, once.

"So, I'm 'Amy' now?"

Harry closed his eyes and groaned quietly for a moment before he opened them again and looked at Neville, who now appeared to be more than a little bit amused.

"How long has she been standing there?" Harry asked.

"Long enough, Harry," Amelia said from behind him, but Harry didn't turn around.

"Are the girls with her?" he asked and Neville nodded, his lips turning up into a smug smirk.

"Does Hermione look pissed at me?" He knew she was. He'd felt her shock a few minutes earlier and then felt when it had morphed into anger.

Neville nodded again, his smirk spreading into a grin.

With a sigh, Harry turned around in the chair to find the privacy curtains were standing open and, in the gap, Amelia stood with her arms crossed over her breasts, Susan and Hermione standing on her right side and Daphne on her left.

"Umm… hi?" he tried, giving them a nervous smile.

"You know there are very few people that I have ever allowed to call me Amy, Harry," she said, her expression stern but he could see the amusement in her deep blue eyes, no matter how she tried to hide it. "I just might be persuaded to let you use it, if you'll agree to, at least occasionally, throw an 'aunt' in front of it?"

Harry's nervous smile grew into a pleased grin and he could only nod.

"That goes for you girls as well," she added with a glance to Daphne and Hermione, both of whom smiled and mumbled an agreement. All too quickly for Harry, however, Hermione's sharp gaze landed on him and she reached out and grabbed the front of his robes, tugging hard until he followed her and the other girls back behind the screen as they snapped shut, blocking them from view.

"Somebodies in trouuuble," Neville said in a sing song tone of voice.

Amelia couldn't help a laugh and dropped into the seat Harry had just been bodily yanked out of before she eyed Neville for a moment. "Same to you, Lord Longbottom. Aunt Amy is perfectly acceptable, if you're of a mind."

Neville sat up straighter in his bed and beamed a broad smile at her. "Well, if I'm expected to be allowed to use 'Aunt Amy' then I insist you call me Neville, or even Nev, as Harry and the girls like to do."

"Easy enough, Neville. I wanted to reinforce what Harry was telling you. None of us blame you for anything. You're a good lad, and you did the best you could with the situation you had. Understood?" Her tone brooked no argument and he found himself nodding rapidly even before she'd finished speaking.

After a minute of silence stretched between them he glanced at the screens.

"So… just how much trouble do you think he's really in back there?" he asked, cheekily.

Amelia's only answer was an amused smirk and a silent shake of her head as they settled in to wait for the quartet to return to them.

#####

"I want to see," Hermione demanded after Susan and Daphne pulled the screens shut and she pushed Harry so that he was sitting on the edge of her hospital bed.

"Wha…?"

"The scars, Harry. Let me see the scars," she barked, her eyes hard and her brow furrowed in anger as she glared at him.

He cast a desperate look in Daphne's and Susan's directions but both of them simply held up their hands and shook their heads.

"Oh, no. Don't look at us, Harry," Susan said. "You know damn well she was going to want to see the results of your newest adventure. And the old one. She's a part of us, remember? We saw them, and you already know what we think, she deserves that same chance."

He looked back and forth between the three of them for several moments. Yeah, he'd resigned himself to the knowledge that Hermione deserved to know, but he hadn't really planned on actually _showing_ her. In their faces, he saw no give, no sign that they might relent in this request, or demand. Finally, he sighed and stood up, shrugging out of his robes in the process before he started working on the buttons of his black dress shirt. When he had half the buttons undone, he pulled the shirt aside so could see the top part of the scar on his chest.

She shook her head. "Not good enough, Harry, you know that."

"This isn't easy you know," he snapped without any real heat in his tone.

The three of them glanced at each other before Susan sighed and moved forward, past Daphne and Hermione, until she was standing right in front of him, her right hand coming up to rest on his chest over his heart.

"What'd I tell you, Harry?" she murmured quietly, holding his gaze with her own. "You don't have to hide, you shouldn't have to hide at all but out of everyone in the world, the three of us are the ones you absolutely never have to hide from."

He hesitated again but eventually nodded and she smiled brightly at him before stepping to the side as he finished unbuttoning his shirt and pulled it off, tossing it on the bed behind him.

Hermione noticed the stiff way that he held himself, there was no missing that. She noticed the slight tremor that ran through his frame, both visually, and through their bond. But she didn't noise the way his eyes were directed at the floor, unwilling to look at her and see her face as she took in the latest damage.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she edged her way closer to him, her hands moving without conscious direction from her body as she reached out and gently grasped his wrist with one hand, pulling his arm forward and turning it to gently trace the scar inside his forearm with her fingers as her vision blurred slightly and she blinked back the tears that wanted to spill over.

Next, she turned her attention to the slash across his torso, noting how it nearly bisected him completely and ran one finger from his collar bone down the length of the scar. The lions share of her attention was fixed on studying the damage done to her bond mate, but some small part noted the lean, wiry frame he'd built, and the way muscles coiled and tightened beneath his skin as her finger stroked gently across heated flesh.

She looked at the scars that pierced his bicep, noting that the one on the back of his arm was slightly smaller than the one on the front before she took his right hand in hers and lifted it, examining the dozens of new scars scattered across his skin.

"This is where the feather from your wand ended up?" she asked in a quiet tone as she inspected his forearm, trying to see some sign of the large feather she was told lay embedded there.

"Yeah." His voice came out as a choked whisper and she finally looked up, realizing he was avoiding looking at her and she lifted her hand to cup his cheek, gently directing his gaze to hers.

"You poor, courageous, fool," she muttered and leaned forward to wrap her arms around him in a tight hug, burying her face against his neck. "Dammit, Harry. Why does everything seem to happen to you?"

"Language, Hermione," Daphne muttered, a grin tugging at her lips that only widened when the other witch took one arm from around Harry's waist and swatted at the air in her general direction for a moment before she wrapped it back around him.

Harry, for his part, had stiffened up for the first time in a while when Hermione's arms wrapped around him. He'd gotten used to, even found himself wanting these embraces from his girls. But he wasn't wearing a shirt this time, and he was finding himself feeling distinctly uncomfortable in his current situation.

Finally, Hermione pulled back from him and offered him a watery smile before she stepped away, giving him time to put his shirt back on, the sword hanging from his belt clattering against the side of the bed as he moved.

"So are you going to finally tell us what's going on with that?" Susan asked after he buttoned his shirt and tucked it into his slacks, pointing at the sword.

"Uhh… yeah… yeah we can do that. Why don't we go sit with Neville and Amy? I think I might need her help to explain this one…"

#####

Harry followed Amelia up the steps into Gringotts, nodding to the guards standing at the entrance as they passed, and moved into the lobby, his eyes scanning the tellers for sign of a familiar figure.

He saw no sign of Griphook so he stepped up to the nearest free teller that he could see with Amelia beside him and both of them bowed slightly as the surly looking creature looked up at them. On the way in, Harry had pinned the medal he'd received from Ragnok to his robes and one glance at the gleaming gold had the Goblin sitting up straighter in his seat, his eyes studying the two of them carefully.

"How may Gringotts help you today?" he asked in as polite a tone as most goblins were likely to use with magical humans that they were not personally familiar with.

"I pray your vaults overflow this day, Teller," Harry said. "I am Harry Potter and I was wondering if I could speak with my Accounts Manager Sharpshard? I do not have an appointment, however, it was recommended to me, recently, that I visit the goblins so I hope that he might have time to meet with me today."

Harry was rather nervous to be standing in the middle of the bank lobby with a sword in hand, even one that was wrapped in canvas and tied securely. Goblins were not known to respond well to threats, and carrying a weapon in hand could easily be considered as such to their warlike race.

"Well met, Lord Potter, Friend to the Goblin Nation," the teller spoke. "I pray your enemies fall before you like wheat before the scythe." He half turned after returning their bow and gestured to a young goblin standing nearby who quickly vanished into the tunnels behind the long counter. "I have sent word to Manager Sharpshard," he said. "If you and your companion would take a seat, I am sure that someone will be with you, soon," he added, gesturing to the chairs along the wall by the door.

They bowed again, only slightly, and made their way over to the seat but were met part way there by a familiar figure rushing out of the tunnels.

"Lord Potter," Griphook greeted them when he was close enough that he wouldn't be raising his voice. "I am surprised to see you here in the middle of the school year."

They exchanged greeting and Harry gave the little goblin a sheepish grin.

"Yeah, there's a bit of a story behind that to be honest," he admitted.

Griphook arched a bushy brow at him, his face taking on a curious expression.

"After the story you told to Branch Manager Ragnok during this past Holiday… well, I have the feeling that this is going to be quite a tale." He smiled and gestured for them to follow him. "Please, Manager Sharpshard is waiting for us," he said and walked away, the two humans falling quickly into step behind him.

Forty-five minutes later, Harry and Amelia were treated to the sight of a dumbfounded pair of goblins. After being led to his office and greeting Sharpshard, tea and coffee was served and Harry launched into another retelling of the events that led to their presence in the bank. He quickly told everything he could of what had happened over the school year, even including Hermione and Neville getting petrified and by the time he explained his conversation with the sorting hat and the battle with the Basilisk both goblins mouths were hanging open in shock.

Sharpshard's mouth snapped shut with a loud click and his expression turned almost greedy as he leaned forward over the desk.

" _How_ big did you say the creature was?" he asked.

Harry shrugged. "I'm sorry, I didn't really stick around to measure it but it had to be at least sixty feet. I was a little pressed for time during the incident."

"I have seen the creature, after its death," Amelia cut in, "and I would estimate that it is between sixty and seventy feet in length."

"Lord Potter do you… do you realize quite what you've done?" Griphook asked in a dazed voice. When Harry shook his head he snorted and his eyes seemed to snap into focus. "The largest Basilisk on record was thirty-two feet in length. It was attacked by a team of twenty wizards and only three lived to tell the tale of that battle. For a single, twelve-year-old wizard, to kill a creature such as you described… it is quite literally unthinkable, My Lord."

Harry sighed and slumped back in his seat. "I really don't want more praise," he muttered and a moment later jumped when a loud voice boomed throughout the office.

"Lord Potter!" Sharpshard barked, scowling impressively at the boy who sat up sharply in his seat. "You have done something that has never been done before. You did it on your own merit, using your own skill and wits to fight and to survive in a situation where many others would have died. There is no arrogance in acknowledging and taking pride in ones accomplishments and you shame your House with this behavior."

The two stared at each other across the goblins wide desk for a few seconds before Harry nodded and sighed again.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't mean to… I just… I'm really sick of all the attention I get for something I didn't have anything to do with. People look at me like a thing and not a person, all for something that I had nothing to do with."

"But _this_ you did do. You, alone, fought and slayed the beast. You are more than entitled to the praise and reward for your own actions."

Harry smiled faintly as he thought that over. Sharpshard was right. The Boy-Who-Lived crap that pissed him off so much, he had no control over. But he _did_ kill the Basilisk himself. He fought Voldemort, or a version of him, again, and won, again. That was something that he could, and should, be proud of.

Sharpshard and Griphoook both hid a smile as they saw the change in the young Lord as he thought over the older goblins words. He sat up straighter, his shoulders came back and his head was held higher as brightly glowing eyes regarded them steadily.

"Much better, Lord Potter," Sharpshard muttered approvingly and Harry smiled at hime. "Now, may I take it you are going to ask to hire Gringotts for the rendering?"

Harry blinked and cocked his head to the side even as Amelia cursed under her breath and the heel of her hand struck her forehead. "Huh?" he said, bemused by both the question and Amelia's actions.

She gave him a chagrined look. "I'm sorry, Harry. It's been… well it's been a crazy week and you just woke up yesterday, with everything going on I honestly completely forgot."

"Forgot what?" he asked as his confusion only increased.

"The Basilisk corpse rightfully belongs to you, Lord Potter," Griphook spoke up from his place standing by Sharpshard's elbow. "By international law any person that kills a XXXX or higher creature while not on a protected reserve _and_ in the defense of human life is entitled to claim ownership of the carcass."

"And what exactly does that mean? What would I do with a sixty foot snake?"

"Basilisk parts are very valuable, My Lord," Griphook explained. "The organs, eyes and teeth are useful in many different potions but as breeding Basilisks is illegal in most countries in the world they are exceedingly rare. The venom is extremely valuable and the skin is some of the most highly magically resistant material in the world. It's even better than dragon hide in many respects. Law Enforcement agencies the world over would sell their first born children for an opportunity to bid on the hide in order to produce armor for their personnel. Potioneers and even some Alchemists will be clamoring over themselves to purchase or bid on the other parts of the creature

"And since you own it, you are entitled to the gold that rendering and selling the beast will generate. Considering the age of this creature, and its size, the potency of the organs and various parts should be higher than any other on record and the value of those parts should increase accordingly as well."

Harry shook off his surprise fairly quickly and considered the situation. "So, rendering," he muttered. "Is that something that I could hire Gringotts to handle for me? Along with the sale and everything?"

"That is precisely why I brought it up, Lord Potter," Sharpshard told him. "This is a service Gringotts offers and we could easily handle all of that for you, for a percentage of the profits, but I would actually like to speak with Branch Manager Ragnok before coming to any final decisions. To be honest, Basilisk meat is fairly useless to anyone except for us Goblins. The meet is something of a delicacy to our pallets and I am certain that we will want to make an offer for the meat."

He reached into his desk and pulled out a small, clear crystal cut into an octahedron and set it on his desk.

"This is a goblin made memory crystal. Much like the pensieves that wizards and witches use, this item can create and hold a copy of your memory of the creature. I also believe that Branch Manager Ragnok would like to see your memory of the battle itself. As a Friend to the Nation, a battle like this might see you further rewarded by the Nation, and he would be most interested in seeing for himself what happened."

Harry shrugged after a quick glance at Amelia. "I don't mind," he said. "How does it work?"

"If you will simply place the crystal against your forehead, any flat side will do, and think about the memory you wish to transfer, the crystal will do all the work."

Harry nodded and plucked the crystal off the desk, studying it for a moment before he placed it against his forehead and closed his eyes, thinking hard of the same memory that he allowed the others to view starting with when he and Daphne were attacked. After a few moments of nothing the crystal began to glow, softly, and in moments it gleamed with a bright white light that seemed to float somewhere deep in the center of the small structure.

It warmed suddenly in Harry's hand and he blinked his eyes open, pulling the crystal away to look at it curiously. "It just suddenly got really warm in my hand," he said, glancing at the aged goblin across from him who was nodding eagerly.

"That means that it has finished copying your memory," Sharsharpd told him, holding one clawed hand out across the desk. "May I, Lord Potter?"

He nodded and dropped the crystal into the goblins hand and watched as Sharpshard set it on the desk in front of him and tapped it with a claw while he muttered something in the goblin tongue under his breath. An image appeared above the crystal, a floating translucent picture of himself, a sword clutched in his right hand as a massive green shape sped toward him, mouth opening to reveal rows of enormous and wickedly sharp fangs just as the miniature Harry thrust forward and up with the sword.

The image faded and the silence stretched throughout the office as Amelia and Harry were treated, for the second time in an hour, to the sight of two completely shocked goblins.

"Lord Potter?" Sharpshard asked in a near whisper.

"Umm… yes, Accounts Manager Sharpshard?"

" _What_ sword was that?"

#####

"Honestly," Harry was saying as Neville and his girls listened carefully. "I thought the two of them were going to wet themselves when I told them about the Basilisk, they looked so surprised and then they were _so_ excited it was almost uncomfortable. But when I told them it was the sword of Gryffindor… man their reaction was pretty over the top."

Daphne chuckled quietly. "I can only imagine," she said. "Father always said that Goblins were a little too… enamored with their creations. To a goblin, when a goblin craftsman creates something, they believe that it belongs to the one that created it. When they sell those items, they don't see it as being sold, they look at it more as a long term rental agreement. When the which or wizard that purchased the item dies, they expect it to be returned to the goblins as the true owner of the item. The sword of Gryffindor has been missing for centuries and was probably one of the finest crafted weapons in their entire history."

"If they think the sword belongs to them, why are you wearing it?" Neville asked.

"That would be Dumbledore's fault," Amelia muttered. "It took a little fast talking because at first they were almost pissed, especially when Harry showed them that he actually had the sword there with him. We explained how, after Harry woke up, Dumbledore said that the sword rightfully belonged to Harry. Apparently there's some really old magic tied into that sword. Magic so old that even the goblins have forgotten how to do it.

"The sword is tied to the Gryffindor line. As Harry is a descendant of Gryffindor's, it is one of the few times when ownership supersedes the goblins usual beliefs. By him pulling the sword from the hat, then _using_ the sword, followed by the current Headmaster of the school acknowledging Harry's right to the weapon, it has tied itself to him."

"And what does that mean?" Susan asked.

"Well, according to Griphook, it means that I can't escape the damn thing," Harry grumbled which had most of them chuckling at his irritation. "It's not funny! It's hard to walk or sit down with this things strapped to my waist," he complained, shifting the sword where it hung along the side of the chair he was sitting in. "It's really annoying."

"What it means," Amelia cut in, ending Harry's whining, "is that Harry really can't get away from the sword. He could leave it in his trunk, for example, but as soon as he gets physically far enough away from it, or maybe after a certain amount of time, that part is a little unclear, the sword will simply come to him, wherever he is."

"So that's why it just appeared on the counter at Ollivander's? It… what… decided that its owner was too far away?" Neville asked, doing his best to hide a smirk at his friend's plight while Harry was fiddling with the sword, trying to get it to hang more comfortably.

"Well, the sword doesn't decide, magic does. But… essentially correct," Amelia admitted with a shrug.

Harry gave out a frustrated growl and seemed to give up on the sword, for the moment, before he turned his attention to the rest of them. "Anyway," he grumbled. "It took a while to get everyone settled down but we landed on a few things. They're going to show the memory to Ragnok and in the first couple of weeks this summer they want us," he glanced at Daphne, "to come in and meet with them. Everyone else is invited as well. During that time they'll have an offer for rendering the Basilisk down and we'll have to take care of that over the summer, apparently it won't start rotting that fast."

"Too magical," Susan offered. "There's so much magic in it that it'd take years before it even starts to decay."

"Right, that's what they said about it. They also pointed out that goblin made weapons take on the properties of things they encounter that can make them stronger. Since I stabbed the Basilisk with this sword it's apparently now impregnated with the venom. Even a scratch from this thing would be deadly."

"And they expect you to just carry it around all the time?" Hermione asked, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth as she eyed the weapon.

"Not exactly, that's why they gave me the scabbard and sword belt. I _was_ walking around carrying it when it appeared at the shop because Dumbledore had it sitting in a case. This way the blade is at least covered so no one accidentally get's nicked by it."

"But what about school? You can't be walking around school with a weapon like that."

Harry shook his head at Hermione's question. "Actually, I can. It's apparently some old pureblood laws again, but in this case it works in our favor. A Lord of a Most Ancient and Noble House is allowed, by law, to wear a sword at all times. The way the law is written it doesn't specify that I have to be out of school. The law was written back in the 1200's or something when a lot of people routinely wore swords and that kind of combat was commonplace. Just because people don't tend to use swords these days doesn't mean the law was ever stricken from the books. It's still there, so legally no one can actually _stop_ me from wearing the sword.

"And as annoying as it's been already, I'd rather wear the bloody thing all the time then leave it somewhere."

"What does that matter? Even if you leave it someplace it'll just come to you, right?"

"Yeah, Neville, it will. _But_ while it is sitting where I leave it, someone else could pick it up and possibly hurt someone with it. And when it does come to me, it won't just appear belted around my waist. It'll be sitting nearby, like it did at Ollivander's. If I don't happen to see it there, again, someone else could come along and pick it up. At least with it on my waist I keep anyone else from getting hurt or using it to hurt someone else."

Neville and Hermione nodded and Daphne leaned forward in her seat near the foot of Neville's bed. "So, is that why the sorting hat wanted you to check in with the goblins in the first place? It knew what was going to happen with the sword?"

Harry shrugged. "No idea if it knew about the sword. No, it looks like I'm going to have some other trouble in the future that they might be able to help me with. I hope."

He held his right hand out in front of him, concentrating carefully for a moment before he quietly intoned, 'lumos', and the rest of them, minus Amelia, sucked in a breath as a small orb of white light appeared, floating above Harry's upturned palm.

"This is most likely why the hat suggested I check in with them," he said, letting them all stare at the light for a few moments before he made a fist, snuffing it out. "I can't use a wand anymore. Not a real one. And I can't use wand movements when casting a spell without a wand either. I mean, what do I point a finger and trace it in a wand movement?" He shrugged. "No idea, honestly. But we've all seen goblins do magic without a wand. They don't need them for their magic. Sharpshard figures that they might be able to help teach me how to cast spells this way. Right now, all I seem to be able to do is a lumos, nox, and a couple of small other things that don't really require a wand movement. Right now everything else I've tried hasn't worked and I'm not really sure how to go about it."

"What about your exams?" Hermione blurted out in horror.

Harry and the other two girls smiled at the expected reaction.

"Amy is going to talk to Dumbledore and explain the situation. I do have a wand blank that I can cast through," he added as he flicked his wrist, letting the piece of holly shoot into his hand. "Right now, the general idea is to let me do my written exams as normal, but during the practicals we're going to have to change things up because I can't use this thing for every spell, it'll burn up too fast. With any luck, the wand classes will take into account my performance over the year and grade me on a curve to take into account my sudden… handicap."

By the time they exhausted all avenues of discussion it was well and truly into the evening, just minutes before dinner was being served in the Great Hall. With Poppy's blessing, the entire group trooped their way downstairs for dinner, Harry, Hermione, and Neville under strict orders to return immediately if they felt unwell in any way whatsoever.

There were even more whispers and stares than usual as they knew that by now the Hogwarts Rumor mill had been running for over a week, nearly unchecked, and the sword strapped to Harry's waist did little to dampen the rapidly spreading murmurs of conversation that rippled through the hall like a wave.

They took seats at the Hufflepuff table that night, confident the Puff's would be the least likely to completely hammer them with questions and demands for information, and they were right. Cedric sat near them and after enquiring after, and receiving confirmation that they were all healthy and feeling well, directed the conversation around the table in safe directions. The fifth year had made Prefect that year, and after the little time he'd gotten to know them the previous year, especially after Harry's heartfelt apology to the entirety of the House, he felt more than a little loyalty to the group as a whole. He made damn sure that the rest of his House towed that line and didn't pester the four bond mates and their friend.

That night, after Harry had been, reluctantly, urged to go to bed by his bond mates, the three girls found themselves in the shared dormitory showers for the second year girls as Hermione finally got the chance to carefully inspect the new scars that now decorated their bodies.

She stood in front of the mirrors, after they'd felt Harry finally fall asleep, wearing only her uniform skirt and bra and studied the scars in the mirror. She raised her hand, dispelling the glamour taught to them by Madam Pomfrey and carefully inspected the many new scars that dotted her hand, wrist, and forearm as a deep melancholy filled her. Before she knew it both Daphne and Susan had the half dressed girl wrapped into a careful, comforting embrace as even more tears than she'd already shed that day prickled at her eyes.

"One-hundred and eighty-seven," she muttered, crying almost silently in the arms of the two girls.

"What was that?" Susan asked as gently as she could, trying to push as many comforting emotions as possible across their bond toward the girl wrapped between them.

"One-hundred and eighty-seven," Hermione repeated. "Every morning at home, and even here, when I have time, I count the scars. Since before we started there were one-hundred and forty-eight scars that we shared with him. With these… now there's one-hundred and eighty-seven."

The three girls clung to each other, feeling sorry for themselves, sorry for their bond mate and everything he'd suffered over the years. But, in the end, there is only so much time one can spend feeling sorry. Eventually, they pulled themselves together and dressed for bed, each in pajamas with long legs and sleeves, and together they made their way to Hermione's bed where they slid under the covers and laid down to sleep.

Hermione lay awake long after Susan and Daphne had already drifted off. She lay in the center, with Susan cuddled in close behind her, the red heads arm wrapped, almost possessively, around her waist, holding her tightly, while Daphne lay on her right side, facing the bushy haired witch in the middle.

Her mind wouldn't let her rest, struggling with something. Something just beyond her conscious ability to remember. In the dim light her eyes traced the lines and curves of Daphne's face, relaxed in her slumber, and something, something important seemed to be nagging at her.

She just couldn't remember what it was.

The last month of the school year passed in a blur for the five of them. The day after the petrified victims were woken they'd been called back into Madam Pomfrey's kingdom and she'd run her scans over the bond mates. All four of them showed the same glowing tendrils or veins of light extending out from their chests, a dizzying, mesmerizing tangle of gold, silver, green, and auburn. The four of them were beyond relief that they were all on an even keel once again, and it was only further proof that when, and if, their relationships grew again in the future, no one would be left behind.

Two weeks later, Poppy informed them that the venom and tears, both, had worked their way out of Harry's system, however the feather remained fused into his forearm, meaning that he found himself struggling in the practical portions of his classes. He made do, however, with the wand blank that he had and was able to get through each class with a minimum of fuss. Extending his knowledge to casting spells without a wand, however, was not going well, and was no little source of frustration for the young Lord of House Potter.

Classes ran as always. Study sessions continued in the library with their friends and the five of them continued to wake up early every morning to train, only now, their training held a greater focus than it ever had.

It'd stopped being practice and became preparation for the future, and whatever else life or fate might decide to throw at them. The girls, in particular, attacked a more severe training schedule with a vim and verve that almost scared Harry and Neville the first time they saw it. They even started joining the boys in the physical training they'd mostly avoided in favor of spell practice. As a result, they'd insisted on adding an hour of spell practice in the evenings to make up for the hour lost on physical fitness.

Exams flew by in a blink, and before any of them realized it, they found themselves on the Express returning to Kings Cross, another year behind them. The trip was spent relaxing from both stress of their exams, and as a break from the constant pushing the girls had been doing in their extracurricular practice. Neville had nearly sworn another oath when they'd explained the prophecy to him and Hermione and how Neville might have been the one mentioned, but Harry pointed out what they had was already more than enough and he trusted the other boy to stand beside him when it mattered.

Dumbledore had been unavailable for the entirety of the month, but not out of avoidance, he'd been dealing with the aftermath of the Chamber incident, attempting to coerce the Ministry into anticipating future threats even as he was soundly rebuffed by Cornelius Fudge. The Daily Prophet ran article after article decrying Dumbledore as a fear monger and mud slinger as Fudge stuck his head in the sand and refused to consider anything other than a remnant of Voldemort had been destroyed. Dumbledore promised that, when Harry and the Goblins came to the school during the summer to render the corpse of the Basilisk, he would make himself available to answer the further questions that Harry and Amelia were putting together.

Harry held out hope, but didn't really know what to expect so tried to temper it as much as he could. He would wait and see what the old wizard had to say for himself when the time came.

By the time they arrived at the station they were all tired, but excited to be home, and sad to be saying goodbye to their friends. Hermione eventually left through the barrier with her parents after numerous rib creaking hugs were handed out to Neville and her bond mates and even Amelia found herself on the receiving end of the girls infamous hugs before she promised that she would be over to visit as often as she could.

Neville was side-along apparated away by his gran, but not before he pulled Harry into a brotherly embrace, hugged the remaining girls, and Madam Longbottom herself had gravely thanked Harry for what he'd done in ridding the school of the Basilisk. Neville had held nothing back in his letter home to his gran about what'd happened. She spoke with Amelia before they left, securing Neville an open invite to come by and he promised that he would, as often as possible, to work with Harry and the girls over the summer as they decided they needed to push themselves more than ever.

Daphne was taken away by her mother and once again, Harry felt a sense of apprehension in the blond witch that he really didn't like, but could do nothing about at that particular point in time. He only hoped that Daphne would decide to open up to them sooner rather than later about whatever it was that was bothering her.

By the time Susan, Harry, and Amelia made their way to the Boneyard, night was falling, and Binky had a light dinner waiting for them. They ate quietly, discussing their classes and Harry's difficult in getting his magic to work without the use of a focus. There were more than a few humorous stories told about one mishap or another in regards to his efforts at magic since the Chamber that had Amelia nearly double over in laughter at the table, her deep blue eyes shining with mirth and tears rolling down her cheeks.

Eventually, dinner ended and the three made their way deeper into the house. The kids going to their rooms while Amelia herself went to her study to catch up on some parchment work that'd been waiting for her attention. She looked up, surprised, when a timid sounding knock at the door reached her ears to find Harry standing in the door way, a book and several pieces of parchment tucked under one arm as his other hand rested against the open door.

"Harry?" she asked. "Something wrong?" She motioned for him to enter the room and he stepped inside, looking around curiously as he'd never been in Amelia's private study before. It was always off limits unless one was invited in by the Lady of the House, and he'd made damn certain to obey all the rules whenever he could at his new home.

"I'm not honestly sure," he said, frowning as he walked in and sat in a comfortable wooden chair situated in front of the desk. He took the book out from under his arm and set it on the desk before placing the parchment on top. Just before the cover of the book was blocked Amelia was able to note a large number seven stamped into the deep red cover of what was obviously a journal of some kind.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked, leaning back in her chair as his, still glowing eyes remained fixed on the items he'd placed on her desk.

"This journal," he said, tapping the book with one finger as his eyes flicked up toward her, "belonged to my mother. She wrote in this book during her seventh year at Hogwarts. And these are letters from both my mum and dad," he added, moving his hand to the folded stack of parchment sitting on top of the journal.

"Did you have a question about something they wrote?" Amelia asked, starting to feel more than a little concerned over the expression on Harry's face. It was a dark, possibly painful emotion behind his eyes and expression, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.

"Only one, really. At the moment at least," he added, his lips quirking into a small grin for a moment before it faded away and he fixed her with an intense stare, his eyes glowing brighter and brighter every moment.

"What can you tell me about Sirius Black?"

 **So Ends Part Two of**

 **Soul Scars: Darkness Within**

 **Next:**

 **Part Three**

 **Soul Scars:**

 **The Greengrass Problem**


	30. Part Three: Black, Hidden Memories

**Authors Note's: Rotten Writer here again with a quick start to year three of our little adventure.**

 **This is mostly some prep work, setting up the beginning of what's going to be happening in the upcoming year and showing where things are going sideways in a few areas. Next chapter should be considerably longer as well because I'll have a lot more to go over and secrets start to come unraveled.**

 **I've been listening to you guys, honestly I have. I originally planned for Harry to discover the scars, accidentally, in fourth year, somewhere between the first task of the Tournament and the Yule Ball. There was a reason for that because of the particular way the scene played out in my head, I needed them to be older for it. Well, I'm not going to make Rowlings' mistake of sticking to my original plan even though it's clear that plan is no longer viable.**

 **So, here's hoping everyone enjoys this little beginning peak into third year. I don't want to drag the summer months on needlessly so I'm going to try to knock everything together in the next two or three chapters, at most. *fingers crossed* They'll probably end up being pretty long chapters because of that but I doubt any of you guys will be complaining too much.**

 **Disclaimer: I still own nothing Harry Potter. Thank you.**

 **Here we go with Chapter 29 of Soul Scars!**

Soul Scars Part Three

The Greengrass Problem

by,

Rtnwriter

"No! For the last time there is no way that I am going to let you incite a panic with these ridiculous, and baseless, accusations. If I hear even a whisper that you're trying anything, I'll have you bounced out of here so fast that your head'll spin! Now get out of my office!"

The door slammed shut behind her as Amelia Bones left the office of the Minister of Magic, growling angrily and muttering a constant litany of violent threats under her breath. As she passed through the Auror bullpen, Junior, Senior, and Master Aurors alike hurried to clear a path for her, each of them making damn sure that they didn't make eye contact with her on her way by.

In the three years since she'd taken over as Director of the DMLE, the Aurors under her command had only seen her so furious a handful of times, and each time it had been because someone was interfering with her actually _doing_ her job.

When she stormed into the outer office she barked at her secretary without slowing down as she passed. "Carol, if anyone tried to interrupt me someone had better be dead or they'll find their arse stuck with a six month tour of guard duty at Azkaban," she snapped irritably and stormed into her office, slamming the door shut behind her.

She dropped heavily into the chair behind her desk and set her elbows down on the wooden surface, her head coming to rest in her upturned palms while she resisted the urge to yank at her own hair in frustration.

"Siruis Orion Black," she muttered, her mind casting back to the night a week and a half ago when Harry came into her study with a simple, and impossibly complex, question.

" _What can you tell me about Sirius Black?"_

#####

Amelia reeled back in her chair, her eyes widening to nearly comical level as her mind processed, probably, the last question she expected him to ask. _Well… maybe not the_ last _question,_ she thought. _If he's got his mothers journals, the name would have come up more than a few times, I'd imagine._

"Sirius… Sirius was one of your fathers best friends while they were at school. Them and two other boys."

"Lupin and Pettigrew?" Harry prompted, leaning forward eagerly in his seat and she nodded, a sad smile on her lips.

"Yes. I was two years ahead of them and in Hufflepuff while they were all Gryffindors. I didn't know them, really, not until after they graduated and the war was at its height…" She shrugged somewhat at a loss. "I'm not exactly sure what it is you want to know," she admitted. "Sirius… he was charming, and handsome, and always seemed more like a big kid in a newly grownup mans body than anything else."

"Sounds like the Weasley twins."

"From what I saw of them last summer, yes, the twins do seem to be taking after your father and his friends," she muttered.

Harry frowned, staring at the journal and the letters on the desk.

"From what I read, my parents went into hiding with me," he muttered, as if trying to muzzle out the answer to a mystery. "The vanished, sometime in July or August of that year and on Halloween night Black supposedly lead Voldemort to their house, giving him the Secret to the cottage's location in Godric's Hollow. Then a few days later he used a single curse on a busy street in the middle of London that caused an explosion, killing twelve muggles and their other friend, Pettigrew," he continued.

He fell silent for a minute, still staring at the items he'd placed on her desk before he finally blew out a breath and looked to her, an almost plaintive expression on his face.

"But that doesn't make sense," he complained.

"Harry, sometimes people aren't who we think they are."

"No," he shook his head. "No there's got to be more to it than that. In everything they ever wrote there was so much about how they trusted Sirius. How loyal he was and how faithfully he stood with them through everything. They wrote concerns about Remus Lupin and they were worried sometimes about Pettigrew, always described him as weak and cowardly, never understood how he got into Gryffindor."

Amelia schooled her expression as well as she could, trying to keep the pain she felt in her chest off her face. "He fooled everyone. The House of Black were just as dark as their namesake and everyone thought that he was different from the rest of his family. Narcissa Black married Lucius Malfoy, and Bellatrix Black became Bellatrix Lestrange," she told him. "Regulus Black was a Death Eater in his own right as well but he vanished not too long before the end of the war, no one knows what happened to him but it was rumored that Voldemort himself killed him. Sirius always acted as if he hated his family and everything they stood for, but it turned out to all be a lie, a role he was playing."

"I guess," he said with a sigh. "I just can't understand how he would have gotten past the Oaths."

He started to stand, reaching for the book and the letters when Amelia's hand landed on top of them, stopping him and he looked up at her, startled to see an intense, scrutinizing look in her gaze.

" _What_ Oaths?" she demanded.

Harry leaned back away from her, a little uncomfortable with her penetrating gaze leveled at him but dutifully answered the question anyway. "The Godfather Oaths." He tugged the letters out from under her hand and flipped the folded stack open, shuffling through the half dozen pages until he found the one he was looking for which he held out to her. "In one of the last letters they left before going into hiding my dad wrote that they'd asked Sirius to be my Godfather and said something about Oaths that he'd need to swear on his life and magic…" He trailed off and shrugged. "I don't really know what it all means but it's all been bugging me for while now, ever since I read the letters.

"I would have asked sooner but… well there were other things going on that were on my mind."

Amelia didn't even crack a smirk at that, her eyes fixed on the parchment in her hands, gaze flitting back and forth rapidly as she read over the neat, elegant script that covered the page.

"The sworn Oaths of a Godparent are a magically binding contract, of a sort. The Godparent couldn't ever intentionally do anything to harm you and swears to care for and raise their godchild in the even that anything happens to the parents," she muttered, almost distracted as she continued reading. "Usually these things are registered with the Ministry but it's not required… If they did swear the Oaths, then there's no way that Sirius could have betrayed the Potters. He'd have been dead before he could have finished telling Voldemort the Secret…"

"Then he might be innocent?" Harry asked but his sudden excitement fell away at the pensive frown that still marred her features.

"I don't know, Harry. We can't say that for sure."

"But they said-"

"I understand what your parents wrote to you, but that isn't evidence." An investigators mind is trained to be observant, to notice details and make connections that others might miss and at that moment Amelia's mind had become a whirlwind of thoughts and memories as she looked at everything she could remember from those days through the filter of this new information.

"It's not that simple, I'm afraid," she finally admitted. "We don't know for sure that they ever took the Oaths. If they didn't he could have still been the one to betray them."

"Yeah, but-"

"If they did," she continued, talking over him, "then he probably didn't betray your parents, but there is still the matter of the murder of Pettigrew and those twelve muggles."

Harry sagged in his seat at that, and she tried to give him a reassuring look.

"Harry, let me borrow these for a bit, okay?" she asked, placing her hand back on the journal and the letters. "I'll look through what I can and see what I can kick loose, sound good?"

"Okay," he muttered, looking less than pleased about the whole thing.

She considered him for a moment, absently pinching her lower lip between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand, a habit she knew her niece had learned from her, as she thought.

"Harry, what were you hoping to achieve here?" she asked and he blinked a few times in surprise before he thought about the question.

"I don't know, really," he admitted. "Just, what I was reading didn't seem to match the official story. I guess… I guess I just wanted answers."

#####

Amelia sat up at her desk, calmer after her trip fown memory lane, and pulled two single sheets of parchment from a magically locked drawer in her desk. Setting both sheets on the top of the desk she lifted her wand and tapped her badge, once.

"Carol? Please send Senior Auror Shacklebolt and Auror Cadet Tonks into my office, won't you?"

She tapped the badge a second time without waiting for a response and then started working her way through the ever present 'In-box' on her desk while she waited. Ten minutes later, she set aside her work when a knock came at her door and she called out, "Come."

The door was pulled open and Shack led the way in, still as impressive a figure as ever with his tall stature and broad frame, his gold hoop earing glimmer in the light where it hung from his left ear. Behind him came Tonks, shorter and far more slender by a large margin than her training partner, she had shocking electric blue hair spiked up on her head that morning. Silently, the two stood at attention in front of her desk and waited for her to acknowledge them.

"I have come across a… mystery," she said after five minutes of silence ticked by them. "I need the two of you to help me solve it, but before I can tell you anything about it I am going to need a magical oath of silence on the matter." She ignored how both of them started in surprise at that and kept talking. "If either of you aren't interested, you are welcome to leave with no penalties, no concerns, and I won't think less of either one of you. I'm asking for quite a leap of faith here and I understand that may not be something you're comfortable doing."

"Just tell me what you want the Oath to state, Amy," Shack growled out in a low tone. "I know you well enough that this has gotta be big so let's get on with it."

"Not gonna scare me off that easy, Boss," Tonks piped up with a grin spreading across her lips.

Without a word Amelia took a scrap of parchment in hand and held it out to them, letting go once Shack had a grip of it and he stepped back beside Tonks so they could both read over the Oath for themselves. Drawing their wands, almost in unison they both spoke the Oath and twin flares of light flashed out as it took effect.

"Take a seat you two… and, thank you," Amelia said as she pointed to the chairs in front of her desk. Once the two were seated she handed over the two sheets of parchment she'd earlier pulled from her desk, one to each of them and waited while they read through the information she'd transcribed from both Lily Potter's journal and the letters written by her and her husband.

"Fudge has got to be having kneazles over this," Kingsley muttered after he finished reading.

"Blimey…"

A tone in Tonks' voice caught Amelia's attention and she looked over to see the Cadet's eyes had widened to truly inhuman levels as a result of her Metamorphmagus abilities and she looked as pale as a ghost on top of it.

"Cadet? Is there a problem?"

"N-no, Ma'am, no problem, really. Just… Sirius is my cousin, Boss. Are you sure you want me involved with this?"

"That is precisely why I requested you," Amelia assured the younger woman. "Well, that and your abilities should be really useful for some of what I want you two to do."

The two of them sat up straighter in their seats and focused their attention on her as Tonks corrected her appearance with a brief application of focus and will.

"We need as much information as we can get for this. The problem is, Fudge has expressly forbidden me from looking into the case. Even a hint gets back to him that someone, anyone, is looking into Sirius Black and it'll be my arse in a sling, do you understand me?"

They both nodded and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk in front of her with her hands clasped together as she switched her gaze back and forth from one to the other.

"This is your last chance to back out, either of you. Your Oath will prevent you from speaking about it, but if you continue after this you can't decide later that you don't want to be involved anymore."

"I already said you're not going to get rid of me that easily, Boss," Tonks told her in an even tone, her face set in a hard expression. "Sirius was my favorite relative when I was growing up. I still remember him and my parents and I have never believed he betrayed the Potters. If there's something hinky going on, I want to know about it."

Amelia looked to Kingsley who merely arched a brow at her, saying nothing and giving nothing away. She smirked, acknowledging the silent message with a nod.

"All right, here's what I need you two to do…"

#####

"How long has he been like this?"

"At least… two hours? Off and on?"

"And there's been…"

"Not that I've seen."

"What's he even trying to do?"

"I have no idea, honestly."

"You do know I _can_ hear you three, right?" Harry growled irritably, lowering his arm and turning to face the girls were they were sitting on the low wall that ran around the back patio at Bones Manor.

"Yes, we know, Harry," Daphne said, smiling brightly at him while Susan gave him a jaunty little wave with one hand and Hermione simply grinned silently.

"Harry, maybe you should try something different?" Hermione offered. "I mean, two hours trying to glare a target to death hasn't produced any results, it might be time to switch things up."

Harry sighed and walked over to sit on the grass with his back against the wall between Susan and Daphne. "It's just frustrating," he grumbled. "I _know_ I should be able to do these spells but I just can't figure it out. Just saying the incantation isn't helping and wand movements don't do me any good without a wand. It's been over a month and a half now." He gave out a frustrated growl and crossed his arms over his chest, his legs stretched out in front of him as he glared at the target he'd set up in the back yard.

"The goblins keep telling me that magic is all about will and intent. The incantation and the wand movements really aren't necessary in the end for most magic."

"Incantless casting?" Daphne asked. "We don't start learning that until sixth year."

"Right, but it highlights the point the goblins were making. We don't _have_ to use incantations to cast spells. It's not required, but it's the easiest way to learn, so that's why we start out with that. The spell movement and the incantation are really more to focus our will and our intent. I _should_ be able to just push with my magic and if my focus is strong enough and my intent clear then the magic will do the rest, but so far I haven't been able to get that to work. I can do a few small charms with the incantation, but not much."

"I was looking ahead through the curriculum. Post NEWTs has people learning point casting where people minimize or even do away with wand movements entirely. Silent casting is three years beyond were we are right now too. Maybe you should stop worrying about doing both at once?"

Harry tilted his head back and glanced at Hermione who was sitting on Daphne's other side with one eyebrow arched in her direction.

"Well you're trying to do both silent and point casting at the same time here, technically, right? For the last hour it seems like you've given up even trying to use the incantation."

Harry blinked in surprise at that. He hadn't realized he'd stopped vocalizing the spells.

"Point casting is supposed to be even harder than silent casting but you don't really have a choice in the matter with that, you _have_ to point cast. So why not focus on trying with the incantation, at least, until you get the hang of doing magic without a wand?" she said defending her position.

Harry thought carefully about that, idly twirling a blade of grass between the scarred fingers of his right hand as his mind worked over the problem, adding Hermione's observations to what he already knew. Her emphasis on focus reverberated in his mind as well and he found himself thinking, repeatedly, _Focus, will, intent._

Five times he had been to see the goblins over the last two and a half weeks since school let out and they returned home for the summer. Five times he had spent no less than six hours working with a goblin teacher, Gorbage, to try to learn how to use his magic without a wand to focus it.

The problem was, goblins utilized their magic in a way that was completely different from how humans used magic. Yes, technically goblins didn't need a wand, but their method did not translate into something that he could use.

He dropped the piece of grass that he was holding and lifted his arm with his palm pointed toward the target. Focusing his thoughts on what he wanted to do, he calmly intoned, "Diffindo."

Nothing happened, but that time he'd been paying closer attention than he had during his previous, more frustrated efforts. He'd felt a tug at the well of power that he always drew from and suddenly had a near overwhelming urge to slap himself silly for missing the obvious.

"That's okay, Harry," Hermione tried to reassure him as he slowly rose to his feet and stepped closer to the human shaped target. "I'm sure if you just keep practicing you'll-"

" _Diffindo!_ " he barked out and almost immediately fell back on his arse when a foot wide, blue, translucent scythe of energy erupted erupted from his hand and arced through the air with a sizzling hiss. It struck the target at what would have been waist height on a person and a loud crack sounded as the top half of the dummy flew off and fell to the ground with a soft thump.

Somewhere in the background, a chime sounded through the house, but none of them moved, all four staring in open shock at what he'd just done.

"Morning, guys," Neville's voice came from the doorway leading into the house. He paused when he received no reaction from them and took in the shocked expressions on their faces and then Harry's position sprawled out on the grass. "Okay," he said with a resigned sounding sigh. "What'd Harry do this time?"

"Oi!"

The girls broke out into a fit of giggles at Harry's outraged cry and Neville simply shrugged at his friend. "Hey, you can't deny it's usually you that causes that reaction in people, Harry."

Harry grumbled under his breath while Susan, Daphne, and Hermione stood to greet Neville, each hugging him in turn. By the time Harry had his feet under him, Neville had made his way over and pulled the other boy into a brotherly embrace, the two of them slapping each other on the back a couple of times before separating.

"So? What'd you do?" he asked and Harry snorted out a laugh.

"Had a bit of a wandless breakthrough."

Turning, Harry held out his hand and the barely visible light in his eyes increased dramatically for a moment before he said, "accio sword." An instant later, the Sword of Gryffindor rose into the air from where it had been leaning against the stone wall and flew into his open hand.

Neville grinned widely and clapped at the display. "How did you finally figure it out?" he asked while Harry belted the sword around his waist and they all made their way over to sit at one of the larger patio tables where Binky had already set out tea, coffee, and butter beer.

"Well," Harry said, thoughtfully as they all sat and selected whatever drink they wanted. "I was thinking about it in the wrong way. It was something Hermione said, actually, that made me consider it."

"Me?" Hermione asked, surprised. "I didn't think anything I mentioned was really all that helpful. Other than continuing to use the incantation in order to focus your intent on the spell."

"And that was it. I'd forgotten that focus is one of the key components in performing magic. When you mentioned that, it made me think. People refer to wands as a focus. The wand helps to focus and direct our magic in a single direction. I think that, without a wand, the energy I'm trying to use gets scattered." He was frowning as he talked, trying to put his thoughts into an understandable narrative. Of all of them, Harry had a singular talent for intuitive leaps of logic that, on the surface, made little to no sense, but in the end turned out to be correct more often than not.

He ran the tips of the fingers of his left hand over the scars that covered his right hand. "Since the Chamber… well, I haven't really wanted to pull too hard on my magic, I think I've been nervous about overpowering something."

"Wand blowing up in your hand'll do that to a person," Neville muttered and Harry nodded.

"Yeah, well, anyway I was thinking about how wands are supposed to focus our power, like I said, and since I don't have a focus, I suddenly thought, maybe the power I was putting into my spell attempts wasn't enough? Maybe there wasn't enough being directed at what I needed to do. So this last time I pushed a lot more power into the spell than I would normally do. End result, the spell finally worked, and only a little more powerfully than a casual cast with my wand from before would have been."

Hermione, Neville, and Susan all considered that thoughtfully, but Daphne seemed more concerned than anything.

"I see that bringing up two new problems, Harry," she pointed out and he and the other girls both nodded.

"Someone want to fill me in?" neville asked.

"You're made a conscious effort to pull on your magic before, right, Nev?" Susan asked and he nodded.

"Took a little time, didn't it?"

Neville grimaced. "I see. That'll slow your casting speed down unless you can work on your control. Pulling up power that way needs to be quick as thought for it to be effective."

"Got it in one, Neville," Harry muttered, tilting the neck of his bottle of butter beer toward his friend in a silent salute. "Problem number two boils down to power. I appear to need to overpower a spell in order to get it to work even at an average level."

"Without a focus, it looks like wantless magic is wasteful. I won't be able to cast nearly as much as I used to before I'd be exhausted."

"Do you think that's something you'll be able to work on in time as well?" Susan asked, idly playing with the handle of her tea cup as she considered the situation.

Harry shrugged. "I haven't the foggiest. Only managed the two spells so far with a few minor exceptions so I can't begin to tell."

"It's a good thing you're so strong already," Daphne pointed out. "If we keep training we'll all just keep getting stronger, building up our magical muscles, so to speak. It'll be even more important for you, though."

"We can all put our heads together, too, and try to see if we can come up with some ways to increase your speed," Hermione added, already scribbling some thoughts down on a notepad she'd pulled from her pocket.

Without looking, Daphne reached over and placed her hand on top of Hermione's. "Hermione?" she said. "We have already finished all our summer work. Harry promised last week that he would take a break once he got at least one good spell working. You're not going to start a brain storming session now."

"But-"

"No," Susan cut in. "You need to learn to take more time to relax, too."

Hermione pouted, half-heartedly protesting as Daphne gently tugged the notepad out from under her hand, which had the rest of them chuckling quietly at her.

"But it's all just so fascinating!" she blurted out. "If the energy is diffused through lack of a focus, where does the excess go? Is there a specific ratio of power to make a spell work? Is it only because Harry has that feather in his arm or could anyone learn how to do it the same way?"

Susan scooted her chair closer while the other girl was talking and wrapped one arm around her shoulders even while she lifted her other hand and placed a finger over Hermione's lips, silencing her in mid rant.

"It is fascinating," Susan agreed. "But we're not spending the whole summer on studies. We're going to have some fun as well."

Hermione glared at the red head beside her but just huffed and sank back in her seat, arms crossed over her breasts.

"Why don't we all go see a movie?" Neville suggested. "I've wanted to do that again since the few we went and saw last summer."

A chorus of agreements met that suggestion and four eager faces turned toward Hermione. With all three of her bond mates, and Neville, giving her the same look, even Hermione's insatiable desire to learn was unable to stand up to the combined assault.

"Fine!" she gave in with a huff as the others cheered. Ten minutes later, they'd gathered together their belongings, placed a notice-me-not on Harry's sword, and were making their way through the Floo to the Granger Residence.

#####

Lost.

She was lost in a sea of pain and darkness.

She couldn't tell up from down, left from right, or front from back as waves of pain washed over her in an unending torrent.

" _And th…"_

Time did not exist. It could have been seconds or eons and she would have had no way of knowing. She floated, buffeted about by eddies and currents or mind numbing agony.

"… _My true…"_

What is it? Who is it? Where am I?

She could barely think, trapped in an endless prison that she couldn't even sense, much less attempt to escape.

" _And that is my true fear."_

Daphne!

#####

"Daphne!"

Hermione screamed and shot up to a sitting position in her bed, staring sightlessly at the dimly lit familiarity that was her bedroom at home. Before she knew it, arms wrapped around her and she recognized the presence, even if she didn't really _see_ the person. As she collapsed bonelessly into her mothers arms, the tears began to flow.

Emma Granger held her daughter, a constant stream of soothing words and noises pouring from her mouth as she gently stroked the girls hair and rubbed small circles on her back. A flicker of movement caught her eye and she glanced up at Dan where he stood, uncertainly in the doorway. She could sympathize with how he felt. One thing about Hermione was that, while her parents had held her through many a bout of tears over the years, she had never once woken up, screaming in the middle of the night due to nightmares.

That night marked the tenth time in two and a half weeks that she'd woken with a certain blond girls name on her lips only to collapse into uncontrollable sobs moments later. A chime echoed through the hall outside and Dan glanced over his shoulder for a moment before turning back only for Emma to wave him away to check on the sound.

In their guest bedroom he found a green fire crackling in the fireplace and an easily recognizable face floating within the flames.

"Amelia?" he asked, only slightly surprised to see the woman in the fire. "Is something wrong?"

"I was just going to ask you that, Dan," Amelia Bones admitted, her voice just a little rough and her hair mussed and disheveled. "About ten minutes ago Harry and Susan woke me up, saying something about Hermione and about five minutes ago Daphne came through the Floo over here, also worried. Is everything okay on your end?"

Dan sighed and sank into a small armchair they'd purchased and placed in the room specifically for that purpose. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees with his hands clasped tightly in front of him.

"Hermione woke up a little while ago, maybe ten or twelve minutes if I had to guess, she was screaming her head off. Emma is in their trying to comfort her right now but she's just been crying, pretty hysterically and hasn't actually said anything yet."

"One second…" Amelia's head disappeared from the fire and Dan waited as patiently as he could, staring into the emerald flames until Amelia's face suddenly reappeared. "That fits with what the others are saying. They didn't share the dream with her like they apparently sometimes do, but all three of them are saying that something from Hermione woke them each from a dead sleep."

"Is there anything we can do?" Dan asked, still feeling out to see in regards to the goings on around his daughter. Amelia had gone above and beyond, making sure they were as informed as possible and inviting them over frequently for dinners at the Boneyard to help them keep I touch with the world their daughter lived in. But when he was confronted with a situation like this, where nothing in his experience could help him, he just didn't know what to do.

"I think her bond mates might be able to help calm her easier, but I'm not sure about saddling you with three more kids to keep an eye on this evening."

Dan frowned, thinking about that. They really didn't have the room to put up three more people overnight but…

"What about if just Daphne comes over?" he asked. "It's her name that Hermione screams every night that she wakes up, maybe she'd be the best choice?"

Amelia's head ducked out of the fire again and after a few seconds a new face appeared in the flames.

A few seconds later the fire flared brightly and Daphne stepped lightly through into the room, which caused Dan to smirk, just slightly.

"Is Harry ever going to figure out how to do that as easily as you and the rest do?" he asked, thinking of the last time he'd seen Harry use the Floo and saw the boy come tumbling out and he slid across the room one his back.

Daphne quirked a small smile. "Magically, Harry is much more powerful than we are, he also still hasn't gotten a handle on controlling or regulating that power, so, until he does Floo travel will always be a bit of an adventure for him.

He nodded, not entirely understanding, but accepting the explanation as it was and led the way out of the room and down the hall to his daughter's bedroom where they found her still wrapped in her mothers arms, still sobbing uncontrollably.

Dan barely noticed when the slender wisp of a girl brushed past him and made her way around the bed, climbing in from the other side. She didn't say anything, but Hermione seemed to sense her presence the moment she entered the room and he watched as Daphne gently coaxed her away from Emma and into her own arms. Hermione clung to Daphne like a sailor at sea clutching onto a piece of wreckage as the only thing keeping her afloat.

Emma came to stand beside him and they watched the girls for a few moments before, at his wife's urging, they left the room, letting Daphne get on with the process of comforting their daughter.

"You know," he mumbled into the dark some minutes later after they'd returned to their own bed and Emma had cuddled up against his side, his arm wrapped carefully around her, "it's something every father knows they're going to have to do one day. A lesson that we all know we're going to be faced with. That day when we learn that we're no longer the most important man in our little girl's life." He let out a long sigh somewhere between resigned and despondent. "I just didn't realize how soon it was going to happen, or that it wouldn't just be a boy replacing me, but two girls on top of that."

"You know damn well they're not at that point, yet," Emma whispered.

"Maybe not as far as a romantic relationship goes. But even as friends, you can't deny those three kids are the most important people in Hermione's life. Everything Amelia's told us. Everything they've gone through and experienced so far. Amelia's been amazing, keeping us up to date and helping us with all this magic stuff but… I don't know, I still can't help feeling like she's going someplace we can't follow. We _can't_ be a part of her life the way we used to be."

"We're her parents, Dan," she told him after a minute of contemplative silence. "That was going to happen, no matter what, even if she wasn't a witch, one day we wouldn't be as big a part of her life as we used to be. But she'll always be our daughter, and we'll always be there for her whenever and however she needs us to be."

He sighed again. "You know we did that to ourselves," he pointed out. "We always made sure to teach her to be independent and to be able to handle herself."

"And she's growing into a strong, and beautiful young woman."

He winced at that. "Please, don't say that. I still want to pretend she's my little princess for a while longer."

One hand lifted and she gently swatted his chest. "She will always be your little girl, Dan. Worrying about it will only give you ulcers. Just let it go and be ready to be there when she needs us."

He grumbled good naturedly for a minute before they settled down and within minutes her breath evened out even as her body relaxed more fully against him, seeming to mold itself against his broader, harder frame. Dan, however, remained awake for quite some time, his ears straining for any sign of distress from the room down the hall.

#####

Daphne half reclined in the bed, partially sitting up against the head with a now silent witch in her arms. Through the bond, and through their physical contact she could feel Hermione relaxing, letting go of whatever had upset her so much and as she did she felt the worry and unease from Harry and Susan bleed away as well until eventually their emotions became muted as they both dropped off to sleep.

Daphne was exhausted. Two and a half weeks back at home with her father frequently in attendance was less than restful. She got away as often as she could, preferring to avoid the man whenever possible but… in the little time she did spend at Greengrass Manor, she'd seen things. Seen enough to know that her father's patience was running out. She didn't understand the urgency. What she did hear, was that the Lady Zabini had struck some deal that sent him into a fury when he heard about it. Apparently something that'd happened while they were still at school and it involved Harry somehow, so of course Cyril blamed her entirely for not influencing him in some way.

She pushed the thoughts aside, clamping down on her Occlumency and returning her focus to the now relaxed girl in her arms. She had more than enough time to worry about her father and everything else later.

"Better?" she asked in a quiet whisper and Hermione nodded, her wild hair tickling Daphne's cheek as she moved. Hermione was laying against Daphne's right side, both of her arms wrapped tightly around the blond's waist as if she was a life sized teddy bear or something.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Hermione started to shake her head, but then she hesitated and slowly nodded. Daphne settled in, letting herself slide further down the bed until she was mostly laying flat with the other girl sprawled across her and kept both of her own arms wrapped around her, gently stroking her hair with one hand as she waited.

"I can't remember it," Hermione eventually whispered, breaking the silence that'd settled over them. "Every time I wake up I can't remember whatever I was dreaming, I just know that I _was_ dreaming, something. I always wake up, screaming for you, but I don't know why. I just always have this… ache… this pain deep in my chest. I can't explain it."

She lifted her head and looked up into Daphne's icy gaze.

"Ever since they revived me at school I feel like there's something about you I should know, something I should remember, but I just can't think of it."

"Can't be anything too important then," Daphne tried, schooling her face to remain as impassive as she possibly could. _There's no way she heard me,_ she thought, almost desperately. _Petrified victims aren't aware of their surroundings. It's like they're in a magically induced sleep_

Hermione shook her head, weakly. "No," she insisted. "It _is_ important. I know it is. I just… I can't remember."

Her voice was heavy, weary as her emotional outburst caught up with her and exhaustion began to set in.

"The ache in your chest, that sounds like what we felt when you were petrified and mostly cut off from us," Daphne tried. "Maybe you're remembering an echo of what you experienced during those weeks?"

Hermione considered that carefully even as the desire to sleep grew more pressing. "Maybe," she mumbled. "But… that doesn't explain why it's only ever you, never Harry or Susan…"

Hermione trailed off and before Daphne could even think to respond her breath deepened and her body went slack, relaxing fully against her bond mate as sleep overtook her. Daphne breathed out a quiet sigh of relief and selfishly hoped that the other girl wouldn't remember their conversation in the morning.

 _Mother is going to be insufferable when I tell her that she was right_ , she thought. _I really won't be able to keep all of this from them for much longer. And we still need to tell Harry about our scars. Merlin, he's going to be so upset…_

After a few more minutes spent thinking Daphne shook her head and decided it was time for her to head home. She gently attempted to lift Hermione's arm from where it was wrapped around her stomach but as soon as she tried the other girl whimpered in her sleep and her grip on the blond tightened. Daphne's lips turned up into a small, sad smile after she tried several different ways to escape only to find that Hermione fought back in her sleep each time, refusing to let go of her.

"Now, if only I could be sure you'd act like this while you were awake and knew how I felt about you, and Susan," she muttered after giving up on the idea of escaping and settled in as best she could to sleep. Secrets wouldn't keep for much longer and she resolved to enjoy what she could get for as long as possible, just in case things didn't go as well as her mother believed they would.

#####

Lord Greengrass stood, his broad frame filling the doorway as his cold eyes swept the room, taking in its empty state with barely a glance and cataloguing the information for the future. The chime of the Floo had woken him in the middle of the night and he knew immediately it had to have something to do with the disappointment that was his eldest daughter. His expression was hard, cold as he observed the room for a moment longer before he spun on his feel and stalked away, heading directly to the Lord's Office.

Greengrass Manor was an old ancestral home, older than the Malfoy's and nearly as old as the Potter's. Not that Lord Potter had visited any of the properties he'd inherited through his family. That much had been shown by the investigation he'd paid for into the young Lord.

That was of little concern to him, however. What concerned Cyril Greengrass was the wealth and power that he could command. Worse, more than anything was that little… _bitch's_ failure. Why couldn't she understand? Ever since she was so stupid as to let her emotions get the better of her… she owed him! She owed Lord Potter and if he ever got it into his head to collect he could single handedly destroy everything that Cyril had built.

She either needed to tie the brat down, or he needed to remove her from the equation.

Sitting at his desk he pulled out a handful of scrolls from the bottom most drawer after first disabling a lock, three traps, and one blood ward keyed to him. He carefully unrolled each scroll and laid them out on his desk side by side with the corner held down by small stones, ink bottles, and other various items he kept on hand for just such a purpose.

"Malfoy, Nott, Rowle, Travers, Yaxley, Selwyn…" He muttered to himself as he started reading through each of the contract offers, using one hand to trace the words with a single finger while with his other he made notes on each contract and what was being offered.

He would _not_ let some stupid little brat of a Lord destroy everything he had worked so hard to build. Not if he had anything at all to say about it. He did not return to sleep that night, instead working into the morning hours as his mood grew darker and darker.


	31. Summer Days

**Authors Note's: Hola, The Rotten Writer, here once again with another chapter of Soul Scars for you guys. I gotta say, I'm sorry gang. First and foremost this chapter gave me a lot of trouble, and honestly, I'm still not entirely thrilled with it. It just feels off to me and I don't like that but it's been over three weeks since my last update and that's annoying me even more. It really fought me tooth and nail and on top of the difficulty with the chapter itself, life just got away from me, as it happens. So apologies for the delay but here it is.**

 **It's a lot more setup stuff and I think I might actually skip ahead with the next chapter and jump right into the start of year three with the next one. Really the summer months where not as much happens give me the most trouble. At least during the year there's active stuff going on and that's easier to work with. There's not really a lot to be said about the chapter itself so I'll move us along without further ado.**

 **Disclaimer: Seriously, I still own nothing. Moving on.**

 **Here is chapter 30 of Soul Scars**.

Soul Scars Part Three:

The Greengrass Problem

by, Rtnwriter

There were few things in the first ten years of Harry's life that afforded him the opportunity for quiet, peaceful reflection. The hours, sometimes days, that he spent locked in his cupboard under the stairs were typically marked with pain and fear. Out of the cupboard, he had to be careful of what he said, what he did, how he moved or acted, just to avoid drawing attention to himself.

He could only remember two things from those years that ever gave him any peace. Number one was that quiet part of the day, just before dawn, that he'd told Susan about. Unfortunately, he was rarely able to truly enjoy those times while he still lived at the Dursley household.

The second thing was the Surrey Public Library. Dudley would never have been caught dead in a library, so it was a safe place for Harry to hide when Dudley and his friends were after a round of Harry Hunting. That safety alone made the place a wonder for him, but the books, the books opened his world to something beyond pain, fear, and hunger.

There, he found freedom, adventure, heroes and villains, friendship, and love. He found new knowledge and ideas. New ways to look at and think about the world around him. Not even discovering that magic was real and that he was a wizard could quite compare to the hours that he spent reading and just sitting quietly and thinking in that library.

Now, though, he had found something else that let him think, let him consider his life and what was happening in it.

He truly felt that the exercise routine that he'd started was a godsend and he made another mental note to thank Healer Gant for insisting on it. He was running five miles nearly every morning, followed by a series of body weight routine was so ingrained by that time that, while his body was active, he could let his mind wander.

Two days after his 'breakthrough' in regard to his wantless magic, progress was still slow, at best. He had found that just overpowering his spell attempts wasn't always good enough. In fact, it still, frequently, didn't work at all. Some curses and hexes worked just fine, while others did nothing. Simple charms were coming easier and easier but the more complex ones just fell apart and transfiguration was proving to be simply impossible.

He couldn't even do the first year matchstick into a needle!

He shook his head as he finished his run and took a drink of water before he stripped off his sweat soaked shirt and began a set of pushups, once again letting his mind drift where it would.

Hermione woke them all up the other night as an emotional shock ripped its way over their bond, bringing them each from a dead sleep into instant wakefulness. Harry had his wand blank in hand and was heading for the Floo before Susan and Amelia had been able to stop him from storming through into the Granger residence. He'd been unsettled and still had a niggling sensation at the back of his mind over the entire situation.

Something about the emotions he'd felt coming from Hermione that night didn't feel right to him and he couldn't put his finger on why. Shock, anger, nervous anxiety… Some quality of those feelings just seemed strange to him in some way that he couldn't identify and, aside from annoying him to no end that he couldn't put name to it, it left him feeling like something strange was going on.

Thinking of Hermione led his meandering thoughts to his other two girls. Images of cold blue eyes and honey blond hair flitted through his mind even as he imagined he could almost detect the scent of pine and fresh strawberries. Daphne confused Harry to an extreme degree. Even though their bond and friendship had deepened, she was still a study in contradictions. One moment, warm, helpful, and comforting, her feelings on display to them all. The next moment she became guarded and evasive as her Occlumency came down and her emotions became fiercely controlled.

Susan was another enigma, he realized, his glowing gaze flicking to his right where the girl in question was in the middle of a set of sit-ups. He technically spent more time with her than he did with Hermione or Daphne since they both lived in the same house, but he thought he might actually know less about her than he did the other two girls. He knew that she felt things, deeply. Susan was a girl that wore her heart on her sleeve, incredibly loyal and protective of those she felt close to but also empathetic and caring in a way he'd never seen before.

But her wants? Her dreams of the future? He realized he had no idea. Harry frowned, not noticing that he had suddenly stopped in the middle of his own sit-ups as he contemplated the issue for a time.

"Harry?"

He blinked as he voice reached him and the far away look in his eyes vanished as he focused his attention on her once again.

She was still sitting on the grass, knees drawn up with her feet flat and leaning back with her palms braced on the ground behind her. The position had her chest thrust up and out and for a moment he could stop his eyes from trailing down her body, lingering slightly on the way her damp long sleeved shirt clung to her rapidly developing curves.

He suddenly shook himself and snapped his gaze away as his face flushed a brilliant red and he threw himself back into his interrupted workout, hoping she hadn't noticed. As distracted as he was, he completely failed to see the pleased smile that stole over her lips at his reaction.

"Just thinking," he muttered, wondering why his mouth was suddenly dry.

Susan briefly contemplated teasing him but decided she would be nice and threw him a life line to grasp onto instead. "About this afternoon?"

He slowed, frowning as _that_ thought blew all others from his mind and he found himself nodding, slowly.

"I'm just not sure I'm going to like what Dumbledore has to say for himself today. I'm not exactly looking forward to it, but I need to know, one way or the other." He thought again of the list he'd compiled of questions he wanted to put to Albus Dumbledore about the happenings of the last couple of years and really hoped that it wasn't as incriminating for the old man as it all seemed. For all his mistakes the Headmaster _was_ a powerful wizard, and potentially a powerful ally as well. He didn't know if he could trust the old man as far as he could throw Hagrid, but he was willing to give him the opportunity to explain.

None of that did anything to calm the anxiety he felt over the whole situation, however.

Susan gave a sad little nod as the two of them climbed to their feet, Harry walking over to pick up his discarded shirt. "I can understand that, but you'll know in just a few hours, so no sense agonizing over it now, right?"

"I guess," he muttered and went to pull his shirt on. Before he was able to, though, she stepped closer to him and grabbed his arm, causing him to give her a questioning look.

She stood close enough that, in the cool early morning air, she could feel the heat radiating off of him as she shifted her weight nervously from foot to foot, her eyes tracing over the scars that littered his torso. He was just about to say something when she suddenly seemed to reach a silent decision and squared her shoulders.

"I wanted to thank you," she said, her gaze moving up to meet his.

Now he was confused. "For what?" he asked.

"For this." She placed her hand on his chest, warmth seeping into her glamour covered fingers. She could feel the large scar on his chest against her skin and the still rapid beating of his heart under her hand. "For listening to me. For not hiding from us. I… it really means a lot to me."

The sincerity in her voice was nearly overwhelming and he was at a loss for how they had suddenly moved to this topic. While he was trying to think of how to respond, she kept talking.

"I also wanted to apologize. I… we, that is, Hermione, Daphne, and I, haven't been very fair to you. We're pushed and been demanding, especially with…" She trailed off, fingers absently tracing the scar under her hand where she still held it against his chest.

"We have," she insisted when he made to protest. "We have, and that isn't fair. What we've been keeping from you since the day we met… we've had good reasons for it. I haven't always agreed with those reasons, but they were still valid, anyway." She licked her lips, nervously, but her eyes never strayed from his for even a moment.

"We've been talking it over, off and on since that day, but it never seemed like a good time to tell you. Now I think there's never going to _be_ a 'good time' and the longer we wait the worse it will be.

"So, I'm going to talk to them, today, and see if I can convince them that we need to lay it all out. I can't promise they'll agree but… well I _think_ they will. If they do, we'll all sit down and talk it over before Hermione leaves on her vacation with her parents, okay?"

Of all the things Harry might have expected her to say to him, that would have been extremely low on the list. But the nervous tension he could feel rolling off of her gave him pause, just as he was about to agree.

"Why are you so scared?" he asked, lifting his hand to place it over hers on his chest.

That was not a question that Susan wanted to answer, but she took a deep breath and did so anyway.

"I'm scared, because I know you're going to be angry. You're going to be upset and you'll have every right to be. Mostly, I'm afraid you'll hate us. More than just about anything, that terrifies me."

He thought about that, staring off into space for a moment while he absently rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb.

"Maybe you shouldn't tell me, then?" he offered. "Don't get me wrong, I don't like how I've been kept in the dark here. But, honestly, with everything that's happened to us over the last two years, I'd actually forgotten all about it. It hasn't been a problem before and I don't like seeing you worried. Maybe it would be better just to let it lie?"

For a moment, she almost accepted that, but then she managed to stop herself and shook her head. "No. No, you deserve to know and it's something you'll find out, eventually, anyway. The fact that you haven't yet, just by sheer accident, is fairly miraculous, to be honest. I would much rather you found out from us than you stumbling over it."

"If that's what you want, I won't try to talk you out of it anymore," he said. "I can't promise that I won't get upset, or even angry, but I can say that I could never hate you, any of you."

She smiled, a small, trembling thing, and gently took her hand back, tugging it out from under his. "Thank you, Harry." She took a deep calming breath and nodded again. "Come on," she said. "Let's go get cleaned up and find ourselves some breakfast, we've got a full day ahead of us, don't we?"

Harry agreed, wholeheartedly, with that idea and let her lead the way back into the house where they split in the upstairs hall to their respective rooms to shower and dress for the day.

#####

"Well," Griphook said later that afternoon as they all gathered in Sharpshard's office. The two goblins on one side of the large desk observed the six humans in the magically expanded office. Harry, Amelia, Neville, and the girls were seated in a rough 'U' shape in front of them, each waiting expectantly. "Before we get started, Lord Potter, I am pleased to say that the promotion I mentioned before is all set to go through, pending your approval."

"My approval?" Harry asked, startled. "Why would my approval matter over internal promotions?"

"I am not getting any younger," Sharpshard told them. "In fact, I am already quite old, for a goblin. You and Griphook have always appeared to have a healthy mutual respect for each other and with your permission I would like to take him on, officially, as Assistant Accounts Manager with the intent of him, one day, replacing me in managing the Potter Family Accounts."

Harry's eyes were wide. "Are you not well, Mister Sharpshard?" he asked and the aged goblin chuckled quietly, waving away Harry's concern with one hand.

"I am as well as can be expected, My Lord, just old. Rest assured, I do not see myself stepping down for some time yet, just planning for the future. It is always better to have someone who can work well with the client in place as early as possible."

He nodded at that and took a deep breath, tempering his initial reaction to immediately accept as he considered what he'd learned of goblin culture. Accepting too readily would be seen as foolish by most goblins, something that would erode the respect Harry had worked to cultivate. Quickly, he mentally reviewed the limited information he'd gleaned in studying his families financial statements and prepared a few questions.

"Teller Griphook," he started, purposely using the younger goblins current job title as a way to point out that he had not, yet, accepted the idea of promoting Griphook to the new position. "This would be quite a jump, for you, would it not?" It skips over several other steps in the Gringotts Hierarchy if I'm not mistaken?"

"It is, and it does, Lord Potter."

"Then why should I grant you such a gift, as opposed to selecting from an older, more experienced goblin that has already put in their time and earned such a promotion?"

"I have worked with Accounts Manager Sharpshard, closely, since you took up your ring and became the Lord Potter, Head of the House of Potter," Griphook stated clearly and calmly. "I am more familiar with the Potter accounts and assets than any other goblin in the bank save for Sharpshard himself. I am also familiar with your desire for privacy and your exploits in the wizarding world that have brought you to the attention of Branch Manager Ragnok. Of every goblin in service at this branch I am the most aware and most conveniently placed to take over the position as the Potter Accounts Manager in the future."

"Are you as informed as Accounts Manager Sharpshard in regards to my families business ventures and investments?"

"I am fully informed, as far as one can be without the approval of the Lord Potter. I also sat in and assisted with the contract negotiations with the Lady Zabini regarding your business partnership with House Zabini."

"Are you able to invest in muggle companies as well as wizarding businesses?"

Griphook arched a brow. "You have an interest in muggle businesses?" he asked.

Harry shrugged. "I have spoken in the past with Hermione's father Daniel Granger, and he's pointed out to me how much potential there is in the muggle world. I've asked around recently and I don't believe that many wizards have done much, if anything, to take advantage of this market. Lord Greengrass with his business in both the wizarding and muggle worlds is probably the only one I've actually heard of that has a foot in both worlds."

"Gringotts has attempted to suggest muggle businesses to some of our wealthier clients on many occasions," Griphook said, looking excited by the prospect. "We have been rebuffed at every turn in this regard."

"You won't get any arguments from me, only suggestions on where to focus. Muggle technology and communications have advanced dramatically in only the last ten years and they don't appear to be slowing down. I would be interested in you looking at phone companies and computer technology for places to invest in. Are you familiar enough with the technology that you would be able to do this?"

"Any that I am not familiar with I can consult with experts in the field to ensure the best possible information is used in deciding on any future investments," he assured Harry.

At that Harry fell silent and simply studied the little goblin for a moment longer before he broke into a broad grin, purposely showing his teeth and stood, reaching across the desk toward Griphook.

"Griphook, I think we're going to make a killing, so to speak, congratulations on your promotion."

Griphook grinned and accepted the offered hand, his long fingers curling around Harry's as they shook for a moment before Harry returned to his seat.

"Now that that's out of the way, if you could look this over, Lord Potter?" Sharpshard asked, holding over a piece of parchment which Harry took and motioned for Amelia to lean in so she could read over his shoulder..

"Mister Sharpshard," Amelia said after they'd read through it. "This is Gringotts contract for the rendering and selling of the Basilisk corpse currently residing in the Chamber at Hogwarts, correct?"

"It is."

"I don't see anything here that clarifies what Gringotts would charge for this service?"

"After inspecting the memory provided of the battle with the beast, Branch Manager Ragnok has asked that I present the following offer. Gringotts will render, transport, and sell the beast, free of monetary charge, including our usual percentage of the profits generated by the sale, in exchange for allowing us to take the meat for ourselves. Only goblins can actually consume the meat of a Basilisk and it is quite the delicacy to us. We felt that instead of making an offer to purchase it, we might both come out better overall for simply making it an exchange of services in this case."

Harry and Amelia shared a look at that and she gave him a nod. "Considering they'd be the only one bidding on the meat you won't find a better price. They could underbid and you'd have no choice but to sell to them in the end anyway and you'd also be out a decent percentage of the sale on top of what they'd charge for rendering and transport."

"This is more than acceptable, Sir," Harry told his Accounts Manager and the answering grin was feral, at best.

"Thank you, Lord Potter. You have made a rather large number of goblins exceedingly happy today. Professor McGonagall has already agreed to meet us at the gates and will lead the group up to the castle where you, Lord Potter, will escort us all down to the Chamber and we'll get to work."

"Thank you, were you able to get into contact with the other victims that were petrified?" Harry asked.

"Yes, My Lord. All of them will be meeting us there, they were quite eager for the opportunity to see first hand what petrified them."

"Well, then," Harry said as he stood. "No use wasting more time here, let's get this show on the road."

#####

Harry stood by Fawkes' perch, lost in thought while he absently stroked the magnificent bird's head with one hand. The trip into the chamber had gone exceedingly well, he thought, though he had to admit that he was surprised to find Ragnok waiting to accompany their party when they were leaving Gringotts. Harry had learned from their previous meeting and greeted Ragnok in a manner appropriate to his station in the goblin tongue, much to his undisguised delight. After a few minutes spent getting their group organized they took the Floo from a VIP waiting area to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmead. The look on the face of the woman that ran the bar when the Head of the DMLE, two Lords, a few friends, and more than a dozen goblins exited her fireplace had been absolutely priceless. Harry almost felt it worthy of the pranks his father and his friends had pulled while they were still students at Hogwarts themselves.

Justin Finch-Fletchley, Colin Creevey, and the Ravenclaw Prefect that had been petrified along with Neville and Hermione, a Penelope Clearwater, all met them at the gate and, within five minutes of their arrival, Professor McGonagall was on hand to escort them inside.

They'd trekked their way up to the castle with Colin talking a mile a minute the whole way in his excitement, something that grated on Harry's nerves a bit, but he had to admire how cheerful the kid was after being petrified the longest out of any of them. He didn't seem in the least bit fazed by the experience. With Dumbledore meeting them at the front entrance they made their way up to the girls loo and, at Hermione's suggestion, Harry had asked for stairs in Parseltongue after he opened the chute which resulted in a set of steps growing out from wall of the pipe, allowing them to talk down without getting filthy, as well as providing a more convenient method by which they could leave.

Once the Chamber itself was opened, Harry found himself mobbed by crying witches as they took in the sight of the massive corpse. Even Daphne, who actually witnessed the fight, was brought to tears at the sight, her mind going back to seeing Harry's broken and bleeding body sprawled out on the floor. By the time he managed to calm his three girls, the goblins had already set to work, Ragnok barking out orders in their guttural language.

Those invited to view the chamber quickly left at that point as the goblins began their gruesome task and Harry led the girls out of the Chamber, with him and Dumbledore agreeing to return another time to see if there were any other secrets still left undiscovered.

Now, standing in the Headmaster's office, he had the time to ask his questions, but had no idea where to begin.

"I find, the beginning, to usually be a logical choice," Dumbledore pointed out after Harry expressed that issue in his frustration and he cracked a small smile.

"Fair enough," he agreed with a shrug and moved over to drop into a chair, notepad coming out of his pocket as he started working his way down his list. "There are some things I've noticed that don't exactly make sense to me, and I was hoping that you might be able to clear things up," he started.

"If I can, I shall do my best to do so." Dumbledore leaned back in his seat, sherbert lemon in his mouth and his hands folded on top of his long beard as he waited.

"Last year. You knew I wasn't the Heir of Slytherin, I couldn't be, but you did nothing to stop the insults and comments from the other students. Why?"

"As painful, or distasteful as it sometimes is, people do have the right to freedom of speech. I cannot punish someone for saying something that they hold an opinion about."

"Maybe. But you _could_ have made a statement, telling people that I wasn't the Heir, that I couldn't be. That might have gone some way toward getting people off of my back about the whole thing."

"Perhaps," the old wizard admitted. "But I could not be sure of that. And the talk would possibly have only shifted direction to how you are getting preferential treatment. Not something I believe you would want."

Harry winced at that but couldn't help but agree with that assessment, so he moved on to his other concerns.

"Aren't Hogwarts Wards designed to warn the Headmaster when dark artifacts or magic enters the school? Should you have been aware of the diary?"

"I was aware that something had come onto the grounds the night of the opening feast. However one thing people tend to forget is that, while the wards around the school are extremely old and powerful, they are not infallible. What even more people do not know, and what I will have to ask that you never share, is that they are actually far less powerful than people think."

"How do you mean, Sir?" Harry asked, frowning in confusion.

"In another time, yes, the wards would have told the Headmaster of the school exactly where the item was the moment it came onto the grounds. However over the centuries many of the control runes used in the creation of the original ward scheme have eroded or otherwise become worn. The wards are still strong and will protect the castle against an attack, but many of the more subtle wards simply do not work as they once did. Not anymore. While I knew something had some onto the grounds I did not know where it was, I did not know who had it, or even what it might have been, just that it felt very dark."

"Why didn't you just have the students belongings searched?" Amelia asked.

"And what if they were able to hide or otherwise prevent us from discovering the item?" Dumbledore countered. "They would have been more cautious in the future as they would now have been forewarned that I knew something was amiss. I had informed the portraits and the ghosts to keep their eyes open and to inform me as quickly as they could if they noticed anything out of the ordinary. Alas, young Miss Lovegood somehow managed to avoid being seen while she was under the diary's thrall."

Harry glanced at Amelia, who had a pained expression on her face. "He's not wrong," she admitted. "He's not entirely right, but he's not wrong. You should have contacted my offices, Albus. We could have helped and done something about the situation."

"Perhaps, however I felt it was too great a risk to take the chance of warning the perpetrator that I was onto them, as it were."

"What about the incident with the stone in our first year?" Harry asked the question that really most bugged him.

"What about it bothers you?"

"I… I just…" Harry took a deep breath and pushed forward. "I feel like it was all a test. Security measure that a bunch of first years were able to get through protecting one of the most valuable magical artifacts ever created? I'm sorry but that story just doesn't hold water. And how could you not have realized that Quirrel was possessed?"

Dumbledore sat forward, resting his elbows on his desk. "Once again, the wards did not inform me, or were not clear enough and I had no way to know for certain. As far as the Stone itself… You feel as if I set the whole thing up to test you? Perhaps to see how you might behave considering the prophecy?" he asked.

"It's the only thing that I could think of. There was no way the measures you put in place to protect the Stone were going to be effective. So how are we to believe that you were actually trying to protect such a valuable artifact?"

The aged wizard carefully studied Harry for a moment before he spoke. "I can see how you could have reached that conclusion, Lord Potter," he admitted. "However, I believe you'll find the actual reasoning to be far less… manipulative, then you believe. I am not the puppet master many believe me to be, nor the chess master, using people to reach my own ends. You are correct, in that, the measures used to protect the stone would never have stopped anyone with any real determination, but they weren't really meant to stop, and they also weren't meant for you."

"I asked the other professors to help me with those measures for two reasons. One, I could not, in good conscience, hide what I intended to hide within this school without their knowledge. They needed to be as aware as possible in order to help protect the students that might have been tempted to take a peek into the area. The second reason that I asked, and why their measures really would not have stood up to much concentrated effort by a determined thief was, though Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick and the others are accomplished witches and wizards, true masters of the craft in their chosen fields, they are _not_ experts in security."

Harry was confused for a moment before he felt a sudden spike of understanding across the bond mixed with surprise.

"Are you kidding me?" Hermione burst out. "The security measures were so simple because they were set up by amateurs?"

"Quite correct, Miss Granger. I would offer points to Gryffindor, but, alas, class is not presently in session. It is true. While Professor Flitwick, for example, is a Charms Master, he really does not understand what is required in high end security, such as what would be offered by a curse breaker or warder. That is why the measures were so simplistic. In truth, I did not expect them to be particularly effective, it was the final obstacle, the mirror, that was the true security for the Stone."

"But why do it at all? What was the point to having the Stone here? And why that year? It all seems very convenient that as soon as I re-enter the wizarding world there's suddenly all this activity involving Voldemort. There wasn't anything for the ten years before that, was there?"

"No, there was not, per se. Not of any noticeable degree, at least. I do feel that I might have found some evidence of his movements over the years but they were always very small and easily explained away through other means so I cannot be certain. As to why then… well, you said it yourself. That was when you re-entered the wizarding world."

"Huh?"

"I believe that Tom has been biding his time, waiting and gathering his strength. Before you came to school, you were hidden from our world, relatively safe in the muggle world. I say relatively since as badly as you were treated with your relatives, you _were_ still safe from anyone magical that would intend to do you harm. I let it be known, subtly, that I would be protecting a valuable artifact at the school. I did so in the last area where I suspected Tom to be hiding. I felt that it would be sufficient bait to draw him to the school. Both the opportunity to be near the Bow-Who-Lived, who he views as a threat, and the chance to potentially regain his power. I had intended for the other professors security measures to slow him down, just a touch. When he encountered the mirror I knew he would be unable to break the enchantment, and that would give me time to attempt to trap him. I had a trap laid, hoping that if I could capture that wandering spirit and lock him away somewhere, I might be able to circumvent the prophecy that he so believes in, and thus spare you having to deal with it in the future. I must say, that I did not account for you and your friends."

"You've got a lot of nerve setting up such a dangerous situation in a school full of children, Albus," Amelia practically snarled.

"And I take full responsibility for that. However, I surmised that Harry's return to our world would be quite the potential draw to Tom, and I did the best that I could to attempt to capture him and remove the danger that he represents."

"Why didn't you talk to me or to anyone at the ministry?"

Dumbledore lowered his head slightly, peering over his half moon spectacles at her. "Would you have believed me? Our entire world believes that Voldemort died on that Halloween night. I am known to be a bit eccentric, but if I started talking about how Voldemort was still alive and was only gathering his strength to return again even I would be unable to withstand the political and public backlash that would ensue."

Amelia scowled but had no ready response for that and simply settled on glaring at the aged wizard.

"So it really is all a coincidence?" Harry asked.

"There's no such thing as coincidence. But at the same time that doesn't mean it's a conspiracy or manipulation against you."

All eyes turned to stare at the shelf on the far wall where the sorting hat rested. No one moved for several moments before the rip in the hat's brim opened again and its voice once more filled the room. "Destiny. Fate. These are words that you humans throw around willy nilly, as if they're concrete terms. Everyone has a destiny. Everyone has a fate. But within that there is still choice and free will. What'd I tell you during your sorting, Lord Potter?" the hat asked and Harry frowned, unable to answer the question.

"I told you, that you are a nexus. There are some people in the world within the tapestry of fate, around which momentous events will transpire. You are one such individual. There are actually several such people in this room, right now. You are by far the strongest of them in this instance. You might as well get used to strange things happening around you with little to no explanation. It's going to be happening for a long time whether you like it or not."

"But why me?" Harry almost demanded. "What's so great about me?"

"To quote the Bard, 'Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.' You, Lord Potter, I believe, will be a victim of all three."

Silence reigned again, broken only by the sound of Harry muttering darkly under his breath, until Hermione couldn't hold it in any longer and hesitantly asked, "you know Shakespeare?"

"Well, of course I do, Miss Granger," the hat replied. "He was a wizard, after all."

With that, the hat went still and the rest of them got a quiet laugh out of Hermione spending the next ten minutes badgering the silent hat to tell her about Shakespeare.

Eventually, Daphne and Susan directed the flustered and frustrated girl back to her chair and they were able to conclude their conversation.

"I hope that I have been able to satisfactorily answer your question?" Dumbledore asked and Harry, almost reluctantly, nodded.

"You still made plenty of mistakes, Sir, but I honestly can't hold that against you, can I? I make more than a few mistakes myself, so it'd be pretty hypocritical of me to hold those against you, wouldn't it?"

"As so many of my mistakes impacted you so directly I could not begrudge you the desire to hold at least a few of them against me," Dumbledore admitted. "But I do thank you for that. We do still have your promise to the hat to discuss, which we can do once the school year resumes. If there is no other business I do have several other appointments that I must endeavor to keep this afternoon."

They all stood and bid the Headmaster goodbye before making their way to the door leaving him alone in his office with just the hat and Fawkes to keep him company.

#####

 _ **Lord-Who-Lived to Receive Highest Honor**_

 _By, Senior Editor Barnabus Cuffe_

 _It has come to our attention, here at the Daily Prophet, that the young man responsible for the peace our society has enjoyed for the last twelve years, Lord Harry James Potter (12), is being awarded the wizarding world's highest honor, an Order of Merlin, First Class._

 _Finally, you must be saying, he is receiving the award that should have been given to him over a decade ago. It's about time._

 _Right?_

 _Wrong._

 _It is with no little amount of surprise and even some horror that I must reveal to you, dear readers, that this previous year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, something terrible, and altogether horrifying happened. For much of the year, mysterious attacks were taking place, attacks which resulted in the petrification of five students._

 _Yes, petrification._

 _It was believed, for some time, that young Lord Potter, might have been responsible for the attacks as it was revealed during the course of the year that he is a Parslemouth, able to converse with snakes at will, an ability long believed to be synonymous with dark wizards as the two most famous users of this ability are Salazar Slytherin and You-Know-Who himself. After hearing the story, however, I cannot begin to believe that Lord Potter is anything but a hero, a belief obviously shared by the Ministry as they have seen fit to award him the Order of Merlin for his actions._

 _The story is long, and complex, and I shall not go into the details at this time. There were be a series of articles over the next week to explain the entirety of the events that took place but suffice it to say there was a beast, a terrible creature released from the fabled Chamber of Secrets, a supposedly hidden chamber built by Slytherin himself before he fled the castle a millennia ago. As the legend goes, Slytherin left a monster in the Chamber so that in the future his Heir could release it to cleanse the school of those he deemed tainted, or inferior._

 _The creature, was a Basilisk._

 _Yes, a Basilisk. I cannot express how shocked I was to hear the story, a story which has been confirmed through numerous magical means._

 _As it goes, students were taken into the Chamber a month before the end of the school year and Lord Potter, at great risk to himself, found the entrance and descended into the chamber to do battle with the perpetrator. In the end, the Basilisk was defeated by Lord Potter's own hand, a hand that wielded the Sword of Gryffindor as he slayed the beast and rescued his friends and classmates._

 _Headmaster Albus Dumbledore himself put forth Lord Potter's name to receive the Order after hearing the story, witnessing a pensieve memory and, earlier this summer, descending into the chamber himself along with high ranking officials of the Ministry and several Hogwarts Professors to see the body of the great serpent._

 _At twelve-years-old, Lord Potter single handedly killed a one of the deadliest creatures known to wizardingkind, and the most impressive specimen in known history as well. Measuring just short of seventy feet in length it is the largest Basilisk ever recorded._

 _The ceremony for the awarding of the Order will be by invitation only and is set to take place in the second week of August, as of the time of this writing. Keep your eyes on this publication for further details of this momentous occasion._

 _On a more personal note, I, for one, would like to thank Lord Potter for his actions. A large number of children were placed in harms way last year, and he protected them all at great personal risk to himself. I do not have children of my own at Hogwarts, but I have many friends that do, and I cannot imagine the devastation they would have felt if they had been forced to bury their own child._

 _Thank you, Lord Potter, and congratulations on your upcoming award. You have more than earned it._

 _ **Azkaban Breakout!**_

 _By, Senior Editor, Barnabus Cuffe_

 _Deemed impossible. Never before accomplished. It has finally happened. An inmate has escaped the feared Azkaban Prison. And worse, I fear I must say, the escapee is none other than one Sirius Orion Black. Yes, the same Sirius Black that betrayed the Potters nearly thirteen years ago. The same Sirius Black who later killed another of his closest friends one Peter Pettigrew along with twelve muggles, killing them all with a single curse._

 _There has been no word from the DMLE on just how Black might have made good his escape. The last person to speak to the infamous wizard was none other than our very own Minister Cornelius Fudge, who said in a statement: "I visited the prison just last week during one of my routinely scheduled inspections. Black spoke to me when I passed his cell. He seemed far more lucid than the others stuck in that place and calmly asked if he could have my copy of the Prophet that I happened to be carrying with me that day. Said he missed doing the daily puzzle."_

 _As some may know, constant exposure to the Dementors, the guards that keep the inmates in their cells at Azkaban, has been known to drive many a weaker willed witch or wizard to madness. It is the opinion of this paper that any wizard able to keep his sanity after more than ten years around such horrifically dark beings as the Dementors must be quite the dark and dangerous individual in his own right._

 _Word has already been given to the Muggle Prime Minister, something that some members of the international community are less than pleased with but Black is a clear and present danger to anyone and everyone. His image is being released to muggle news sources as well to ensure that as many as possible are keeping an eye out for this most dangerous individual._

 _It is not known, at this time, if Black has managed to procure a wand, but the ministry, and in particular, the DMLE, urge our citizens to consider him armed and extremely dangerous. Should you happen across him you should in no way attempt to apprehend him yourself. Instead it is urged that you contact the proper authorities immediately so that they can handle the situation…_

 _ **The Bonded Lord**_

 _By. Rita Skeeter_

 _I am sure that many of you out there must be wondering what is meant by the headline of this article. Well, I shall explain. One of the most romanticized concepts in all of the wizarding world is that of the near mythical Soul Bond. The bonding of two soul mates on a level that most couples could only dream to achieve. And why does this matter? Why is it a news worthy thing to write about?_

 _Word has reached our offices from that great bastion of knowledge and education, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, that during the last term it was announced to the students at large that our very own, Lord Harry James Potter (12) is a part of just such a bonding of the souls. But of course, he couldn't be a part of anything so mundane as to simply be bonded to a single witch. Oh no. Lord Potter appears to be part of the first ever four way bond in all of history._

 _Yes, you read that correctly._

 _Sources tell me that at their sorting two years ago three first year girls were denied by the sorting hat and stood off to the side as the hat refused to sort them into a house. Not until then Mister Potter took his turn under the hat were they directed to all four sit and be sorted simultaneously. The hat was apparently lowered over their heads and after a few minutes the girls sitting to either side took his hands in theirs while the third placed a hand on the back of his neck and witnesses say that all four began to glow, each a different color. The exact colors for each individual is apparently uncertain as I have heard conflicting reports on what those were._

 _Suffice it to say, it is likely that this is when the bonding occurred._

 _And who? Who, you say are these young ladies, these witches that have just broken the hearts of many a witch the length and breadth of our great nation?_

 _First is a young woman from a powerful and influential family, Miss Susan Bones (13) niece to Madam Amelia Bones, the current Head of the DMLE._

 _Second is one Daphne Greengrass (13). Many of you may know that the Greengrass family has long been suspected of dark leanings._

 _Third is a young muggle born witch by the name of Harmony Granger (13) She has been described by fellow students as frighteningly intelligent if a bit plain and apparently quite ambitious as well seeing as linking herself to a Lord of a Most Ancient and Noble House should see her status in our world catapulted to heights far beyond what she would ever be able to attain on her own._

 _But wait. You must be wondering. Isn't Soul Magic outlawed in nearly every country in the world, including our own?_

 _Why, yes, dear readers, yes it is. And since the only recorded Soul Bonds ever involved soul mates who had known each other for many years before their bonding, how could these witches have ensnared the young lord so quickly? What did they do to ensure the formation of such a bond, and have the already completed it? What must their parents and guardians think of these young witches practicing such illegal magics?_

 _I do hope that Madam Bones does the right thing and looks past her familial attachment to her niece and launches a thorough investigation into this situation. I will not traumatize my readers by speculating on what depravity three ladies might get up to with a single wizard, but I must wonder which of the young women were the first to bring the others into their plan. Miss Granger with her loose muggle morals? Or was it perhaps the dark aligned Miss Greengrass?_

 _Only time, and investigation, will tell, and I assure you that I will do my utmost to bring you everything I can discover in regard to this situation as it unfolds…_

#####

Amelia sat at the kitchen table, glaring at the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. She was sorely tempted to set the offensive rag on fire, if she was being completely honest with herself. Every day for the last three days had been one article after another focusing heavily on Harry and that one about the bids' bond… she'd had to actively talk herself out of running off and hexing Skeeter into the next decade. The temptation was still there.

A clattering of footsteps caught her attention and she quickly flipped over the paper, setting it face down and looking up just as the door leading out to the back patio opened and five sweaty kids walked in, chattering quietly amongst themselves as they entered the room.

"-ow much?" Neville was asking from the back of the group.

"A thousand Galleons," came Harry's answer. "The twins wrote me last week, said they were all going on a family vacation to Egypt to visit their oldest brother, Bill. He's a curse breaker, apparently, and works for Gringotts."

"What's all this?" Amelia asked while Susan started passing out cold glasses of water to the rest of them. Discreetly, she tapped the side of her tea cup with her wand and gentle wisps of steam began to rise from the surface of the dark liquid.

"The Weasley's won the Prophet's Grand Prize draw," Hermione explained. "Neville asked about the twins coming over to celebrate his and Harry's birthdays this weekend. Harry was just explaining how the extended Weasley clan is out of the country and won't be able to make it for the party."

"And the party is on your birthday this year," Neville reminded him. "We had the big party on mine last year so we're switching things up."

"I remember, Nev." Harry grinned brightly at his friend and sipped from his water.

The five friends joked and laughed for a few minutes longer while Amelia slowly sipped at her rewarmed tea until Neville glanced at his watch and winced.

"I've got to get going," he said, setting down his empty water glass. "Gran wanted my help after breakfast and I've still got to shower and get ready for the day. I'll see you all tomorrow?" The last was said over his shoulder as he was already heading out of the kitchen and Harry and the girls called out their agreement and goodbye's as he waved back at them and disappeared toward the Floo.

"Sounds like our cue to go get cleaned up too," Susan said, tugging at the neck of her damp shirt, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "We're a mess." With that the four of them made their way upstairs, Harry heading into his room while the girls each took their own. Though they tended to end up in the same bed when either Daphne or Hermione stayed over at night, each girl did have their own room with an accompanying en suite.

Left alone, once again, Amelia sighed to herself and looked down at the newspaper. She _really_ couldn't put off telling him for any longer. She just so hated to add more worries to the weight he already carried, especially after seeing how cheerful and happy he was of late.

"Dammit," she muttered. "Is that kid ever going to get a break?"

#####

"Are we sure?"

Harry looked up from his desk at the sound of the voice. Even muffled he would never mistake Hermione's voice for anyone else's.

"We have to, Herm… ou know it's the right thing…"

That was Susan. He frowned, wondering what they could possibly be talking about on the other side of his bedroom door. He'd just finished his shower after their morning workout and had dressed comfortably and casually in slacks and a dark blue long sleeved shirt. His feet were bare and he'd just decided to work on a letter to Luna when he'd noticed their voices.

Standing, he padded quietly over to the door and reached for the knob.

"But is he ready for it? Is he going to hate- holy crap!"

Hermione's worries altered abruptly into a startled exclamation as he pulled the door open to find all three of his girls standing in the hall outside his room, each one dressed in a thick terry cloth bathrobe that nearly brushed the floor. They had their hair tied up in loose, messy buns at the back of their heads and each appeared to be freshly out of the shower.

He expressly did _not_ consider what they may or may not have been wearing beneath their robes and simply arched a brow at them as Hermione attempted to recover from the fright he'd caused when he'd yanked open the door.

"You know," he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. "If you don't want someone to hear you three chatting away, you might not want to have the discussion right outside that persons door." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame, studying them with an amused expression on his face.

"You scared me!" Hermione blurted out, swatting his shoulder several times as he laughed.

"It's not my fault," he reminded her and she only scowled at him for a moment before Susan nudged her shoulder and her complexion suddenly paled a considerable amount.

Harry peered at her for a moment before moving his gaze to Susan and then to Daphne, taking in the nearly identical pensive, and even slightly fearful expressions they wore.

"This is about that thing you guys have been avoiding telling me about that you said you were going to talk them into finally coming clean on, isn't it?" Harry asked, staring straight at Susan and she nodded, slowly.

He took a deep breath, apprehension filling him all of a sudden for a moment before he pushed it away and nodded.

"Well, you'd better come in then."

Nodding quietly the three of them filed past him into the room as he stepped aside and once all three of them had entered, he let the door swing quietly shut behind them.

#####

The first explosion shook the house and, despite none of the wards or alerts going off, Amelia had her wand in her hand and was sprinting from her study as fast as her feet could carry her. She met the girls in the hallway, each wearing far less than she'd ever seen of them, a long bathrobe over their shoulders but open in the front and she knew immediately what must have happened.

"You told him?" she practically barked out and the three of them flinched so she took a moment to take a deep breath as another explosion rocked the manor. "You told him." It wasn't a question that time and her voice was much softer with the repetition as the girls nodded, tears brimming in their eyes.

"He didn't say anything," Hermione murmured, her voice almost lost in the echoing roar of another explosion.

"He's upset."

"He's pissed," Daphne corrected sarcastically.

"But not at us," Susan interjected and Amelia glanced her way with one arched brow. "Well… yeah, he's mad at us for not telling him. But this anger… it's unfocused. It's not directed at something specific. He's just… well, yeah, he's pissed off."

"I'm guessing he went out back?"

They nodded again and she hesitated for a moment before gesturing to them.

"Get dressed and… and just keep back, okay? Let me try talking to him."

A third nod and moments later the three of them had disappeared into Susan's room.

As she made her way down the stairs another explosion rocked the house, the sound of it growing louder and louder as she drew closer. In between the explosions she could hear curse after hex after jinx being cast, each one hissing through the air and a series of pops and cracks echoed through the back yard as a result.

When she stepped out onto the back patio, Harry stood just a few feet onto the grass, a series of dummies she knew hadn't been there earlier lined up about fifty feet away from him as each exploded or was immolated or torn to pieces one after the other. She stopped about ten feet away from him, tapping her left palm with the tip of her wand several times as she considered the situation. Power rolled off of him in waves that she could actually see distorting the air around him. She was sure his eyes must have seemed like two emerald infernos in his head from the magic coursing through his body.

But just blowing up targets wasn't going to be enough…

Harry spun, rotating on his left heel and his right hand came up as he felt it approaching. Magic shimmered into existence around his hand for the briefest of moments and he just barely deflected the low powered cutting curse that had been heading his way in time to duck as three more curses ripped through the air where he'd been standing.

He rolled quickly to his feet and took in the sight of Amelia Bones standing twenty feet away from him on the grass, the glowing tip of her wand pointed in his direction and her face set in an emotionless mask as she lifted her left hand and curled her fingers in a 'come and get it' sort of gesture. Without thinking his hand came up and in seconds a half a dozen curses left his palm. Tripping jinxes, tongue locking hex, knock-back jinx, disarming charm, stunning charm, jelly legs jinx.

None of them struck as Amelia exploded into motion, spinning, ducking, weaving and dodging with such grace that for a moment Harry was stunned. Until a low powered bludgeoning charm caught him in the chest and knocked him arse over teakettle. He rolled, dodging three more spells he didn't recognize and came up on one knee sending back another tripping jinx and a leg locker curse.

Amelia shielded the tripping jinx and actually batted the leg locker aside with the tip of her wand as she started to advance on him. Her wand seemed alive in her hand, dipping and weaving like a snake, striking out in lightning fast flicks of the tip of her wand as a veritable rainbow of spells spewed forth.

Harry's breath burned in his throat and his muscles protested the action, already exhausted from the unusual activity. It reminded him strongly of the battle in the Chamber and he realized he was lucky that it ended when it did. None of his exercises had taken into account this type of activity, and while he was definitely in better shape than he'd ever been in his life, there was no way he could keep up this kind of frenetic activity for long.

It all ended when he rolled across the grass again to avoid a cyan green spell that he'd never seen before and before he'd done more than rise to his knees the glowing crimson of a stunner caught him right in the face and he slumped back onto the grass as darkness overtook him.

Amelia waited for a few moments, her wand still held out in front of her, breath slightly elevated and a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead as she observed the prone form laid out on the grass, looking for any sign that he might be playing possum. When he didn't leap up and continue to attack after a few seconds she lowered her wand and made her way over to him, carefully laying him flat on his back and checking him over for any injuries before she pointed her wand and cast a reviving charm.

Harry's eyes popped open and he blinked several times, squinting against the bright sunlight above before his narrowed eyes landed on her concerned blue gaze.

"Dammit. I just got my arse nailed to my head as a hat, didn't I?" he muttered and she burst out laughing for a moment, reaching down to grab his hand and yank him to his feet.

"You actually didn't do too badly," she disagreed as she pulled him into a hug. "You managed to dodge a fair number of spells I wouldn't have expected from a beginner, so color me impressed."

He grumbled under his breath, but gratefully returned the hug for a few moments before she stepped back and led him over to the patio table and chairs, pushing him, none too gently, into one of them before taking another for herself. She called for Binky, giving him a few moments to gather his thoughts as she requested something cool from the little elf and when she finally placed a bottle of chilled butter beer in front of him, she sat back and took a long sip of her own before she started.

"They finally told you about the scars, huh?"

Harry shot her a look. "You knew, too?" He snorted and answered himself in the next second. "Of course you did, the scars were what tipped you off that Susan was bonded to someone."

"And the scars were _really_ how we knew just how bad things must have been for you at your relatives," Amelia added. "I understand you've got to be furious, and you have every right to be, but what are you mad about, exactly?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "Well there's any number of reasons you could be upset. Mad that they didn't tell you. Mad that it happened at all. Mad that people knew more about what was really happening to you than you thought, or that they, or I, told you about."

"You?"

"I told you, the scars were how we knew." Amelia blew out a long sigh, feeling a tension in her shoulders she couldn't quite explain as she tried to articulate what she wanted to express. "I saw those scars appearing on my niece over the years, Harry. Each one hurt her. Not to the extent they hurt you, but they did hurt before they closed up. On our end, all we knew was there was someone out there, and terrible things were happening to him. You should know me well enough by now to understand I'm a woman that likes to _do_. Sitting around, unable to actually do anything to make the situation better… that was one of the hardest things I've ever experienced. Seeing Susan go through all of that, knowing there was someone else, you, and you didn't have the support that the girls had. You didn't have someone that cared about you, someone that loved you.

"I can't begin to imagine how you're feeling. I didn't agree with the girls keeping things quiet, but they told me last summer that the hat requested it of them so I let things go for a while. I didn't feel it was my place, it wasn't my secret to share, if that makes sense?"

Harry considered that, scowling darkly at the bottle he held tightly in his hands. "I'm not mad at you, Amy," he said, finally. "I'm not even mad at the girls, really. I mean, yeah I wish they'd just told me sooner, but… hell, I don't know how to feel. I think that's what's most upsetting, honestly. I could be pissed about the bond, I could be pissed that they were basically spying on me for all these years. I could be pissed about a lot of things… but in the end it all boils down to, none of us had any choice in the matter, did we?" He finally looked up at her, meeting her eyes for a moment before glancing down again.

"You've said it enough times, the girls have said it enough times, we didn't have a choice in being a part of this bond. I don't like it. I hate that they… they have to deal with this…" he glanced down at his left arm, his sleeves having both been pushed back to his elbows at some point before she'd come out to meet him, and glared at the scar on the inside of his forearm. "None of these are their fault," he whispered. "And I get it, it's not my fault, either. Most of them I didn't do to myself, and even that one I didn't know about this bond or them. Hermione said that in our first year I somehow managed to not add a single scar to our collection. Last year, not so much."

"What does last year have to do with it?"

"I would have tried harder to not get mangled!" he snapped.

"And what would you have done differently?" she snapped right back, glaring at him. "Heading into the Chamber to save Daphne, to protect Susan, and Hermione, and Neville. What would you have done differently? Would you have kept your distance from the Basilisk? Would you not have gone? You added quite a bit to your collection last year, like you said. But what would it really have mattered, one way or the other, if you knew or didn't know at that time?"

He remained silent, unable to think of a response to that.

The two glared at each other for a few moments before she slowly leaned forward, resting her elbows on the smooth glass surface of the table as her gaze softened slightly.

"Look, why don't you tell me what happened. I don't exactly know anything other than they told you. But what did they say?"

He frowned again and she was starting to worry that he'd end up with permanent creases etched into his face before he started talking.

#####

He was nervous in a way he wasn't sure he'd ever experienced before as the door closed and his girls found seats around the coffee table by the fireplace. They looked as nervous as he felt and he couldn't help but feel a bit relieved by that realization. It was nice to know that he wasn't the only one uncomfortable with the entire situation.

Susan was shifting awkwardly in her seat while Hermione kept alternately wringing her hands together even as she fiddled with the sleeves of her robes. Daphne was conspicuous in how still she was, sinking herself into her training, relying on her experience and her Occlumency to not give away how nervous she was. Only their bond and the fact that he knew her well enough let Harry see it for the defense mechanism that it was.

"Are we just going to sit here and stare at each other?" he joked after several silent minutes crept past them but not even a glimmer of a smile touched any of the girl's lips.

"I still don't know that this is a good idea," Hermione muttered.

"We talked about this," Susan shot back. "There isn't going to be a good time to bring this up. There isn't going to be a better time. No matter what we've kept this secret for almost two years now and he deserves to know."

Hermione's face screwed up in distaste but a few seconds later she suddenly seemed to sag in on herself, her shoulders hunching inward as she let out a despondent sigh.

"I know," she whispered, fear and worry bleeding across their bond. "I just-"

"I'll tell you the same thing that I told Susan," Harry said, interrupting her in the process. "I can't promise that I won't be angry, or upset, whatever this is. But I can promise that I won't hate the three of you for it," he said, trying to be as reasonable as he could. "It might take me a while to calm down or to get past it, but the three of you are far too important to me to actually hate you over this."

Cautious relief flowed from all three of them at that, even Daphne, as faint as it was from behind her Occlumency shields, and the each relaxed, almost imperceptibly.

"Well, there's no sense in dragging things out, then, is there?" Susan said, glancing over at the other two girls. "When we were sorted, the hat only asked us to hold back one thing from you, the one thing that we wouldn't tell you about that first night when we discussed our situation."

"The thing that tipped off your parents and guardians about the bond?" Harry asked after a moments thought.

They nodded and Hermione seemed to draw herself up, squaring her shoulders before looking to Daphne. "Daphne?" she asked. "You're our only lefty, would you do the honors?"

Harry frowned in confusion as all three of them held their right hands out in front of them, close together over the table with their palms pointing up and Daphne waved her wand over the extended appendages as she cast a quick 'finite' as if she might not go through with it if she didn't do it as quickly as she could. Each of their hands blurred for a moment as the magic hiding their hands, glamours, he realized, shimmered and shattered, and when they were clear and in focus again he found his mouth dropping open in shock.

Silence stretched between them as he looked back and forth between their hands several times and then at his own scarred hand and forearm, comparing the scars for several minutes before he finally found his voice.

"What the fuck?" he blurted out and, even though Hermione winced, she chose not to comment on his language. "They're the same," he muttered, confusion edging toward panic as he continued to study the identical spread of the scars across all four of their hands. "How are they the same? What the fuck happened?" he demanded, harshly his eyes hard and gleaming brilliantly.

"They're called Soul Scars," Hermione practically whispered, trembling slightly in the face of the growing anger they could feel rolling across their bond and see burning in his gaze. "Remember the hat said we were part of an initial bond?"

He nodded jerkily and his face set into a stony impassive expression as the girls took turns outlining what they knew, how until they completed the bond they would continue to share each others scars.

"So you have _all_ of them?" he practically snarled and they flinched again.

"As far as we know. All but one." Daphne muttered and each of them glanced at the lightning bolt shaped scar where it was half hidden by the fringe of Harry's hair.

They hadn't been a minute into their explanation before Harry had been out of his seat and pacing angrily back and forth in front of the fire. He was tense, and power swirled around him as much as he tried to rein it in. All of them? All his scars they… how…

He shook his head almost violently for a moment before he looked back to them just in time to see them stand and shuck off their bathrobes, letting the thick cloth pool at their feet, their arms at their sides and Harry froze at the sight of them.

Each girl was dressed in a pair of shorts that came to barely mid thigh and a modestly cut bikini top and in that moment a sudden realization clicked into place in Harry's mind, something he'd noticed but never really consciously acknowledged. His girls always dressed to completely cover themselves, like he did. They wore shirts, blouses and dresses with high neck lines and long sleeves and either long trousers or ankle length dresses and skirts. He had literally never seen as much skin as they were showing now, even if they were still modestly covered. That realization was quickly obliterated from his conscious thoughts, however, as his sharp gaze noted each of the scars spread across their skin, from the long mark on the inside of their left forearms to the small slashes across the right side of their rib cage and the long thick scar across their chests from his battle with the Basilisk.

He slowly made his way around the coffee table until he approached Susan and reached out, gently tracing the bumpy burn scar that covered her right shoulder, the tips of his fingers trailing down her arm, gently brushing each scar for a moment before he took her by the shoulders and turned her until her back was to him. The tangled web of scar tissue stood out sharply on her skin and Harry bit back a groan at the sight.

He studied the scars marking their bodies, ignoring the flush in their cheeks at his close scrutiny and finally found himself standing before the fire again, hands fisted in his hair for a moment before he let out a long sigh and his arms dropped, palms slapping against his thighs as he tried to order his thoughts. Two years. Two years they'd been hiding the scars from him all the while pushing and coaxing him to open up, to talk to them, share with them. Hell, after Hermione had woken up from being petrified she'd _made_ him show off his newest scars. Daphne still hadn't told them about her past, except to Hermione when the other girl had been petrified and unable to even hear her. _So they'll push me to share everything I want to keep to myself but won't share anything with me?_ he thought, furiously.

Shame, disgust, pain. They all fell away in the face of a new and simmering anger. His eyes hardened, cold glowing chips of emerald and before they could say anything more he spun and his heel and stalked his way out the room. The fingers of his right hand twitched and his door flew open as he approached and slammed shut behind him, leaving the girls alone to hope that they would recover from this.

#####

"You understand they just want to help you, right?" Amelia tried, gently and Harry scowled at the bottle he still held in his hands.

"Yeah, I get it. But they seem to be expecting a lot from me without giving the same themselves."

"Which is something you'll all have to figure out as you go, but isn't the fact that they told you a good thing? They're starting to open up more, right?"

He frowned at that but couldn't actually refute the statement so he kept his silence.

"I can understand you being upset with them and I'm not asking you to just forgive them and move on, but don't give up on them, either."

When he nodded she sighed and leaned back in her seat. "Thank you, Harry. There's enough to be concerned about already."

"Like what?" he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer and she cast a wordless summoning charm. A moment later an issue of the Daily Prophet landed in her hands and she slid it across the table to him, taking a long pull on her butter beer while she let him read through the articles.

"Seriously, why can't anything ever be simple!" he burst out a few minutes later, throwing the paper on the table. "An Order of Merlin?"

"Highest award given out by our government," she explained. "It actually is quite the honor, and you definitely earned it so don't start whining about it, please."

He scowled at her and she only smirked in response until he huffed and reached out to tap the paper.

"What about this article about Black?" he asked. "What's going on with looking into that?"

"I can't tell you that," she started and his expression darkened even further for a moment before she glared at him. "I honestly can't. It's DMLE business and I can't just talk about these things. Plus, it's somewhat under the table. I'm not going through official channels since our illustrious Minister has decided that there's no way Sirius could possibly be innocent of anything. If I get caught I'll be in more trouble than I know what to deal with."

Harry felt a stab of guilt that swept away the anger and hurt he still felt over the girls admission. "I didn't want you to get in trouble," he muttered and she waved him away.

"It's not about that anymore. If he really is innocent then he needs to be exonerated. What you found lends some doubt and I wouldn't be able to sleep right if I didn't at least try to figure it out. It's my job to look into these things so I'll be doing my job and I'll thank you to leave me to it. I promise I'll keep you informed on what I can but in the meantime Black is out there. He escaped, for some reason, and we don't know what that is."

"What do we do?"

"You do nothing. Finish up your summer. Go back to school. Do not try to find Black."

"But he might-"

"No, Harry," she snapped, cutting him off. "I'm sorry, I can only imagine what this has got to be like for you but you need to leave black to me and my Aurors. I promise, I'll do my best to find out everything we can but you need to stay away from him. The ministry is convinced he'll be coming after you since they still think he's a guilty Death Eater. But even if he _is_ innocent, he still spent the last twelve years in Azakaban with the Dementors, there's no telling how sane he might be right now."

"Summer homework is finished. I'm not talking-to the girls any time soon… I need some time to think about everything. No worrying about Black. I'm not allowed to whine about the Order of Merlin… can I get bent out of shape about Skeeter and the garbage she spewed out onto paper?"

Amelia smirked at the cheeky grin he was giving her and nodded. "By all means. Hating Rita Skeeter is practically a national pastime." She stood and made her way around the table, pulling him to his feet and into a hug. "Life is never easy for you, Kid. But just take it a day at a time and you'll get there. You've got your birthday this weekend to look forward to at least."

His face split into a slightly lop sided grin at that. "Well, yeah, I am looking forward to that, at least."

Amelia wrapped one arm around his shoulder as they walked back into the house. "All right who all is coming?" she asked in a bright, cheerful tone of voice. "Neville, Hannah and Tracey… did you invite Miss Lovegood? I'm sure she'd appreciate a party…"

#####

The Floo at Greengrass Manor flared brightly and Daphne stepped out lightly into the room, absently dusting soot from her shoulders, her mind occupied with other matters. Harry's birthday was in two days. It probably wasn't the best timing, picking a day so close to his birthday to drop their scars on him, but Susan was right in that there was no real good time for such a thing. Hermione was still having nightmares and kept staring at her at the strangest times, as if she was a puzzle the other girl was trying to solve.

 _She can't possibly have heard me,_ she thought for what felt like the thousandth time. _There's no way.._

"Daphne?"

She halted suddenly as her fathers voice filled the room and looked up, her face settling easily into her mask. The sight that greeted her nearly cracked it but she simply arched one brow at the scene.

"It was a pleasure seeing you, Lucius," Lord Greengrass said, turning away from his daughter to address his guests, Lucius Malfoy and his son, Draco. "The offer is… enticing, I will admit. But as you can understand I do have other interested parties, so I can't agree to anything, just as yet."

"Of course, Cyril, I'm well aware of how the game is played," Lucius answered in a smooth, silky tone as he shook her father's hand. Draco offered his own goodbyes and Daphne smoothly moved aside, making room for them to reach the Floo. She did her best to ignore the way that the younger Malfoy was staring at her, a twisted smirk on his lips.

The fire flared into emerald green and Lucius was swept away after calling out a destination she didn't hear and as he brushed past her Draco murmured quietly under his breath, "be seeing much more of you, soon, Greengrass."

A moment later he vanished as well and she was left staring at the man that helped create her.

"Where have you been?" he demanded.

"I was over at Susan's house. We were making plans for Lord Potter's birthday party this weekend."

He said nothing but his gaze was appraising, as if weighing her answer carefully.

"Christmas," he said, finally. "You remember our agreement, daughter. Your time is running out."

With that, he turned and swept from the room, leaving Daphne standing there with an icy chill flowing through her veins despite the warmth of Summer that filled the house.

#####

The day's after the girls revealed their scars passed by in a blur for Harry. His birthday had been a lot of fun and a welcome distraction from his worries. The air had been tense between him and the girls, something their friends had noticed, but happily none had chosen to comment on the issue and they'd had a pleasant day filled with laughter, games, and good food. They'd all gotten quite a laugh out of one of his presents as well, a biting beast of a book that Hagrid had sent to him. It'd taken Harry, Neville, and the twins to corral and capture the thing, much to the rest of their friends amusement.

But distractions only lasted so long and a week later his mind was still filled, occupied by so many things that he was honestly looking forward to going back to school in a months time just to get away from everything. Not that he had any hope that he'd actually escape any of his problems, they always seemed to know exactly where to find him.

Black's escape.

The girls sharing his scars.

Them not _telling_ him about the scars. Okay, honestly he could understand their reasoning, he probably _would_ have been a complete wreck and blamed himself entirely. And to an extent, he did still blame himself, even knowing that it wasn't any of their faults, but in the end, if they hadn't been bonded to him then they never would have suffered all their lives with those ugly marks on their skin. Hermione's parents never would have feared that their daughter would be taken away from them.

In the end, nearly every problem, and every good thing in his life could come back to the bond and it was all started when Voldemort tried to kill him and instead tore his soul to pieces. Which lead his thoughts back to Black. As the story went, Black betrayed his parents, but according to his parents letters and his mum's journals, there was no way that he could have. So if he didn't, maybe he knew who did?

Harry scowled and sat up from where he'd been lying back on his bed, staring absently up at the ceiling above him with his fingers laced together behind his head. His hands dropped and curled into fists momentarily in his lap.

"I need to talk to him," he muttered. "Whether he did it or not, Black might know what happened. Who told Voldemort about that stupid prophecy? Why did he pick me? Dammit, if he was still in Azkaban, I might be able to talk to thin but he had to go and escape. And why now? After all these years why would he escape now?"

He let out a frustrated growl and punched the mattress next to him before he shoved his way out of his bed and started pacing around in his room. Sitting there thinking was just driving him crazy, he needed to get out, he needed to _do_ something. He was starting to get a handle on his magic, thankfully, Amelia had eventually asked him about the furious display of magic after the girls told him about the scars and, even though he hadn't been consciously aware of what he was doing differently at the time, it had helped him to figure out how to better manipulate his magic without a wand but he still needed a lot of practice. Maybe he should go work on his spells?

Decision made, he strode for the door and pulled it open, slipping out into the hall and making his way toward the stairs when a noise suddenly caught his attention, half way between his room and the stairs leading down to the ground floor.

He suddenly froze stock still in the middle of the hall. _What was that?_ he thought. One thing his years at the Dursleys had taught him was situational awareness. He nearly always was aware of the slightest sounds and changes in his environment and just then he'd heard…

There it was again!

A muffled sob coming from one of the nearby rooms. Amelia and Susan were both downstairs and Hermione was in France with her parents so that only left one possible source.

He took three steps and paused with his hand on the doorknob, hesitating. Should he? He didn't know if he could look her in the eye. He wasn't sure that he would be able to hide how upset he still was, how much their omission had hurt him. He could be honest enough to say that they hadn't lied, they'd told him there was something, just that they couldn't talk to him about it. While he stood there with his thoughts racing through his head the sound came again and he was suddenly moving on instinct as he opened the door and stepped into her room.

"Daphne? What's wrong?" He asked as he quickly crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed where she was lying, curled in on herself with her face buried against a pillow she held clutched in her arms.

She looked up at him, tears staining her cheeks. Reaching out to take one of her hands in his he absently rubbed small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb, barely aware of what he was doing, so focused was he on the pain and uncertainty he could see in her face and feel through their link. Her Occlumency had kept so much of her emotions at bay, but this close, and helped by the physical contact, she couldn't continue to hide her emotions from him any longer and he frowned at what he felt from her.

"I don't know what to do," she whimpered.

"About what?" he asked and she hesitated for a moment. "Tell me, Daphne. You guys dropped a hell of a bomb on me the other day and we've all been making a habit of not telling each other things that we probably should. Let's not keep falling into that mistake."

He almost felt bad over using her own guilt against her in this case, but at the same time, as upset as he was with them, as confused as he was over the entire situation, there was nothing he wouldn't do to help any of his girls, even if that meant pushing them.

When she started to talk she was hesitant, but her voice quickly grew stronger

"My father has been pushing me to get you to offer him a betrothal contract for me," she whispered. "I've told him we're too young for that, we're not even sure how we really feel about each other, but he doesn't care. Marriage in pureblood society has little to do with love and is frequently more about the political or financial benefits of the union." She was blushing brightly by the time she finished and Harry was reasonably certain he was too but focused on her voice to try to distract himself.

"Last year, during the Christmas break he gave me an ultimatum. He gave me a year to see a contract offer from you or he'd sell me off to someone else so I would no longer be his problem."

That was really not anywhere near what Harry expected to hear when he'd come into the room and it only added more worries to his already growing list but he kept himself as calm as he could and simply tried to focus on the problem.

"Not even looking at if we would want to be together or get married one day, you still have several months, what is he doing that's causing all this?" he asked with a gesture meant to take in the room and her presence there, crying alone in her bed.

"Father is… he's being entirely unreasonable, and it's only getting worse."

"What can I do?"

"I don't know Harry," she said. "I don't know that there's anything you _can_ do. There are families sniffing around. I've seen the heads of multiple different houses meeting with Father late at night and I think… I'm sure that he's trying to arrange a contract already. Something that will gain the family the most possible prestige and status at the cost of his oldest daughter," she said the last with a sneer of such disgust that he was fairly impressed she managed to convey such emotion in so few words. "The other day, when I went home after we told you about… well, when I got there, Malfoy and his father were just leaving, and the look Draco gave me…" she shuddered and he could feel the revulsion coming from her like a slick, oily sensation that made his stomach churn. "It made me sick," she admitted.

For several minutes Harry sat on the edge of the bed, holding her hand and struggling to find the words that could help all the while firmly shoving aside any thoughts of Malfoy coming anywhere near _his_ Daphne. Oh, he knew enough by then to understand he couldn't just make it better, but there had to be _something_ he could say to help calm her fears a bit so they could think out a solution.

It was times like this that he wished he had Hermione's knack for working out a problem, or Susan's warm and affectionate nature so he could properly convey how he felt to the beautiful, broken girl next to him.

 _She's broken, too,_ he thought, suddenly, straightening up as the thought popped into his head.

He shifted back in the bed so that he was sitting up with his back against the headboard and reached for her, wordlessly. Not really understanding what he was doing, but not willing to deny herself some much needed comfort and affection, she crawled over to him and sat beside him, leaning against his side with her ear pressed against his chest, her head tucked under his chin as he gently stroked her hair with one hand.

"There's this guy," he said, suddenly. "He's walking down the sidewalk one day when suddenly, he falls in a hole. It's a deep hole. Damp, dark, and the sides are slick and so steep that he can't climb his way out no matter what he does."

"Why doesn't he use his wand?" she asked.

"He dropped his wand when he fell in, now hush and let me tell the story," he gently admonished her and she smiled, unseen against his chest.

"Where was I? Oh right, so he's stuck in this hole and after a while he happens to look up and he sees an Auror walking by. 'Hey, Sir. Mister Auror,' he calls. 'Can you help me, please? I'm stuck in this hole and I can't get out.' And the Auror, he writes a spell down on a spare bit of parchment and drops it down the hole, then he walks on.

"Well, that's not gonna do the guy in the hole much good so he keeps trying to climb, keeps struggling to get out and he's just digging himself in deeper and deeper as he goes. He looks up again and sees the Minister of Magic walking by. 'Hey! Hey, Minister, I'm stuck down here in this hole, can you please help me out?' And the Minister writes out a proclamation, or a ministerial edict on a piece of parchment, drops it down the hole."

"Why won't anyone help him?" she asked, starting to calm, lulled by the sound of his voice reverberating against her ear and the deep thumping of his heart.

Harry continued talking, "finally, it's been hours, and the guy in the hole is really getting scared. He looks up and he sees an old friend of his from Hogwarts walking by. 'Joe,' he yells. 'Hey Joe, thank Merlin you're here. Look, mate, I'm stuck down here in this hole and I can't get out. I've already asked an Auror and the Minister himself but no one will help me. Can you get me out of here?' And without missing a beat, his old mate jumps down into the hole with him.

"Well, our guy turns to him and he's like, 'What are you, stupid? Now we're both stuck down here,' and his buddy, he says, 'yeah, I know. But I've been down here before, and I know the way out.'"

He fell silent for a moment, his hand never stopping the gentle stroking of her hair as he let the words sink in. "I don't know the way out, yet, Daphne. But I've been down in the dark, in the hole I can't climb out of, for a long time. For me it was a cupboard under the stairs where I was forced to sleep or locked in for hours or days at a time. For me it was my uncle, it was beatings and whippings and… well, I'm out, but I'm still there too. Some days I'm not sure I'll ever really escape it, but since I met you girls, I am starting to understand that there truly _is_ a way out, and if we work together on this, and get Hermione and Susan to help us… there's no hole, no trouble, no problem that we can't solve. There's no way that any of us will let your father do this to you if there's absolutely anything that we can do about it. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Harry." She took a deep breath, reveling in his warmth and the clean scent of him and let it out in a long sigh as her body relaxed, seeming to melt against him. "You know? You're pretty good at this," she muttered, her eyes slipping closed.

"Good at what?"

"Calming hysterical women."

He chuckled quietly. "I'd have to disagree. I can't handle crying women, scares the hell out of me. But you and Hermione and Susan, you're not just some random women. You're a part of my life and a part of me and I'll always do my best to help any one of you with anything you need."

Her fingers twitched against his chest, plucking at his shirt absently for a moment. "I'm sorry," she whispered, finally. "We didn't mean to hurt you it's just…"

"Don't worry about it," he said, gruffly cutting her off as his muscles tensed slightly beneath her in response to his emotions. "I'm still not happy about it, but it's a small concern in the long run. I'll get over it sooner or later."

They fell silent for a time, and eventually, Harry felt her relax even more against him and her breath deepened and evened out as sleep claimed her. He held her for a while longer as he thought over the situation.

When a possible solution came he had to force himself not to jump up and rush from the room. Carefully, he extricated himself from Daphne's grip and covered her with a blanket before quietly leaving the room.

Downstairs, he saw Amelia sitting at the kitchen table, looking over a stack of documents, but hesitated to involve her, yet. Finally, he found Susan sitting outside by the pool, sunning herself on one of the lounge chairs. He paused for a moment, taken aback at the amount of skin on display, and the fact that she'd obviously cast a glamour hiding all of her scars, but he shook his head and moved over toward her.

She looked over when he dropped heavily onto the chair next to her. She was about to say hello when she saw the pensive look on his face and she sat up quickly, focusing more fully on him and on their bond. "What's wrong?" she asked, searching for his feelings as well as Daphne's and Hermione's. Daphne and Hermione's both felt muted. Daphne, she guessed to be asleep but the feeling from Hermione had been that way since the day after Harry's birthday when she'd left for Paris with her parents. The distance was just enough that the bond wasn't as clear. "Are you worried about Black? We're safe here and auntie has the entire Auror force looking for him."

"No, this isn't about Black." He sighed, wishing that he could tell her his concerns on the subject but Amelia had forbidden him from saying anything as it was all tied into an active investigation and the fewer people that knew right then, the better. He was really getting sick and tired of all the secrets. He pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to stave off a headache before he lifted his head, his glowing gaze settling on her for a moment before he leaned forward and spoke in as serious a tone as he could manage.

"I need you, please, to tell me absolutely everything that you know about marriage and betrothal contracts. Daphne is in trouble, and, as angry as I am with the three of you, I'll be damned if we let anything happen to her without a fight."

#####

 **Author's Note 2.0: Hey guys, this is just to point out, the story about the guy in the hole that Harry tells to Daphne. Totally stole that from an episode of the TV show The West Wing. I paraphrased, of course. I don't remember the title of the episode in question right at the moment but if you've never seen it, find it. It's a fantastic show all about the President and Senior staff working in the West Wing of the White House. Fictional show, of course, and phenomenally written and acted. Check it out.**


	32. Time Enough?

**Author's Notes: The Rotten Writer, here again ladies and gentlemen.**

 **This took a little longer than intended but I got there in the end. A bit shorter than I wanted but here it is. This year is giving me trouble already since I realized I didn't actually outline as much for this year as Ihave the others so I've been trying to get my notes organized and get all my ideas lined up before I really dive into things. Add in some health issues and that meant a little less actual writing got done than I'd like.**

 **No worries, I'm not dropping dead anytime soon and leaving this thing unifinished. I've just had a few days where shaking hands or vision problems made writing harder than it needs to be.**

 **This year is gonna move along faster than the others also. I'm thinking another 7 to 8 chapters for the whole thing since, honestly, not as much happened this year as with the other years. So each chapter should advance through the year at a pretty steady clip so we can move things right along to fourth year.**

 **Disclaimer: I still own nothing. I'm just having fun playing in this world.**

 **Now presenting chapter 31 of Soul Scars**

Soul Scars Part Three

The Greengrass Problem

by,

Rtnwriter

Mister and Missus Danforth, of number four Privet Drive, were proud to say that they led a perfectly normal life, thank you very much. Neither of them had much desire for any excitement, preferring a calm, peaceful existence. Now, they didn't see anything wrong with someone wanting a little adventure in their own life, it just wasn't for them.

Missus Danforth worked as a clerk in a barristers office. Her duties mostly included filing paperwork, helping to prepare briefs, and, occasionally, sitting in as stenographer during a deposition. Mister Danforth worked as a project manager for a communications company, and together they managed a comfortable living. Three months previously they had moved into their new home on Privet Drive and were just starting to get used to the new setting and layout of the home.

One night, early in August, Missus Danforth was puttering about in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on dinner, when she heard her husband call for her from the living room.

"Oh, that man," she huffed in a fondly exasperated sort of way as she wiped her hands on her apron and made her way out of the kitchen. "Charles Danforth, I am not explaining how to use the VCR again. If you haven't figured it out by now then I don't think you'll ever…" Her voice trailed off as she entered the room to find her husband of twenty-seven years standing in the middle of the space, the remote for the telly held loosely in one hand as he stared at a news report on the screen.

"… the public is warned that Black is armed and should be considered extremely dangerous. A special hotline has been set up and any sightings of Black should be reported to the immediately to the authorities."

Missus Danforth shivered at the sight of the picture of the escaped convict that accompanied the report. Six feet tall, gaunt, with dark eyes that appeared sunken in his skull. He wore an expression on his face that she couldn't readily identify, but something about it set off alarm bells in some deep, primitive part of her brain. All of his lay beneath a tangled and matted mass of elbow length black hair that finished off the job of giving him a wild, almost feral appearance.

The reporters moved on to a different story, but she didn't really notice as the thought of the picture and the haunted look in the man's eyes. Something about him had seemed so… _sad_ , to her, despite simultaneously appearing quite dangerous as well and she couldn't shake the feeling that there was much more that wasn't being said about Sirius Black.

Finally, she tuned back into reality to find her husband ranting at the telly and the distinct lack of information imparted, such as where Black had escaped from or where he'd last been seen.

"… could be coming up the sidewalk outside right now for all we know!" he practically bellowed before she took his arm and calmed him, directing him out of the room and toward the kitchen.

"Come, Dear," she said. "Dinner is ready and you know the doctor warned you about your blood pressure…"

She trailed off, again, as they entered the kitchen and she noticed that she and her husband were no longer the only people in their home. Sitting at the small dinette table, a plate of her turkey tetrazzini in front of him, was the very figure they'd just been discussing. His hair looked even more wild than in the photo they'd seen, bits of bark, twigs, and leaves stuck in it and he appeared even more skeletal as well. The strange grey robes he wore were torn, tattered, and blood stained in places and above the low neckline black marks, tattoos, could be seen against pale and waxy skin.

He held a spoon in one hand where he'd been shoveling food into his mouth and in his other hand a polished length of dark wood that was raised and pointed directly toward the two of them. He muttered something that she didn't hear and suddenly Missus Danforth found herself completely unable to move, unable to speak, frozen in place, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. She found that she could breathe, and her eyes could move to look around, but that was it.

The figure at the table, Black, finished chewing the food that was in his mouth, set down both the spoon and the piece of wood, before he wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin and set it in his lap as he turned his dark eyes back to them.

"I promise, I have absolutely no desire to hurt you," he said, his voice raspy and hoarse, as if from disuse, or perhaps from damage to his vocal cords. "I swear it, I just wish to ask some questions." He waved the piece of wood in their direction and, suddenly, Missus Danforth could move her head and her mouth, which had been frzen open, snapped shut, nearly biting her tongue in her surprise. A moment later she opened her mouth to scream and he waved the stick again before she could. When she screamed out, silence followed, and she stopped, blinking in surprise.

"I have silenced you so you can't scream," he told them. "Please, I swear that you are perfectly safe. I have also silenced this room, much like I silenced you so screaming won't do you any good, no one will hear you."

He waited a moment before he waved the stick again and she tentatively opened her mouth when nothing seemed to happen.

"W-what do you want?" she whimpered in terror.

"I just have some questions. That's all. As soon as we talk I will leave and you will both be perfectly safe and healthy, I promise."

She turned to look at her husband who still appeared to be completely frozen, his eyes moving frantically but nothing else even as his breath rushed harshly through his nose, in and out, panting like a bull.

"What d-d-did you w-want to know?" she stammered out a moment later after turning back to look at the man in their home.

He leaned forward in his seat at the table, his elbows resting on either side of his plate, an eager glint in his eyes as he stared at her.

"I want to know everything you know about Harry Potter."

#####

Glowing emerald green eyes opened slowly and Harry stared up at the canopy above his bed feeling feverish and almost gasping for breath for several moments before he groaned and tilted his head, looking down the length of his body at the mass of orange fur on his chest.

"Crookshanks," he groaned out. "Why do you keep doing this?" The huge half-kneazle with the squashed face didn't answer and simply slept on, purring contentedly in his spot on Harry's chest. He sighed and looked back up toward the canopy as he considered if it was worth the risk of getting scratched to attempt to move the beast.

It had happened during their trip to collect their school supplies at Diagon Alley the week before. Hermione had been more excited than he'd seen her in some time when she met them there with her parents and told them she was looking to get a familiar as an early birthday present. At the Magical Menagerie, where they ran into several of thr Weasley clan, she'd found her pet, right after the creature had attempted to eat Ron's rat, Scabbers. Of course, the twins had found the entire thing hilarious and even Daphne had smirked at the rodent's misfortune, but Ron had been incensed and Harry had come close to punching the git again when he'd mouthed off at Hermione after she'd come out of the shop, the massive bundle of fur clutched tightly in her arms.

Returning from his trip down memory lane, Harry fought his way out from under the small tiger that was Crookshanks, somehow managing to avoid getting scratched for his troubles and stood, stretching languidly as he made his way to the bathroom to get started on his day. It was September 1st, and they would be leaving at 10 o'clock that morning for the Floo to the Express Platform. Amelia decided that she didn't want to risk the possibility that Dobby or someone else might decide to interfere with the barrier from King's Cross again. They still had no idea how the little elf had even managed that either.

Harry let his mind wander as he went about his morning rivals, casting his mind back over the last few weeks. The month of August had seemed to fly by, and Harry still hadn't decided if that was a good thing, or not. On the one hand, he was looking forward to getting back to school and continuing to learn more about magic and spend time with his friends that he didn't get to see as often during the summer months. On the other hand, he didn't want the lazy summer days to end.

Of course, August had been less than lazy. He scowled as he thought over the tense atmosphere that had filled the house since he'd learned the girls big secret. Daphne and Hermione came over as often as ever and they still spent time together but the easy companionship they'd shared seemed a thing of the past. They all walked on egg shells around him, as if afraid to draw his attention. He was still more than a little annoyed with the three of them, not for hiding the scars, but for their insistence on his opening up to them while they appeared to be purposely keeping themselves closed off from him.

It hurt, this break in their friendship. It bothered him at a deep level, but he was determined not to be the one to break first. If they wanted to make amends, if they truly wanted to be friends then they were going to have to come to him. They would need to open up and let him in just as they'd been pushing him to do if they wanted him to trust them again.

He shut off the shower and stepped out, drying himself with a wave of his hand as he went about getting dressed and brushing his teeth. A glance in the mirror showed that his hair had gotten a lot longer during the summer, brushing past his ears and even against his shirt collar at the back of his neck. He'd considered getting it cut but decided to hold off for a bit since he found that the added length made it a _bit_ easier to manage by running a brush through it. It still remained a hopeless mess but it appeared to be slightly more organized chaos to him than the complete anarchy it was before.

Shower done, teeth and hair brushed, and dressed in a pair of black slacks and a black button down shirt, he pulled on his dragon hide boots and considered himself ready to go. He had packed his school trunk the night before and had everything else ready to go including a small back pack with his school uniform packed into it that he could change into and a few books to read during the trip. Another wave of his hand to cast a tempus charm told him that it was barely eight o'clock in the morning and he sighed in resignation when he realized that he had nothing to do but wait.

Grabbing his bag and shrinking his trunk, he slipped the trunk into his pocket and made his way downstairs and into the kitchen were a plate filled with a steaming breakfast and a cup of coffee appeared in front of him the moment he sat down to Amelia's left.

"Morning," he said, smiling as he put his sugar and salt into his coffee. As she did every time, Amelia simply shook her head in continued bemusement over his habit and wished him a good morning, as well.

"Got everything ready?" she asked and he nodded.

"Even packed the broomstick servicing kit Hermione gave me for my birthday, I figure I'll need it for this years quidditch season."

"Good thinking."

"And thanks for teaching me that shrinking charm, too. That came in really handy. I was able to put my broom and Hedwig's cage in my trunk before shrinking the whole thing."

She gave him a small nod but said nothing else, instead turning her attention back to her breakfast and Harry couldn't help but give her a confused look. Amelia was usually more conversational than that, and something about it didn't sit right with him. A heavy feeling settled in his gut and he knew, he just knew, that there was some bad news on the horizon.

They ate quietly until both had finished and then they simply sat at the table in silence. Harry poured himself a second cup of coffee and pulled a book from his bag, reading quietly until, one at a time, the girls arrived at the table.

Susan showed up first, of course, with her bag slung over her shoulder and no sign of her trunk. Harry figured she'd either shrunk it or had left it up in her room for Binky to bring down later. She greeted them both cheerfully but their demeanor quickly brought her down and she gave Harry a concerned look, shooting a glance at her aunt to which he could only shrug.

Daphne was next to arrive with Hermione only a handful of minutes after her.

"I left my trunk in the Floo room," she said as she took one of the empty seats at the table and loaded up her plate. "Thank you, very much, Aunt Amy for letting me come with you guys. Mum and Dad had a full day booked today that they couldn't rearrange. They send their thanks also."

Amelia simply nodded, giving her a small smile and turned her attention back to her issue of the Daily Prophet which had arrived somewhere between Susan and Daphne showing up at the table. She also shot a confused look at the others and Harry had finally had enough.

"Oh, just spit it out already, please," he burst out, causing the girls to jump and Amelia to arch a brow in his direction over her paper. "I'm sorry but you're not acting like yourself. You've got something to tell us and we're not going to like it, let's just get it over with so we can move on. Please?" he tried, lowering his tone so it didn't seem like he was snapping at her.

She sighed and set down the paper, giving him a chagrined smile.

"You're more perceptive than I thought, Harry. I'm sorry, you're right, I do have something to say that I'm sure you won't like, and I am sorry but I have to consider your safety and well being." She took a deep breath, letting it out in a long sigh before straightening up even more in her seat. "Sirius Black was spotted on Privet Drive a week ago," she said.

Harry was struck dumb, his mouth falling open even as the girls started and shot him a look.

"What?"

"He broke into number 4 Privet Drive and interrogated the current residents. They bought the home about three months ago, a Mister and Missus Danforth."

"What did he want?"

"He was looking for you. He placed them in body binds and then freed the wife enough for her to answer questions while he sat at their kitchen table eating the dinner that Missus Danforth had cooked." She looked directly at him, her face set and impassive as she did her best to impress upon him the seriousness of the situation. "Harry, every question he asked was related to you. He wanted to know everything they knew about you. Where you were. When you stopped living there. Why you stopped living there.

"The Minister has decided to place Dementors at Hogwarts. This incident proves that Black is trying to find you, Harry, and Fudge has set them to guard the school in case Black tries to get into the school to get at you."

"But he's not-"

"We don't _know_ that, Harry!" she snapped, cutting him off before he could get going. "I know you want to believe it, and I really hope you're right, but we just don't know right now. His behavior is suspect, at best, and you know that Fudge doesn't believe there's any doubt. He won't hear anything about it."

"So everyone in the school has to deal with Dementors being around because of me? Hogwarts is supposed to be the safest place in all of Britain, why would the Dementors be needed?"

"Dumbledore and I have both argued the same thing but the Minister will not be moved and we don't have any authority to override him in this. The Dementors _will_ be there and there's nothing that any of us can do about that."

Harry fumed, angrily glaring at her but it was like a river parting against a rock. She was unmoved, untouched by his ire.

"Look, I don't have any control over their placement. That's not my fault so you can stow this attitude until I do something you can honestly be upset with me about," she snapped and he sat back in his seat, feeling more than a little ashamed of himself, until she kept speaking, "which leads me to my next bit of bad news. I'm sorry, but I won't be signing your, or Susan's permission slips to visit Hogsmeade this year-"

She was cut off as Harry and Susan both blew up at that. They were silenced a moment later when she lifted her wand and a loud canon blast tore through the kitchen, stunning them both completely.

"I understand you're upset. In your place, at your age, I would be upset too. Unfortunately, as we've _been_ discussing, Black is out there and we don't know what he wants other than he's interested in you," she said, stabbing a finger in Harry's direction. "Now, because of that I do not feel it could be safe for you to leave the protections of the castle in order to go to the village and I'm sorry if that upsets you but I am your guardian, I am responsible for you safety and that is my decision to make."

"What about Susan?" he asked after fuming for a few more moments. "There's no reason for Black to be looking for her."

"Except it was announced in the Prophet that the four of you are bonded," Amelia pointed out. "Honestly, if I had anything to say about it none of you would be going to the village until after Black is caught and we can be sure things are safe. But I don't have any control over Hermione's or Daphne's parents." She turned and glanced at the two named girls, questioningly.

"Mum and daddy wouldn't sign my slip either," Hermione muttered. "They explained it all to me this morning."

"My father signed my permission slip," Daphne admitted, pulling the folded piece of parchment from inside her robes. "Honestly, he seemed happy to do so."

"Probably hoping something horrible happens to you," Harry groused, his ire switching in an instant from Amelia to the ever problematic Cyril Greengrass. To his surprise, Daphne simply nodded in agreement and tucked the parchment away again.

"I'm very sorry, kids," Amelia said, drawing their attention back to them again. "I know you were looking forward to this, and honestly, if it wasn't for this situation with Black I wouldn't have any problems with it, but until we know for sure, it's simply too dangerous. You all seem to find yourselves in enough trouble as it is, we don't need to go inviting more."

"So you're just going to ignore the evidence I brought you?" Harry snapped, the cutlery on the table near him vibrating quietly.

"I'm not _ignoring_ anything, Harry!" she barked, glaring at him furiously. "I'm doing the best I can with the situation I've been given. I'm sorry if that's not instant gratification enough for you, but without solid, concrete proof, there's only so much I can do."

Harry shrank back in his seat, the cutlery falling still as he suddenly felt like kicking himself, repeatedly. Amelia had gone far out of her way to make him feel welcomed and safe and the first time things didn't really go his way this was how he decided to treat her?

"I'm sorry," he nearly whispered, staring down at the table in front of him.

"I understand you're frustrated, Harry, but that doesn't give you the right to take that out on the rest of us, okay?" she tried after a minute of silence stretched between them and he nodded his head in response.

There wasn't much discussion to be had after that and before long they gathered together their belongings, Harry running back up to his room to retrieve the Sword that he'd forgotten on the coffee table, and they all set off through the Floo for Kings Cross.

#####

"Is it true, Potter? You actually fainted?"

A part of Harry wanted to turn and tear into Malfoy as the Slytherin's delighted words reached them, but he was honestly still too shaken to truly care about someone as petty and childish as Draco Malfoy. In fact, even after the chocolate he'd eaten on the train, he still felt cold and clammy and it was taking everything he had simply to put one foot in front of the other.

"Shove off, Malfoy!" Neville snarled from somewhere behind Harry and the growing cadre of girls that seemed to surround them. Harry's three girls flanked him, as usual, they looking a little worse for wear themselves. Luna had come into the compartment with them just after the Dementor was driven off and, the moment they'd stepped off the train, Tracey and Hannah had fallen into step with the group as they worked their way toward the carriages. Daphne's little sister, Astoria, had started over toward the boats after giving her sister a hug and casting a long, concerned look in Harry's direction.

"You really might want to watch what you attempt to mock others for, Draco," Blaise said as he walked up to them, interrupting the growing argument that had broken out between Neville and Malfoy, "or someone might just let slip you _you_ reacted to the Dementor."

Malfoy spluttered and blustered for a moment but eventually stalked off, scowling angrily at anyone and everyone as he went.

"Thanks, guys," Harry muttered quietly when Blaise fell into step with the rest of them.

"No problem, Lord Potter. It might surprise you to learn that not many of us Slytherins actually like the arrogant little tosser either."

Harry let out a dry chuckle. "Draco Malfoy," he said. "Promoting House unity through a mutual hatred of him."

Weak laughter rose from the group for a moment but it wasn't quite enough to cut through the lingering effects of the horrific creature they'd so recently encountered.

"Blaise?" he asked a few moments later.

"Lord Potter?"

"If we're supposed to be trying to be friends you should probably call me Harry."

Blaise smiled, a small curving of his lips that one might have missed if they weren't looking for it. On the usually stoic boy's face it amounted to a beaming grin on anyone else.

"Sounds good to me, Harry."

They fell silent after that until they got into the carriages, Harry taking one with his girls while Neville, Hannah, Tracey, Luna, and Blaise took another. In their carriage, none of them really felt much like talking. Drenched from the pouring rain outside and still raw from their encounter, they simply sank themselves into the bond, attempting to share whatever soothing feelings they could during the ten or fifteen minute trip up to the castle.

While they waited, Harry found himself sinking into the memories of the day as the world around him fell away.

#####

Amelia and the girls each stepped lightly from the fireplace at Kings Cross and quickly moved to the side, smothering grins as the fire flared up again and Harry came sliding out on his back, tumbling a dozen or so feet before he finally came to a stop on the platform. He sprang quickly to his feet, wincing slightly at the new bruises he was likely to have, all the while cursing under his breath about every form of magical travel he'd yet to encounter that wasn't a broom.

Without a word, Amelia waved her wand, banishing the soot from their clothes and with a few quiet words wished them a good year and reminded Harry, again, not to go looking for Sirius Black. After promising to write, the four of them hefted their bags with Hermione lugging a cat carrier that contained a seething ball of orange fur and barely contained rage, and made their way onto the train, quickly taking to the same compartment they'd used for the previous two years, the very last compartment on the very last car.

When Harry pulled open the door he turned quickly and motioned the girls to be quiet before he stepped into the compartment and pointed to the older, scruffy looking man that was sleeping in the far corner.

"Wonder who he is," he muttered after they were all in and had made themselves comfortable.

"Professor R. J. Lupin," Hermione said, matter of factly.

"Think he's the new Defense Professor?"

"Only vacant post at the school, Susan," Hermione said with a shrug. "He must be."

Harry had started at the name and his head whipped around to look at the bushy haired witch beside him. "How do you know his name is Lupin?" he asked, almost demanded, actually, and she gave him a strange look but simply pointed to a battered and beaten leather case sitting in the overhead rack above the sleeping man. On one corner the words _Professor R. J. Lupin_ could be seen in peeling letters.

Harry stared, rather intently, at the shabby figure in the corner for some time before he was finally drawn into conversation after Neville, Hannah, and Tracey arrived in their now very full compartment. The day proceeded in a quiet, lazy manner. Reading was the activity of choice for the majority of them, as it was something that could be done quietly so they didn't risk waking their new professor.

It wasn't until after the snack lady trundled by with her cart that anything really unusual happened to break up the course of their day.

The door slid open, noisily, and they all glanced toward the door as Draco Malfoy stood framed in the doorway. With his customary sneer in place, Malfoy glanced at each of them for a moment before dismissing them, one by one, until his eyes landed on Daphne.

"Greengrass," he said. "I have a compartment further up the train, one less… crowded, than this."

Daphne groaned, mentally, even as she felt all three of her bond mates tense and glare at the Slytherin and his bodyguards.

"Good for you to have such emptiness available to you. It leads one to question what possible reason you might have had to leave such comfort to come here, where your presence is neither needed or wanted," she said in as icy a tone of voice as anyone had ever heard her use before.

"I wouldn't be here voluntarily. My only purpose is to collect you so you can come sit with me in our compartment. I'm sure your father instructed you to do so, just as mine did," he said, evenly. Harry had to admit, somewhere deep down, that he was almost impressed that Malfoy had managed to keep his composure so well in the face of the cold indifference from Daphne.

"My father does not dictate where I go or who I speak to. Especially since he and I already have an arrangement, the deadline of which has not been reached," she tried, well aware that it wouldn't likely work.

"You seem to be belaboring under the mistaken impression that you have a choice in this matter, Greengrass," he said, sneer firmly back in place. "You know better than to disobey your head of house. He has ordered that you spend time with me while our fathers negotiate, so you'll obey your future husband and come with me. Now."

"Malfoy?" Harry cut in, carefully hiding his anger behind his growing Occlumency shields. "Get out, before you get hurt."

"This has nothing to do with House Potter," Malfoy shot back. "This situation is between House Greengrass and House Malfoy and you cannot interfere, _Lord_ Potter. I would have thought that your friends would have taught you that much about your place in our society." He spoke the word 'Lord' with as much derision as he could, almost making it sound like an insult.

Harry scowled at the irritating boy, but couldn't think of anything to refute him. Harry might have been higher on the social ladder than Malfoy, but the rules were clear. Negotiations of any kind between two Houses could not be interfered with by a third House. Harry thought to mention that Daphne already had orders from her father to get him to offer a betrothal contract for her, but they weren't in any formal negotiations so that wouldn't work either.

His hands were starting to shake as he got angrier and angrier with the smug git but a hand on his shoulder calmed him immediately.

"It's okay, Harry," Daphne told him, leaning down until she could whisper in his ear.

"You don't have to go anywhere with him," he practically snarled back in a low angry tone. "This isn't right."

"No," Neville spoke up, glaring at Malfoy but speaking to Harry. "No, it isn't right, Harry, but it is how our society works, for now." He finally turned away from the blond Slytherin and looked at Daphne. "Heiress Greengrass, if you don't mind us knowing, what exactly was the wording of Lord Greengrass' orders to you?"

"I am to take opportunities to get to know the Malfoy Heir better, until such time as either my father and Mister Malfoy complete contract negations, or until a better offer is put forward," she added the last with a glance at Harry out of the corner of her eye who continued to sit there on the bench seat with his hands balled into white knuckled fists on his thighs.

"Come along, Greengrass," Malfoy cut in again with a triumphant grin on his face. "The School Charter states that you have to sit at your own table at tonight's feast, but expect to sit with me at the Slytherin table for every meal starting tomorrow morning."

"Nothing, in her father's orders implies a specific amount of time, or number of meetings she is required to spend with you, Malfoy," Neville shot back. "She'll follow her father's orders, but at her own discretion."

Before anyone else could move or say anything Daphne was moving across the compartment. "Someone please make sure that my trunk is kept safe until the elves can take it up to our dorm," she said, flatly as she stopped a foot away from the Slytherin. Malfoy smirked again and moved to the side, letting Daphne move ahead of him out of the compartment. When she stepped past he set his hand against the small of her back, half his hand slipping over her bum, as if to steer her from the compartment and Harry shot to his feet, the windows rattling furiously behind him as anger fueled power welled out of him.

Before he did anything more than that, Daphne spun, her left hand flashing out to catch the Malfoy Heir across the face with a slap so hard that his head whipped to his left on his neck, his pale cheek blooming with an angry red hand print in a matter of moments.

"My father's orders also did not include letting you put your disgusting hands on me," she snarled, furiously. "If you want to keep your hands attached to your body, then I suggest you keep them to yourself from now on."

Half the compartment sniggered at that, almost wishing Malfoy would try something, just to see what happened to him and the blonds storm grey eyes hardened as he glared at Daphne, one hand coming up to gently rub his abused cheek.

"Trust me, Heiress Greengrass," he hissed. "I will be writing to my father, and soon enough Lord Greengrass _will_ be changing that part of your orders. When he does, you will be exceedingly sorry that you just did that."

Nothing else was said and within moments, Malfoy, his ever present bookends, and Daphne had disappeared down the train. Neville stood and closed the compartment door, ignoring how it and the windows continued to rattle in their frames until Hermione reached out and gently placed a hand on Harry's forearm, pushing soothing emotions toward him through their bond until the light in his eyes dimmed, the loose items stopped shaking, and the eddies of power slowly receded back into his tightly wound frame as Hermione coaxed him back into his seat, barely holding back her own fury at the entire situation. She, Susan, and Harry had spent nearly a month thinking over Daphne's situation since she'd finally told Harry about it, reading everything they could find on the matter, the laws in question and how they worked, and so far, short of Harry actually offering a contract of his own, they hadn't yet found anything that they felt could really help their bond mate.

"Just great," Neville muttered. "Malfoy has finally figured out that his tackle has more uses than just taking a piss."

"Neville!" Hermione blurted out, somehow managing to look both embarrassed and disgusted at the same time.

"It's true, Hermione," he shot back, completely unrepentant for his crass language. "Lord Greengrass _could_ conceivably give Malfoy all kinds of authority over Daphne and she'd have no choice but to obey or risk being cast out of her family."

"Well it sounds like that'd be the better alternative, under the circumstances."

"To you, it would," Susan offered. "To someone not raised in our society that would make sense. But to a pureblood, losing your family is just about one of the worst things that can happen to you. Being cast out she'd be dropped to the bottom rung, below the bottom rung, even. When she's out of school it'd be almost impossible for her to find work. She'd have problems finding any man to be her husband, at least not a good one."

"But she doesn't-"

"That's how things would normally operate. Our situation is different, but not a guarantee," Susan cut her off, her eyes shooting toward Harry, who was staring distractedly at the floor in front of his feet as he took long, deep breaths to calm himself. Susan shot Hermione a look and mouthed 'later' to the bushy haired witch, to which, Hermione frowned but grudgingly nodded.

"Well… I'm fairly certain that things like that didn't happen when _I_ was still in school."

As one, the group of six students turned to look at the no longer sleeping figure in the corner of their compartment. He was now sitting up, amber colored eyes open and staring intently at the lot of them.

"First time I've heard of it happening either, Professor Lupin," Harry muttered, looking up finally at the sound of the man's rough voice. "But, I'm still new to the wizarding world, really, so I can't say how common it might actually be."

The man blinked, his sharp eyes settling firmly on Harry.

"How did you know my name?" he asked and Harry shrugged, pointing up at the case in the luggage rack above him.

"You're Remus Lupin, right?" he asked and the man nodded. "I have my mother's journals from her time at school and some letters written by her and my dad. You were mentioned a lot but she sometimes called you Moony?"

The professor's lips curved into a small, sad smile and he nodded. "Yeah, that was a nickname that your dad gave me, actually. He, Peter, Sirius, and I were all best friends throughout our school years and after."

Harry opened his mouth to ask about Sirius Black when the train suddenly shuddered and started to slow, causing many to grab onto whatever solid object they could reach to keep from being thrown from their seats as confused voices started to echo up and down the length of the train.

"What's going on?" Neville asked, standing to peer out of the frosted over window into the dark outside the train.

"We can't be there already."

Harry sat there in between Susan and Hermione. He was vaguely aware that he could see his breath in the suddenly frigid air in front of him and a shudder ran through his body that had absolutely nothing to do with the cold.

A moment later the lights went out and seconds after that he descended into his own, personal darkness, screams echoing loudly in his ears.

#####

He shuddered, opening his eyes in the carriage as he felt it slow upon approaching the castle. Before any of his girls could question the sudden tremor that ran through his body he pushed himself to his feet, hunched over to avoid hitting his head on the roof of the carriage, and shoved the door open, jumping out to land with a thud in the dirt even before the carriage had come to a stop.

He straightened up, looking around absently as his breath fogged in the chill air and he was nearly instantly soaked to the skin by the rain that had begun pouring down in icy sheets just after they'd left the station.

"Harry!" Hermione blurted out, clattering down the steps leading into the carriage after him, her wand already in hand and moving as she cast water repelling charms and a warming charm at him. "It's pouring and freezing out here," she admonished and he gave her a blank look for a moment before looking up at the rain.

"I didn't notice," he said, ignoring the looks the other girls cast in his direction as they joined him and Hermione in the rain. Together, the five of them made their way into the castle, only to stop when Professor McGonagall approached..

"You four," she said in her usual brusque manner as she gestured to Harry and the girls. "I need you to come with me. Lord Longbottom, do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?" she asked. "I understand you were in the compartment as well with that foul creature?" The disapproval in her expression and tone had never been more obvious, showing just what she felt about the idea of the Dementors.

"No, I'm fine, Professor, thanks," Neville offered, even if his smile looked a bit shaky.

"There will be hot chocolate available at tonights feast," she told him. "I suggest you partake of a glass. If you could be on your way in, I need to borrow your friends for a moment but they will be with you in plenty of time for the start of the feast."

"See you inside, guys," Neville told them as he moved around the professor, giving a little wave before he disappeared into the Great Hall.

"If you'll please follow me?" Professor McGonagall said and led the way to her office, the four teens trailing along behind her, Harry still so lost in thought that they'd already reached and stepped inside of an empty classroom before he'd even noticed. Standing by the teachers desk was a figure wearing a grey colored cloak with the hood up, their face cast in deep shadows so complete that nothing could be seen within the hood.

Immediately the hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled and he felt his body tense in apprehension and, without thinking, he raised his hand toward the figure, ready to cast any number of spells at a moments notice.

"No need for that, Lord Potter," the figure said. The voice was strange, neither masculine or feminine in a way that he couldn't define and a memory ripped across the front of his mind after a moment's hesitation.

"You're an Unspeakable.' It wasn't a question and the figure didn't answer.

"Please, take a seat for a moment," their Head of House said, waving to four chairs that had been moved in front of the desk while she moved around and sat behind it. As they took their seats, she pulled several pieces of parchment from within her robes and laid them out on the desk.

"Before we begin, Madam Pomfrey would have my hide if I did not ask if any of you needed some chocolate after your ordeal on the train?"

The four of them shook their heads.

"Professor Lupin already gave us some," Susan told her and Professor McGonagall quirked a small smile.

"Well, it is good to see that our Defense Professor this year appears to have already proven himself worthy of the title." She shuffled the parchment, her expression smoothing out into her usual stern countenance and fixed the four of them with a sharp look. "This is Director Croaker," she said, indicating the figure standing next to her. "Head of the Department of Mysteries. They are here due to a… request that the school made of the department."

"Miss Granger. Are you aware that, by signing up for every elective, there is no way that you could actually _attend_ every class during the year?"

Hermione blinked, startled to be addressed directly and slowly shook her head. "No… um, Director," she said, hesitating for a moment over how to address the cloaked figure. "I wasn't aware of that. I assumed that the classes wouldn't interfere with each other. I mean, I can't be the only student that has ever signed up for all of them before."

"It happens far less frequently than you might imagine, Miss Granger," the professor said in a deadpan tone of voice. "In fact, I believe it has only happen three times in the past century, and the answer is usually a fairly simple request of the Department of Mysteries."

"Normally," Croaker took up the explanation, "under these circumstances, we would assess the student and if they appear capable of handling the load and the stress, we would assign them a time turner to use, under very strict guidelines."

Daphne and Susan started but Harry and Hermione both had blank expressions on their faces.

"As I see that at least half of you have no idea what I'm talking about, I shall explain." Croaker reached into their robes and pulled out a necklace. Dangling on the end of the very long chain was a ring of gold and within that ring hung a tiny hourglass. "This is a time turner. When the chain is worn around your neck and you turn the hourglass, for each turn you will travel backwards in time one hour. With this, you would be able to attend all of your classes during the year however you would have to agree to some restrictions. Namely, you cannot use it for personal reasons, only to attend class. You cannot allow anyone else to know that you have this item in your possession. Finally, you cannot allow your past self to see your future self under any circumstances."

The four teens shared a look. Hermione seemed almost giddy, practically quivering in her seat with the effort of restraining the torrent of questions that wanted to spill forth from her mouth while her bond mates all appeared concerned.

"I'm sensing a 'but' coming," Harry said, turning back to the Director.

"Very astute, Lord Potter. The 'but' in question is, that we do not know how this would affect your bond."

"How do you mean?"

The Director shrugged. "The situation is unprecedented. If Miss Granger were to travel back in time an hour, would she still feel the connection to the four of you, after being temporally displaced? Would your past selves feel the connection to the presence of her future self? Would it possibly damage the bond in some way by stressing the connection over the course of an entire school year?" They shrugged again. "We have no way of knowing. On the one hand, I'd be fascinated to find out. But on the other hand, I would not want to put any of you at risk just for the sake of an experiment."

"You're too kind," Harry muttered sarcastically.

"I'm sure you wouldn't be telling us all this unless you had some options for us to consider?" Daphne said, joining in on the conversation for the first time.

"You have three choices. One, Miss Granger takes the risk, and the time turner, and uses it to attend her classes. Two, all four of you sign up for every elective and use it together, as that would possibly present the least risk amongst the options that include the use of the time turner."

"The third option," Professor McGonagall interjected. "Is that you decline the option of using the time turner and we will have to see about making arrangements with your professors. You could alternate days where you attend the classes with conflicting schedules and collect your assignments after class from those that you must skip for that day. If you have any friends in the classes they could help you by taking notes or studying with you on the lessons skipped as well. Personally, I feel this to be the best option, but the choice is, ultimately, yours."

#####

Quiet footsteps echoed softly along the dimly lit corridor located deep beneath the Ministry of Magic. Cloth whispered against cloth as a long, grey cloak swayed with the motions of the body beneath it. One gloved hand reached out and grasped the knob of a thick mahogany door, twisting and pulling the door open in one smooth motion.

"Director. How did things go at Hogwarts?" Mink asked as Croaker stepped into his office and let the door swing shut behind him.

"It went well enough, I suppose." Croaker dropped into the chair behind his desk and leaned back, reaching beneath his hood to rub at his tired, aching eyes. Maybe he was getting too old for this job? He was definitely feeling too damn tired for it, at the least.

When he lowered his hand, he noted that Sable and Mink were both standing on the other side of his desk, hoods of their own cloaks turned in his direction. He could only imagine that they were eyeing him, curiously as their faces were still properly obscured.

"Were you able to glean anything from the subjects?"

Croaker shook his head.

"No, whatever is going on with this bond of theirs, however it operates, passive charms and scans aren't going to be enough to give us any information. We'll definitely need to secure their cooperation in order to take active scans." He sat up and leaned forward, setting his elbows on the surface of his desk. "We're still getting copies of the scans done by Pomfrey, right?"

"Well…" Sable and Mink turned toward each other for a moment before turning back toward him. "We have copies of all the scans they did during the last school year, but there haven't been any new scans yet, this year. Dirk assures us that they'll get the copies sent, however."

Croaker let out a grunt. "Good enough, I suppose," he said. "Has there been _any_ progress on your research projects?" he asked and Mink nodded.

"Some," they said. "Though not nearly enough." Mink reached within their cloak and pulled out a sheet of parchment that they handed over. "I finally found an undamaged copy of the Hydra information that I already showed you. However, this one is still missing the bottom half of the parchment, just like the last was, so whatever else is supposed to be there, we have no clue."

Croaker nodded and set the parchment down on his desk without looking at it.

"Wee need to know what the whole thing says, as soon as possible," Croaker pressed. "Still no sign of the Soul Bond records?"

Mink shook their head. "It is quite clear, now, that those records were intentionally removed. All that is left is the usual uncorroborated kind of information that the general public has access to. Unfortunately, I still can't say _when_ that happened. It could have been any time in the last six-hundred years and there is just now way to determine when or how."

"Keep your people on it, but it's not our main priority, at the moment. Step up your search on The Hydra, though," he ordered and Mink nodded once before turning and leaving the office.

Sable hummed quietly for a moment after the door closed again.

"You think this Hydra has something to do with the Potter boy and his girls, don't you, Director?"

Croaker arched a brow beneath his hood.

"Listen to this," he said as he picked up the parchment that Mink had handed over and started to read:

" _The Hydra will rise_

 _Four strong and immortal_

 _The beast of one and many must stand united_

 _Scarred and broken, the sword will fight_

 _Scarred and determined, knowledge will save_

 _Scarred and damaged, the shield will protect_

 _Scarred and loyal, the faithful will heal_

 _The sword will break_

 _Knowledge will fall_

 _The shield will shatter_

 _The faithful will suffer_

 _Death will come for The"_

Croaker trailed off and set the parchment down, turning his full attention back to his oldest friend.

"I don't think this Hydra has something to do _with_ Lord Potter and his young ladies. I think the four of them _are_ The Hydra."

"How could that be?" Sable asked. "A hydra is a creature with multiple heads. If you cut one head, off two more will grow back. That's fairly well known. Hell, it's even a well known story in the muggle world."

"And what is well known is always true and accurate?" Croaker shot back. "I've seen the old records. A hydra is simply a reference to a being that is both singular and multiple. Yes, some of them were the big lizard that people are familiar with. But in a way, Potter and those girls are also a Hydra. When their bond is complete, they will almost technically be one being, but they are still separate individuals at the same time."

"'Four strong and immortal, the beast of one and many must stand united'," Sable suddenly quoted. "Not united as in working together or of a single purpose, you mean united as in the bond uniting their souls into one?"

"The early reports from Hogwarts had their souls separate from each other, even though pieces resided within each body. The last report showed the souls starting to grow and mix together. I think that when they finally complete the bond they'll have one soul spread out between four bodies."

"What is this?" Sable asked. "Why the sudden interest in it?"

"This is important. I don't know exactly how, yet, but I don't want to be blindsided by something in the future," Croaker explained, tapping the piece of parchment with one finger. "You know how little stock I take in the interpretation of prophecy, even if we do house all those that are made here in the Department. This is no prophecy. This is a warning. A warning given before the founders of Hogwarts lived by an Oracle."

"Isn't that just another kind prophecy?"

"Not exactly," Croaker disagreed, smiling at his old friends question, even if he knew the expression wouldn't be seen from within his hood. "The difference might seem like a small one, but it is vitally important. Prophecies, as given by a Seer is only a glimpse of a possible future and states events that may or may not happen, wrapped in verse that is largely open to interpretation. There are any dozens of ways prophecies could be fulfilled and each interpretation is just as likely as the next, until it actually happens and can be looked at in hindsight."

"And Oracles?"

"Are not much open to interpretation. They state things far more clearly, for the most part, excepting a bit of flowery prose now and then. And there is no escaping them. A prophecy can be avoided or circumvented. An Oracles warning is true telling of events, because an Oracle doesn't see possible futures as a Seer does, an Oracle tells of what has already happened."

Croaker couldn't see it, but he knew that Sable was giving him a confused look.

"But… how does an Oracle tell of something that has already happened when it's in the future? By definition it hasn't happened yet."

Croaker shrugged. "Search me. That's just how it was explained to me by someone far smarter than either of us and I'm not going to delve down that rabbit hole trying to figure it out. Suffice it to say, Prophecies are dodgy business, Oracles are not."

Sable wasn't exactly satisfied with that answer but chose not to question the Director any further.

"Get back to your duties," Croaker said, suddenly dismissing the other Unspeakable. "I want the surveillance teams reporting in regularly. With those damn Dementors at the school, I don't doubt that things are going to get interesting this year."


	33. Open

**Author's Notes: The Rotten Writer, here again. Yes, I'm still alive. I have no excuses for taking a month to update that I haven't already used so I'll skip that portion, apologize, and move on.**

 **I wanted to move some things along with the third year backdrop getting to more of the non-canon material that I had planned. Also, since I took so long I made sure that this was the longest chapter to date coming in at just shy of 19k words in length.**

 **Disclaimer: I still own nothing of the HP franchise and if I did I'd probably disavow any relation to the last book. Seriously, that thing went off the rails at that point.**

Soul Scars Part Three

The Greengrass Problem

By,

Rtnwriter

It'd taken weeks of near constant movement, ever further North, but finally, he crested a small hill and stopped, looking down at the valley spread out below him. The village wasn't very large, one main street running through the center of it, lined with shops and small businesses. A handful of smaller streets and alleys branched off of the main thoroughfare with a few residences and some other, more specialized businesses. There was a small train platform to one side and there, further to the North, its towers just visible above the trees, stood his destination.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

A flood of memories crashed over him, a tidal wave of images and emotions that threatened to roll him under and sweep him away as he sat, right there in the dirt, and struggled to hold it all in. Eventually, he gave up trying to contain it and instead embraced it, surrendered to it.

He threw back his large, shaggy head, and _howled_. The sound echoed hauntingly across the valley, drifting past candlelit windows, under eaves, and through the leaves and branches of the trees. Every being that heard that howl shivered, from the witches and wizards in the sleepy little village, to the centaurs in the forest, the elves hard at work in the castle, and one rat, where he lay, quivering in terror on a pillow in the third floor boys dorm in Gryffindor tower.

Lowering his head, Sirius Black stood and began to amble his way down the hill, his tail waving lazily behind him as he began search for a warm place to bunk down for the night.

He could plan a murder better after a good nights sleep.

#####

Daphne slowly opened her eyes, blinking several times before she groaned quietly and sat up in bed. It happened again, she realized as she around the empty bed. Hermione and Susan had gotten up and left without waking her. She would have frowned, but she locked her feelings down, instead, slamming her Occlumency shields in place so as not to let slip over the bond how hurt she was by the more and more frequent absences of her bond mates.

A month into the new school year and she more and more often found herself waking up without the comforting presence of the girls that she'd become accustomed to over the last two years. When she asked them about it, however, both Hermione and Susan were tight lipped on the matter, refusing to elaborate on why, or just said it was 'nothing'.

On several different occasions, she'd come downstairs for their morning training to find Neville and her three bond mates sitting with their heads together, talking in low voices and, as she approached, they suddenly went silent or seemed to switch subjects before she could hear what it was they were saying.

The feelings of guilt and anxiety that she felt coming from Hermione and Susan further reinforced the suspicion that they were talking about her, or something that concerned her. She didn't know what was going on, and she didn't like it in the slightest. One small part of her realized that this must have been how Harry felt whenever he thought about what they'd been hiding from him right until they told him about the scars.

Sighing, she got out of bed and reached for her wand to cast a glamour across her body to hide the scars. A tingling sensation washed over her entire body as the magic flowed across her skin and she let out a little shiver at the feeling before it faded and she made her way over to the showers, quickly going about her morning rituals. Twenty minutes later, showered, teeth and hair brushed, she came back into the dorm to get dressed for the day.

A grimace twisted her face as she dressed, thinking about what she had waiting for her that day. It was the first Hogsmeade weekend, and Malfoy, true to his word, had written to his father, who had obviously spoken to hers. Two days after classes started she received a letter from Lord Greengrass informing her that she was now required to attend specific meals with the Malfoy Heir, as well as accompanying him on all Hogsmeade weekends. Luckily, he had not given permission for the blond git to take any liberties with her person, something she would have felt grateful for if she didn't know it was only to hide her scars. If the scars became common knowledge, her value would decrease, and her father wouldn't be able to get as much for the sale of her contract.

As she dressed in a light colored blouse and long, dark skirt, she focused her attention on the bond she could feel linking her to Harry and the other girls. Despite the issues that currently plagued them, the three presences of her bond mates in her mind always comforted her. Sensing their emotions, feeling what they felt soothed her frayed nerves in a way that nothing else could. As such, it was with no little sense of dismay that she found all three of them had erected their own Occlumency shields, muting their emotions to such an extent that she couldn't tell what they were feeling at all.

It was like someone kicked her in the gut. Not only were they talking behind her back, now they had taken to actively hiding their emotions from her. Part of her wanted to cry. Part of her wanted to rage. Part of her wanted to crawl back into bed while another part wanted her to run to them and beg to know what she did wrong and what she needed to do to fix it.

She did none of those things.

She had her orders from the Head of her family, and as much as she hated him and what he was making her do, she was still a traditionally raised daughter of a Most Ancient and Noble House. She _would_ do her duty to her House to the best of her ability. In this case, that meant spending the day in the village with Draco Malfoy.

Finally finished dressing when she pulled on a simple pair of black flats, she grabbed her wand and headed downstairs to find her friends sitting near the fire with their heads together. Barely sparing them a glance, she walked across the common room with all the calm and grace she could muster and exited without a word spoken to anyone, leaving three sets of eyes worriedly watching her departing figure.

#####

Susan looked over to her other bond mates after the portrait closed behind Daphne, concern in her eyes. Harry was looking at Hermione, whose eyes were still fixed on the closed portrait, a pained expression on her face.

"Are you sure we can't bring her into this?" Susan practically begged. "I'm sure she could help."

"We can't, Susan," Harry told her, turning his luminescent gaze toward her. "You know we can't"

"But this is too much like when we wouldn't tell you-"

"And you girls had a good reason for not telling me," he cut her off. "You kept quiet for too long, but you did have a good reason. And we have an even better reason for not including her in these discussions, we talked about this on the first day of class, remember?"

Susan's face fell, but she, reluctantly, nodded.

"I know," she muttered despondently. "If her father asks her what we might be planning she would be duty bound to tell him everything." She frowned a moment later. "But we haven't actually found _anything_ ," she burst out, frustrated. "All the laws support her father with this. He owns her as her Head of House."

"And all this, ruining his own daughters life just for some gold, is completely legal," Hermione snarled, turning back to them, finally.

"Why isn't that a solution?" Neville suddenly asked, causing the three of them to focus their attention on him.

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"Why can't you bring a betrothal offer to her father?" he clarified his question. "It would solve all of this in one move. You've got more than enough money to best pretty much any offer he might receive from one of the other families and you actually have Daphne's well being in mind. So, why can't you just offer a contract to fix everything here?"

Harry scowled at that, his entire countenance darkening even as the air around them grew heavy and his eyes gleamed brighter and brighter with each passing moment.

"Because it's disgusting, for one thing," he spat, furiously. "Treating women like… like _merchandise_ to be bought and sold on a whim." A low growl erupted from his throat and he took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. "I'm sorry," he said to Neville and Susan who were both frowning at him. "It's a part of the culture that you were both born with, and I don't mean to insult your traditions, but that's all alien to me. I just can't stomach it."

"Betrothal contracts are important," Neville said, calmly. "They're meant to safeguard the bride and groom and their families when used with the agreement of all involved. That's how they're supposed to work, and when I'm ready to marry I will happily negotiate a contract with the brides Head of House. But you're right that how Lord Greengrass is going about things is disgusting. So, we're in agreement there."

"How?" Harry demanded. "How is a contract requiring two people to marry supposed to safeguard anything? We've been looking at all of this for two months now and I still don't see how they can be considered a good thing."

Neville sighed, leaning back in his seat and closed his eyes as he tried to think of how best to explain it to his friend. Harry, Susan, and Hermione sat and watched him, his brows furrowed in thought for several minutes before he opened his eyes and looked toward Harry.

"Historically, betrothal contracts have been used to bring adversarial families together, to prevent or end feuds, or to increase political and economic power," he said, slowly. "Which, I know, sounds about as romantic as watching grass grow, but family is extremely important in our world, and our duty to our family comes first, before anything else. Aside from those points I mentioned it's also about continuing bloodlines. A contract helps to clearly define what is exchanged and what each family gets out of the union. It outlines the expectations of both parties in a way that can't be argued or ignored and they're usually magically binding so they can't be betrayed without some really severe consequences.

"Contracts can include how many children are expected from the couple and within what time frame they should be expected. It helps encourage the two families to support each other in the political arena as well as in personal aspects. If the sibling of a spouse is attacked or harmed, the other spouse, and their family, will respond as well, so that helps safeguard the individuals through threat of retribution. Yes, contracts have been, and still are being used by some families without their children's agreement, and in some cases even without their knowledge, but that is because of the laws that define children as property of their Head of House, not because of the use of contracts in general. So, while there are downsides, there's still a lot of good that contracts can be used for, for individual Houses and for the wizarding world as a whole."

Harry and Hermione thought that over for a moment before Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat.

"We're going to get that changed too, right?" he asked in regard to the laws about children and Neville have him a firm nod, his eyes hard and determined.

"Count on it."

Silence fell for a minute before it was broken by Susan.

"What else?" she asked, then hastened to clarify when all three of her friends gave her a confused look. "You said that contracts were disgusting, 'for one thing'," she reminded them, her eyes fixed on Harry. "That implies that you have other reasons. So, what else?"

Harry sighed, thinking over his other reasons for a moment.

"You know I've never been completely comfortable with how this bond happened. We weren't given a choice. Dumbledore stuck me with my relatives and I had no choice in that, either. All my life, I've not had many choices that haven't been made for me by others. I won't take that choice of who to marry away from her."

Susan and Hermione shared a look, each thinking something similar. Hermione was saddened that Susan had been right. On the train to school, Hermione almost blurted out that Daphne didn't need to worry about being cast out of her family, and thus, being unable to find work after school or a decent husband, because they were already going to marry Harry, as it stood. Obviously, Harry had not come to that same conclusion, that their marriage to him was an inevitability.

He _had_ acknowledged, in the past, that their close relationship _might_ develop into something more, in the future, but obviously he didn't seem to think that was a likely occurrence. He didn't seem to realize that the emotional closeness they shared was very nearly guaranteed to foster feelings of love for each other.

Of course, Hermione argued as she considered this new revelation, she couldn't honestly say that she was in love with him, either, and given his upbringing, he was still the least equipped of the four of them to recognize love, anyway. She knew she cared about him. She knew that she worried about him, and her other bond mates. She knew that she wanted him to be happy and that she always wanted to be a part of his life.

She blinked, slightly startled by the direction her thoughts had taken and quickly analyzed them again for a moment before her eyes widened in a moment of stunned realization.

Was she already falling in love with Harry Potter?

"So, since her wishes are unimportant to her father already, I have no wish to be compared to him. I wouldn't offer a contract unless there were absolutely no other option, and not without Daphne's approval," Harry was saying as Hermione snapped out of her musings and tuned back into reality and the continuing conversation taking place around her. Harry grimaced. "That being said, I _have_ actually had a contract drawn up by my Account Manager, just in case. But it probably won't matter anyway, I seriously doubt Daphne has any more desire to be stuck in a contract with me than she does anyone else."

The incredulous looks on the other's faces would have told him how little they believed that last statement, but he'd turned away to look into the fire when he admitted that he already had a contract drawn up, not wanting to see the disappointment he expected to find in the girls eyes at that admission.

"Well," Neville started, drawing Harry's attention away from the fire as he stood up. "I need to head down to breakfast before the carriages start leaving for Hogsmeade," he said in an apologetic tone of voice. "I need some new quills and ink. Did you guys want me to pick up anything while I'm there?"

Neville had tried to argue against going to the village, saying that he was perfectly happy to stay there with them, but they'd quickly disabused him of that notion and insisted that he shouldn't miss a Hogwarts rite of passage because of them.

Susan and Harry both shook their heads, but Hermione nodded. "I do too, and some more parchment," she admitted as she went to stand from her own spot on the sofa beside Susan. "Let me run up to get some Galleons for yo-"

"Don't worry about it," Neville waved her off. "I can cover it, no problem."

Hermione huffed out a breath and glared at their friend. "Neville, I can't ask you to do that. They're my supplies, I should pay for them."

"You're not asking me, I'm offering."

"But-"

"I'm not kidding."

"Neville-"

"Oh for the love of… look, if it means that much to you, you can owe me for it, okay?"

Hermione's response died when Harry suddenly jerked in his seat and his head whipped around so fast that a series of popping noises came from his neck to stare intently at Neville.

"What was that?" he asked in a sharp tone that had the Lord Longbottom literally taking a step back as brilliantly glowing green eyes fixed on him.

"Ummm…"

"Harry?" Susan asked, and was subsequently ignored as the dark haired wizard rose from his seat with all the smooth grace of a predator closing in on his prey.

"What was that you said?" he demanded, insistently.

The girls shard another look, puzzled over the emotions leaking through Harry's Occlumency shields and across their bond. A mixture of anxious anticipation, hesitant hope, and mingled fear and concern.

"J-just that Hermione can owe me for the quills… and stuff," Neville stammered, slightly taken aback by the intense behavior of his friend.

Harry stood, still as a statue, for several moments as his mind latched onto something and began whirling at high speed, dizzying thoughts flitting past his consciousness, one after another, until a slow grin spread across his face.

"Neville, you are a bloody genius!" he suddenly shouted as he darted forward and yanked Neville into a rough hug, actually lifting the taller boy off of the ground in his enthusiasm. "That's it," he crowed, gleefully. "That's it, you're amazing!"

Harry suddenly let go of Neville, oblivious to his friend dropping to the ground in his surprise as he turned and sprinted toward the portrait hole, calling out a hurried, "gotta go check something, see you later," over his shoulder moments before he vanished, leaving three very confused friends behind him.

"What the hell just happened?" Neville asked from his comfortable and, more importantly, safe spot on the carpet in front of the fire. Susan and Hermione both just shook their heads in bemused confusion for a moment before they shot to their feet and scrambled off after their, apparently, insane bond mate.

"Here we go again with the running," Neville muttered before he leveraged himself to his feet and joined in on the chase.

With his longer legs and better overall fitness over the girls, Neville quickly caught up and fell into step with them as they raced their way through the castle. They occasionally caught glimpse of Harry's figure ahead of them as they ran, until they eventually caught up to see him entering an empty classroom just off of the Great Hall with Blaise Zabini right behind him. Before the door swung closed, the three of them slipped into the room and Neville closed the door firmly behind him before turning his attention back to the rest of the room.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Blaise asked, carefully studying Harry who was leaning against the teachers desk as he caught his breath.

"Blaise, I need your help, and while I'd like it if you wanted to help just to help a friend… I'll be honest, this would go a long way toward getting you back in my good books, if that helps influence your decision." Harry said as calmly as he could despite the near manic grin that was still twisting his lips.

The perpetually unruffled Slytherin arched an aristocratic brow and gestured for him to continue.

"I," Harry started then stopped and glanced at the girls and Neville who were all three eyeing him with no small amount of concern and confusion and then corrected himself, "we, need your help with a plan, but how we go about it depends on one thing. What do you know, or how much can you find out, about wizarding life debts?"

#####

The late afternoon sunlight in the village of Hogsmeade was a welcome thing. It wasn't particularly warm, but it was just enough to take some of the chill out of the air and it warmed the skin of his face and arms as Neville leaned back on a small bench set off the main street across from the local tavern and pub, the Three Broomsticks. Neville tilted his head back, lifting a dark glass bottle in one hand and let a mouthful of warmed butterbeer slide down his throat.

He swallowed and let out a long sigh before he set the mostly full bottle on the cobblestones by his foot and observed the village around him. People walked back and forth, a few locals, and more than a few students from third year up to a pair of seventh year prefects that he could see patrolling near the far end of the street. Students from every house, most without their uniforms to advertise which House they belong to, entered and exited shops, some with bags on their arms bulging with purchases while others strolled arm in arm with a significant other. Friends in groups small and large laughed and joked and chatted happily as they went about their day.

Idly, he wondered if any of them had to deal with the kind of crap that Harry and his girls had to deal with. Obviously, everybody had problems in life, he wasn't stupid and more than understood that everyone probably felt that their own problems were of Earth shaking importance. But Dark Lords? Deadly monsters? Escaped Criminals? Other than Aurors and maybe Dragon handlers, Neville didn't think that most people had to deal with the kinds of things that his friends found themselves stuck with.

He sighed again and let his head fall back to look up at the blue sky hanging over him, his arms spread out across the back of the bench. He was just slipping into a daydream about a simple, quiet life, one without the rush of danger and a mystery to solve, when he suddenly sat up, quickly, as he heard a quiet 'woof' from somewhere near his knee.

Sitting calmly on the stones beside him was, probably, the largest black dog that Neville had ever seen, barring Fluffy, of course. The Neville that he had been before befriending Harry would have jumped up and run in terror at the sight of the animal, if he'd managed to do so without tripping over his own feet. One glance at the beast immediately brought to mind tales of the Grim, the spectral dog thought to be an omen of death that was probably more urban legend than based in any kind of fact.

But he wasn't that Neville, anymore. He'd spent the last two years with friends that had done wonders to build up his confidence and self-esteem and he quickly quashed that instinctive desire to run as he took a moment to observe the animal. Despite its worrisome size, it was extremely thin, ribs easy visible along its sides, long shaggy fur matted and tangled with dirt, twigs, and bits of leaves. Its eyes were dark, warm, and seemed possessed of an unusual degree intelligence that he hadn't at all expected on first spotting the dog.

"Hullo," he said after several minutes passed where the two simply studied each other in silence.

The dog huffed out a breath again and tilted its head to the side in that curious manner apparently shared by all breeds of canine.

"You're a nice boy, aren't you?" Neville muttered, carefully holding out one hand, palm up for the dog to sniff. He practically held his breath as the large head inched closer to his hand, dark nose twitching as warm gusts of air blew across his fingers.

"OH, YUCK!" Neville cried out a moment later when a long, pink tongue slid across the palm of his hand, thoroughly coating it in dog slobber.

With his face twisted in disgust, Neville wiped his hand clean as best he could on his robes while the dog fell over onto its side as a strange, strangled sounding noise escaped it. Neville was fairly certain it was laughing at him.

"I can't believe I'm getting laughed at by a dog," he grumbled, glaring at the clearly amused animal. The dog stopped writhing around on the ground a moment later and, before Neville could react, it grabbed his bottle of butter beer in its jaws by the neck and tilted its head back, quickly drinking down the entire bottle in a matter of seconds.

The loud belch it let out after dropping the now empty bottle served to shake Neville from his surprise and he gave the dog a resigned seeming glare.

"If I didn't know better, I'd swear you belonged to the Weasley twins," he said ruefully, ignoring how the beasts ears pricked forward at his words. "Are you hungry?" he asked, figuring it was likely, based on how thin the animal was, even if it wouldn't understand the words themselves. To his surprise the large black head moved up and down in a clear nod and the dog sat again by the bench, looking expectantly at Neville.

"All right, stay here, okay?" Neville asked as he stood. The dog nodded again and laid down by the bench, resting its head on its forepaws as it settled in to wait. Neville shook his head, bemused by the dogs behavior, but quickly made his way across the street and entered the Three Broomsticks.

Entering the tavern, Neville was immediately struck by the noise. Every table and booth was packed with students from the school, eating, drinking, talking, and laughing loudly in order to be heard over the others in the large, open room. On one side, Neville saw a number of familiar faces from around Gryffindor tower. Ron, Dean, and Seamus sat at one table, talking loudly over the noise from the table next to them where the entire Quidditch team, minus Harry, sat, arguing over tactics and different plays. Oliver was in the midst of gesturing wildly as he used his hands to illustrate a play to the three chasers, commonly referred to as the Flying Foxes of Gryffindor.

Several 'Puffs sat at a few nearby tables including Cedric Diggory and Hannah Abbot, who was in deep discussion with a few older Ravenclaws that he didn't immediately recognize on sight. As he started to wend his way through the crowd of tables and students toward the bar, he spotted Malfoy in a darkened corner of the room, holding court as near a half a dozen Slytherins from their year sat near him, clearly hanging on his every word. Sitting next to him, her face carefully neutral, was Daphne. Nothing about her expression or posture gave anything away, but Neville felt that he knew her well enough to detect how disgusted she was with her present situation.

He scowled at the sight, but resisted the very Gryffindor urge to stomp over and cause a scene. Daphne wouldn't appreciate it, and, as much as he hated to admit it, he was hopelessly out numbered. Instead, he took a deep, calming breath, and refocused his attention on his goal of acquiring something to eat for his new furry friend.

After much prodding, dodging, ducking, and weaving, Neville finally found a spot at the bar and smiled at one of the primary reasons for the taverns continued popularity. Madam Rosmerta was of an unknown age, but Neville remembered stories from Amelia talking about the owner and operator of the tavern who had been there when she was in school. She was beautiful, curvy, and dressed to show off her figure in the best possible way, somehow managing not to come off as tawdry or slutty in the process.

She alone drew a large portion of the male population of the school and the amazing food and drink on offer drew in the rest, as well as the girls, meaning that it was one of the most popular and successful businesses in the entire village.

"What can I get you?" she asked, kindly, a smile on her plump lips and her eyes dancing in amusement as Neville blushed and struggled to keep his eyes in safe areas.

"Ummm… I've found a stray, outside," he muttered, just barely heard over the noisy crowd and Madam Rosmerta leaned forward to better hear him, giving him a stellar view of her impressive cleavage and doing nothing to calm or settle his nerves in the process. "I w-was hoping I -c-c-could get a plate of s-stewed beef for him?"

Rosmerta's smile was genuine and wide and she scurried into the back, returning quickly with a plate piled high with beef and chicken and an empty bowl as well which she set on the bar without a word. When Neville reached for his purse to pay she stopped him, reaching across to place one hand on his wrist.

"No charge," she said. "I think it's right nice of you, trying to take care of something like that, so this one's on the house."

He smiled and carefully picked up the plate and the bowl, thanking her profusely before working his way back across the tavern to the exit.

The dog was still lying right where he'd left it and it lifted its head, expectantly when the door opened and Neville stepped out, its nose twitching madly in the direction of the plate he held in one hand.

Smiling at the animal's reaction, he set the plate down, the dog's jaws snapping up bites of beef and chicken even before he managed to set it completely on the cobblestones. Placing the empty bowl beside the plate, he tapped it with his wand, muttering an incantation, and moments later the bowl was filled with clean, cold, water.

"No more butterbeer for you, pup," he muttered, smiling again as one ear twitched in his directions. "Last thing we need is a drunk dog wandering the village."

While the dog ate, Neville inspected it more closely, all trace of his initial nervousness long gone. The dog had no collar, or anything to indicate that he belonged to someone. He considered the possible options open to him, and by the time the plate was cleaned of every bit of meat, Neville had come to a conclusion.

"How would you like to meet a friend of mine?" he asked. "He's a lot like you, big and scary looking, but a big softy on the inside. I think you'll like him."

A cheerful sounding 'wuff' greeted that pronouncement, so Neville took it as agreement and took the dishes back inside the tavern to return them to Madam Rosmerta with another round of thanks. When Neville, once again, found his way outside, he started back toward the castle, chatting all the way as the dog barked happily, bounding around him, but never getting more than ten feet away throughout the entire trip.

#####

Late in the afternoon of their first Hogsmeade weekend, Harry found himself aimlessly wandering the castle. He was doing his best to calm his mind and relax. Normally, he would achieve this by going flying, but the presence of the Dementors outside the school had cast an unpleasant chill over the grounds. Even one step outside the castle and Harry could dimly hear screaming in the back of his mind that he knew would get louder and louder the closer he got to the property boundaries. Thus, one of his favorite pastimes had been turned into an unpleasant prospect at best, and a potential disaster at worst.

He frowned, stopping by a window on the fifth floor, and caught sight of three of the horrific wraiths floating above the Forbidden Forest in the distance. The sight of them turned his mind away from Daphne, Sirius Black, his bond with the girls, and any other concern that he had and focused his thoughts in one direction.

Professor Remus Lupin, Moony to his friends, according to his mother's journals, had rapidly become one of the most popular teachers in the entire school. Over the course of the month of September, he'd heard many a female student, from each year group, comment on the professor's warm brown eyes, his calm, soothing voice and demeanor, and any number of other characteristics unique to the worn man. It was his practical teaching method and extensive knowledge of Defense, however, that endeared him to the male half of the school, with the exception of some of the Slytherin students.

Harry, in particular, found himself looking forward to each Defense lesson with a sense of eager anticipation. Even when he was being held back by the inherent limitations of his wand blank, Harry still consistently outperformed every other student in that class and the Professor had not been stingy with his praise in the slightest.

Which made his frustration over last weeks lesson even more pronounced. Professor Lupin had given the day over for another practical lesson, leading their entire third year class on a short trip through the castle to the staff room where there was, apparently, a Boggart waiting for them. After a short interaction with Professor Snape, the Potions Master left, his black robes billowing about him as the class turned their attention back to their Defense Professor.

Laughter rang throughout the room as a mummy tripped over its own bandages and started to unravel, a gigantic spider suddenly found itself falling about as roller skates appeared on the end of each one of its hairy legs, a banshee lost her voice before she could unleash her deadly scream, a clown, complete with colorful makeup and gigantic floppy shoes, transformed into one of those plastic, inflatable, blow up toys with the weighted bottom that you could never knock over.

On the lesson went, as, one at a time, each student faced their worst fear, and made fun of it. Finally, the line of students dwindled until it was only him and his friends left and Harry scowled at the memory of the professor cutting between him and the boggart, just as he'd started forward to confront it.

"Why wouldn't he let me face it?" Harry muttered darkly to himself. There was no answer forthcoming, standing there by the window, so, in a fit of indignation, he decided to find out for himself.

Spinning around on one heel he stalked back the way he'd come down the corridor, his strides quick and determined and his left hand resting comfortably on the hilt of the sword strapped to his waist to help control the blade from flopping around as he moved. The feel of the weapon beneath his hand sparked a thought he'd had more than once over the course of the previous summer and he mentally added it to his list of things to discuss with the Defense Professor.

It only took a little over five minutes for Harry to make his way through the castles many corridors until he found himself standing outside the Defense office and, before he could second guess himself, he lifted his right hand and knocked firmly on the door, before dropping his arm back to his side to wait.

A minute later the door swung open and tired, brown eyes regarded Harry curiously for a moment.

"Harry? I mean, Lord Potter, what can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you might be free to talk a bit," Harry said as calmly as he could. No need to sound antagonistic when he was merely frustrated.

The Professor smiled, thin lips turning up slightly at the corners and he stepped back as he pulled the door open wider and gestured with one hand for Harry to step in.

Entering the room, Harry looked around curiously, noting the differences from when Lockhart had taught the year before. Gone were the beaming portraits that had once covered the walls. In their place there were illustrations of different dark or dangerous creatures, lists of dangerous spells and curses and their counters and even a poster for a dueling tournament from forty years previously proclaiming an, apparently, long anticipated match between a man whose name Harry honestly wasn't sure how to pronounce and one Filius Flitwick.

It'd been two weeks after getting out of the hospital wing the year before that Harry had even noticed that Lockhart was missing and the twins had filled him in that Lockhart had made a run for it in the middle of the night the same evening that Harry had faced the Basilisk in the Chamber. No one really knew what happened to him or where he went, but only a few of the girls in the school really cared. The rest were either male, or had long since figured out that he was a hopeless fraud not worthy of any respect or admiration.

"So, Lord Potter, what can I do for you?" Professor Lupin asked as he sat behind his desk and gestured for Harry to take a seat across from him.

"Please, I know the professors prefer to use my title, and I'm slowly getting used to that and my responsibilities, but you were friends with my parents, right? I think you can call me Harry, at least in private?"

Lupin smiled, and in that instant he seemed twenty years younger as the scars across his left cheek shifted with the movement in his face and his eyes lit up with warmth and cheer.

"Harry, then. And, in private, I insist you call me Remus, or even Moony if you prefer."

Despite his frustration, Harry couldn't help a smile of his own at that and nodded.

"I'd imagine you'd like to hear more about your parents?" Moony started. "I've more than a few stories I can share. James and I were friends from our very first trip on the Hogwarts Express."

"No, actually," Harry said, cutting in. "Well… actually yes, I'd love to hear more about them. But that wasn't why I wanted to talk to you right now, honestly."

Moony arched a brow curiously and gestured for him to continue with one hand as Harry started to fidget nervously in his seat.

"I was wondering about class the other day. You let almost everyone face the boggart but when it was my turn…"

"You want to know why I stopped you from facing it?

Harry nodded.

Sighing Remus leaned back in his seat and laced his fingers together, placing his palms on his chest in a move that reminded Harry strongly of Dumbledore.

"You think… what… that I felt you were too weak, maybe?"

Harry shrugged.

"I stopped you from facing the boggart, not because I was trying to protect you, but because I was hoping to protect the rest of the class."

Harry blinked in surprise and his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Without knowing in advance, I could only guess that your boggart might become a certain dark wizard that most people refuse to name. I felt that seeing something like that might have sent the rest of the class into a panic and wanted to avoid that possibility."

"I hadn't even considered Voldemort, really," Harry muttered, staring blankly at the edge of the large desk in front of him while his mind cast back to that day and the thoughts he'd considered for what his boggart might turn into. "I was thinking of the Dementor, actually, but I wasn't really sure about that, either."

Two prematurely greying brows rose slightly at that.

"That shows a level of maturity one might not expect from someone your age, Harry," Moony pointed out. "It takes a strong man to admit that his greatest fear, is fear."

"I'm not strong enough. I passed out around the Dementor on the train," Harry pointed out, bitterly. "No one else reacted so badly to them."

"That doesn't make you weak, and them strong," Remus told him, gently. "From what I've heard, you've had a far harder life than probably any other student in this school, and likely many of the professors as well, come to think of it. The thing about Dementors is that they suck out all the happiness in an area, forcing those affected by their presence to relieve their worst memories complete with the fear, pain, and hurt that comes with those memories. For most of those students, their bad memories are, simply put, not that bad. From what I've been told, your first two years here were a lot more painful than most would have dealt with at this point, and I've heard rumblings that the years before weren't much better, though no details have been given," he added the last rather quickly when he noticed Harry's face darkening angrily.

Taking a deep breath, Harry let it out slowly, feeling the anger that had started to spark up ebb away until he felt he could speak without snapping.

"I really wish that people would ask me before sharing personal information like that," he grumbled.

"To be fair, Harry, I wasn't actually told anything specific about your life before school," Remus pointed out. "Just obliquely informed that it was less than ideal and that you struggled, still, with what happened. And, well, staff does have to be informed when there are special dispensations going on, such as the mind healer that has visited you regularly since the second term in your first year. I am not told any specifics of those meetings, nor is anyone else, but the staff is aware that said meetings take place."

He nodded thoughtfully at that, realizing the necessity of it objectively, even if he still didn't care for it.

"You said that you and my parents were friends," he said, changing the subject. "Mum's journals sure did mention you often enough that I can believe that."

Remus cracked a sad smile. "Yes, we were. We got into more than our fair share of trouble in these halls over our years here."

"If you were such good friends, why didn't you take me in when they died?" Harry asked. At the stricken look on the professor's face Harry hastened to add, "not meant to sound accusing. I was just suddenly curious and… well, Healer Gant has told me a hundred times at least that I shouldn't hold stuff like that in. If I didn't say something, in a few weeks or months I'd have likely worked myself into a lather over it until I blew my top… so I just figured I'd ask." Harry trailed off uncertainly, wondering just what possessed him to approach that particular question.

"Probably a good bit of advice, there." Remus sighed and leaned forward in his seat before speaking again. "In the months before your parents took you and went into hiding," he stated, "well… people were scared. You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters were running almost unchecked over the entire country. The Aurors were outmanned, fighting a losing battle with their hands tied behind their backs.

"While the Death Eaters were using lethal spells as well as the Unforgivables, the Aurors were still under mandate to use only non-lethal spells in fighting back against the enemy."

"But that's just stupid!" Harry blurted out. "When people are trying to kill you, you can't stick to stunning and disarming."

"You know that and I know that, but the Ministry has never approved of potentially lethal methods for their law enforcement personnel. Especially since many of the Death Eaters were people like the Malfoy's, Black's, Lestrange's and so on. Many of the old houses that have seats on the Wizengamont were followers of the Dark Lord or at least Sympathizers and they didn't want to be facing Aurors acting with the intent to kill so they made sure to tie the Ministry up in red tape and minutiae."

Harry shook his head, grumbling under his breath about the general stupidity of wizards when Remus continued. "So, like I said, people were scared and the Death Eaters went nearly unchallenged. The Ministry wasn't very effective in combating them, corrupt as it was and infiltrated by spies and the Dark Mark was seen in the sky over a destroyed home nearly every day.

"People didn't know what to do, who to trust, or who to turn to. Dumbledore had started a sort of vigilante group to try and fight back. Your parents, Sirius, Peter, and I joined up right out of school. But as time went on, more and more of our operations started going wrong, and it became clear that we had a traitor in the Order."

Despite the serious turn of the conversation Harry found himself fascinated and drawn into the story, leaning forward in his seat to ensure he didn't miss a single word.

"We started losing members, almost weekly, and any organization started to fall apart. Your parents went into hiding and I was sent out of the country by Dumbledore to try to gather support from various factions, or at the very least, to try to convince them not to support You-Know-Who. I was still away that Halloween night, and I didn't even find out that the war was over until six days after the fact when I came back into the country."

The pained expression on the older man's face and the lost look in his eyes clearly showed how painful these memories still were for him, even with over a decade of time to dull them and Harry practically held his breath for fear that any distraction might break him from his story.

"When I left the country, my friends were alive, if scared and stressed. When I returned, three of them were dead and the fourth was in prison for their betrayal and murder and you were… gone. Dumbledore had already hidden you away. I petitioned the Ministry to take you in but… I have a condition that precludes me from being able to care for a child easily, especially a very young child that would have needed to rely on me for everything, so my petition was denied.

"I tried talking to Albus, but he assured me that you were safe." He blinked, his eyes focusing on Harry when the messy haired teen snorted loudly and his face twisted into a disgusted sneer.

"'Safe' isn't the word I would have used," Harry muttered, darkly.

Remus' response was so soft that Harry almost missed it. "So I hear." He raised a hand to forestall any potential outburst and went on without pause, "Again, I wasn't given details, but I have heard enough mutterings to understand that you did not have an easy time growing up. I'm in no place to demand you talk to me, as I understand it you've got plenty of people already making that offer. I'll listen if you want, but otherwise nothing more needs to be said."

Harry hesitated for a moment before he nodded again and leaned back in his seat.

"So you tried to take me in?" he said, urging the man to continue and Remus cracked another grin but obligingly went on.

"I did. It didn't work and I exhausted every way I could think of to find you. Whatever Dumbledore did, it really was extremely effective in ensuring that you were completely hidden from the wizarding world."

"So then what did you do?"

Remus grimaced at that. "Well, I'm ashamed to say that I lost myself for a number of years. Understand, Harry, I was grieving for the loss of, pretty much, my entire world. I had no family. I was an only child and my parents died years before when we were all still in school. James, Sirius, Peter, and Lilly. They were my family. And then you, once you were born. And in a single night it was all ripped away from me. I basically crawled into a bottle and didn't come back out any longer than I could possibly avoid. I'm not proud of that, but it happened, and I'm moving on. When Dumbledore got in touch with me and offered me the teaching post here… well, I couldn't turn that down and miss the opportunity to finally see you again and find out how you're doing."

Harry shrugged and held his arms out to his sides as if saying, 'well, here I am'.

"I'm not doing too bad, really. There's been some rough spots but I'm still alive." He turned his glowing gaze to meet the amber colored eyes of his professor who was studying him carefully, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"You brought up a valid point, earlier, Harry," he pointed out and Harry blinked, confused by the sudden shift.

"Huh?"

"The Dementors. They affect you far worse than most and that's a dangerous thing."

"I've been researching some way to fight them, honestly," Harry admitted with a shrug. "The library doesn't have much on Dementors though, and I haven't found a single curse that might work on them. I mean, do they have bones to break?" He shrugged again, looking defeated.

"Well, you wouldn't find any curses to affect Dementors," Remus said with a quiet chuckle. "There's only one known method of fighting off a Dementor, not killing it, as they appear to be functionally immortal for all intents and purposes, but simply driving them away. It's a highly advanced charm, actually, known as the Patronus Charm and usually isn't taught until NEWT classes as it is a very difficult charm and only a small percentage of adult wizards have the power or mental discipline to cast it."

"Can you teach it to me? Me and my friends?"

Remus blinked in surprise at the sudden, eager response and tried to let him down gently. Harry, like I said, it's a NEWT level charm that most adult wizards can't even do. At your age…" he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders helplessly.

Harry growled, low in his throat as the light in his eyes grew brighter, causing Remus to lean away from the messy haired teen, apprehensively.

"Moony, in my first year I taught myself the Reductor, Incarcerous, the Summoning Charm, Blasting Hex, and several other third and fourth year charms, curses, and hexes. I've learned the Flame Whip spell, Bone Breaking hexes, and my friends and I almost have the Siege Engine spell down. That one is honestly a bit complicated and we haven't devoted a lot of time directly to working on that one, but I think that if we did, we'd have it figured out within a week."

As Harry rattle off his list, Remus'' eyes grew wider, and wider, until, finally," Siege Engine?" he blurted out. "What possible reason could you have for trying to learn that?"

Harry shrugged. "Someone's tried to kill me each year I've been at this school. Each year something crazy has been going on and there's a maniac out there that wants me dead. I felt it was in my best interest to learn as much as I could. Honestly, I already know most of the spells for this years Defense, the only thing I don't know already in your class is the creatures you've been showing us. Last year I fired off a three foot wide Reductor and it blew up my wand." Harry held out his hand, showing Remus the scars from his destroyed wand. "Please. There's Dementors at this school and I can't stand to be near them. I need to know this charm."

Remus studied Harry carefully for several moments before he let out a defeated sigh. "All right," he said. "We'll give it a try in a week or two, okay? I'm not making any promises that you'll be able to do this, but we'll see how it goes."

"And my friends?"

"You and your girls and Lord Longbottom are welcome to come to the lesson. I'll let you know when but I don't want you or any of them to get discouraged if you don't get this right away, or at all, understood? There is a reason it is a NEWT level charm."

Harry's beaming smile, Remus felt, was worth the promise of extra Defense lessons. From what he'd seen and heard both in class and from most of the other staff, Harry in particular had power to spare for the charm, the mental discipline, however, was going to be the real test.

#####

As Neville made his way toward the castle with a rake thin bear of a dog, Daphne suffered the prattlings of Malfoy and his cadre of sycophants, and Harry was busy interrogating their Defense Professor, Susan and Hermione had taken over a small table in the Hogwarts Library in the bushy haired one's favorite, out of the way corner, where there was little foot traffic and fewer distractions.

Susan quietly observed her bond mate as they worked. Hermione had half a dozen books spread out on the table in front of her, all of them covered in runes and diagrams of complex arrays far above their current work in the class. With one hand, she was writing copious notes as her eyes flitted from one book to another, and as she worked, her left hand was held up by the side of her head, two fingers gently rubbing a circle against her temple.

Susan counted them lucky that they'd been able to talk her out of accepting the Time Turned that Director Croaker had offered, and instead used their Head of House's suggestion to alternate which lesson Hermione attended for those that overlapped while collecting notes and the homework assignments from a classmate for the others. Despite that, after only a month of classes, Hermione was obviously feeling the strain of her workload. Susan felt there was more to it than just the class work, though.

She winced as a sudden spike of pain went through her head, bleeding over from the studious girls across from her and she let out a frustrated sigh.

"Drop the quill, Hermione," she demanded as she stood and started around the table.

"Wha-" Hermione looked up for a moment, eyes narrowed in pain, before turning back to her work. "I need to finish this," she mumbled distractedly. "Two feet on the Elder Futhark runic alphabet and a foot on arithmantic principles of predictive matrixes before I can focus on Daphne's problem."

"Put the quill down, 'Mione," Susan said in a far more commanding tone as she stopped behind the other girl and leaned down to take the quill from her hand. Despite her protests she eventually surrendered the quill and Susan carefully set it down to the side before she straightened back up.

"Susan, I have a lot of work to do," Hermione practically whined.

"And Harry and I can help you with Runes and Arithmancy. We both already finished those assignments while you were in Muggle Studies. Daphne needs to finish those too, and neither are due until Thursday. You can afford a few minutes break to relax and talk to me."

"I don't need to relax, I need to-"

"Your headache is hurting me too," Susan cut her off, "and I'll be honest, I'm getting worried. Harry and Daphne are distracted, they probably haven't noticed how often your head has been bothering you, but I have."

As she spoke, Susan had gently pulled on the other girls shoulder until she was leaning back in her seat. Strong fingers worked their way across Hermione's shoulders until her thumbs started kneading a tense knot of muscle just at the base of her neck, eliciting a small groan from the girl.

"It's not a big deal," Hermione tried, but trailed off as Susan's fingers worked their way up the column of her neck beneath the heavy mass of her hair. Reaching the base of her skull, Susan gently tilted Hermione's head back until she was leaning against the redheads abdomen, just beneath her breasts.

"Don't pretend it's nothing," Susan murmured as she pressed the tips of her fingers against the other girls scalp, gently moving across her head until she was rubbing soothing circles at both temples. "'Nothing' doesn't leave you with headaches as often as you've been getting them, and you can't even blame it on school stress," she added as Hermione opened her mouth, which snapped shut a moment later. "The headaches started not long after the nightmares over the summer, the ones where you wake up calling out for Daphne."

She arched a brow down at the other witch as Hermione tilted her head back, giving her a surprised look.

"I'm not as dumb as I look, 'Mione," she said, her tone slightly hurt. "I do pay attention to the people around me."

"No one has ever said that you're dumb, Susan. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that at all. I was just surprised because I thought I'd hidden it better than that."

"Why hide it at all?"

Hermione shrugged, lowering her chin until she was facing forward again as Susan's fingers continued to soothe her pained head.

"I don't know," she mumbled. "With Black escaping Azkaban, Harry still mad at us, all this stress with Daphne's father… I guess I just felt that some headaches were petty in comparison?"

"You don't exactly sound sure of that," Susan whispered, noting the questioning tone in her bond mate's voice.

Hermione squirmed a bit in her seat but didn't offer anything else and Susan couldn't help another frustrated sigh.

"Why is Harry upset with us?" she asked, suddenly.

"Because we didn't tell him about the scars," Hermione immediately replied and Susan shook her head, her long ponytail falling over her right shoulder to drape across her breasts.

"Not exactly," she disagreed. "He's upset because we've been pushing him to open up to us. We've been pushing him to share with us and to not hide things from us, but we haven't been doing the same thing. Daphne still keeps her past hidden. You and I have only shared small pieces of our lives as well. How can we keep expecting him to be open with us if we won't be open with him? Or with each other?"

Hermione considered that, her eyes slipping closed even as her teeth started worrying at her bottom lip.

Eventually she heaved out a sigh, the scents of honeysuckle and ivory polish that clung to Susan filling her nose as she breathed.

"We really haven't been going about all this very well, have we?" she muttered.

"No, probably not. But it's not like situations like ours come with an instruction manual, is it?"

Hermione snorted out a laugh, then took another deep breath of the relaxing scent of her bond mate before leaning her head back more against the girl behind her.

"Suggestions?" she asked.

Susan allowed herself a soft smile as she felt Hermione's pain ebb slightly through their bond, as well as the sense of acceptance flowing from the other girl.

"I don't know, really, other than sitting the others down and talking. I mean, we talk all the time, but obviously we're still holding back." She paused for a moment as Hermione made a wordless sound of agreement before she continued. "So, why don't you start with telling me about these headaches, or, why you really haven't mentioned them before."

Hermione groaned at that and her eyes opened to stare off into the distance as she thought. Susan kept quiet, letting her think even as her fingers continued a constant motion across the girls scalp and temples.

After a few minutes of silence, Hermione reached up and gently took hold of Susan's hands, pulling them away from her head and down, until she had to lean down to follow the pull, letting her chin rest atop the other witches tangled mass of curls. Without thinking, Hermione turned Susan's right hand over and pressed her lips to the dark slash of a scar that marked her wrist where the feather from Harry's wand had torn through his skin. She couldn't see it, due to the glamours they wore, but she could feel it against her lips, along with the smooth texture and the warmth of Susan's skin.

When her brain caught up to her actions Hermione felt a sudden heat bloom in her cheeks and, as calmly as she could, she moved her lips away from the other girls skin and let Susan fold her arms around her.

Susan was not privy to the fierce blush coloring Hermione's cheeks or to the tingling sensation that she could still feel in her lips, nor was Hermione aware of the delighted shiver that'd coursed its way down the redheads spine in that moment.

Hermione cleared her throat, carefully. "Thank you," she said, her voice far more of a breathy whisper than she'd intended. "That was helping, a lot, but it kind of made it hard to concentrate."

Susan tightened her grip around her friend for a moment in a brief hug before she let go and moved to take a seat next to Hermione instead of returning to her original seat on the other side of the table.

"So, headaches?" Susan prompted after she'd made herself comfortable, and both of them had gotten their blushing under control.

"I'm not entirely sure," Hermione admitted. "Everything I said _was_ true. There's so much going on already this year that I didn't want to add to everyone's stress, but…" She trailed off, brow furrowed in thought and her teeth worrying at her bottom lip. "I just… I feel like they're connected to Daphne, somehow." She finally offered and Susan arched a brow at her again.

"Daphne, and Harry, for that matter, make my head hurt often enough, but I'm not sure it's in the same way you're implying," she said with a little grin.

Hermione laughed quietly for a moment, shaking her head in the negative.

"No," she said. "Not the same thing at all. I… since I woke up after being petrified… I can't look at Daphne. I can't talk to her, be around her, or even _think_ about her without this… this… _urgh_!" She propped her elbows on the table and let her head drop onto her hands.

"There's something I'm missing," she groaned. "I should know something, or I'm forgetting something. I… it's… it's right _there_! It's like a word that's on the tip of my tongue but I just can't remember!"

Susan moved closer and wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, drawing her into a warm hug as she let one hand gently stroke her hair. Hermione practically sagged against her, eagerly accepting what was offered and the two sat in silence for several minutes entangled together.

When Susan finally pulled back, Hermione appeared a bit calmer, if still agitated.

"I think you should see Madam Pomfrey about this," she said as gently as she could and resisted the urge to sigh, again, when Hermione shook her head, her brown locks bouncing back and forth with the motion.

"I'll go get a headache reliever, but I really don't feel like this is something she'll be able to help with."

"'Mione, please-"

"No, Susan," Hermione said, firmly. "I… I promise, if it get's worse, I'll talk to her, I just don't feel like it's necessary right now."

As Hermione started packing up her work, Susan allowed herself the sigh she'd held back before and glared, half-heartedly, at her friend.

"What about talking to Daphne?" she tried.

Hermione shook her head. "I tried that," she admitted. "Daphne is insistent that she has no idea what I'm forgetting."

When she reached for the books, Susan reached out and stopped her.

"Go," she told her. "Get something for your head and go lay down for a while. I'll take care of these."

Hermione nodded, giving her a grateful smile before she grabbed her dragon hide bag and stood, slinging one strap over her shoulder. "Thank you, Susan, I'll see you at dinner?"

Susan nodded, smiling herself until the other girl disappeared around one of the bookshelves and she allowed the smile to twist into a grimace.

"Why?" she asked the empty air around her. "Why did I get to bond with three of the most stubborn people in the whole bloody world?" She shook her head and started collecting the books, a frown marring her face as she went about placing them back in their appropriate spots on the shelves.

By the time all the books were put away and she'd packed up her own bag, she had the glimmer of an idea in mind. Susan hesitated for a brief moment before she set her shoulders and moved quickly from the room, her stride determined as her feet carried her through the castle, down one flight of stairs, until she arrived outside a very specific door. Before she could talk herself out of her chosen course of action she lifted her right hand, fingers curled into a tight fist, and knocked firmly on the door three times.

"Come ahead," a voice called from inside the room and she grabbed the latch, pulling the door open before she stepped inside, closing it behind her.

"Miss Bones? Is there something that I can help you with?"

"I hope so, Professor. Do you have a few minutes? I have… an unusual problem."

#####

"Arrogant, filthy, disgusting son of a…" Daphne trailed off in the middle of her muttered litany of insults to growl angrily. The entire day bad been nothing but a frustrating waste of time. Walking around the village, going only to the shops that Malfoy had been interested in, meaning she saw only the joke shop, the Quidditch supply store, and Honeydukes.

At least she'd bought herself and the other girls a small supply of chocolate at the last one, but she had wanted to go look through Gladrags and Scrivenshafts, or even Tomes and Scrolls. But no. After the three shops Malfoy stopped at, the entire rest of the day was spent sitting in the Three Broomsticks listening to that arrogant git ramble on about how amazing and rich he was.

That would have been bad enough, but after a time he'd started whispering to her supposed details of the contract that their fathers were negotiating. The various clauses he mentioned made her skin crawl and her stomach twist into knots. What was worse, she had no trouble believing that her father would easily agree to any or all of them, for enough gold.

She'd spent the entire trip in the carriage back up to the castle stewing in the information he'd given. If he was being truthful… she stopped in the middle of the path leading up to the castle entrance, her hands clenched into fists and her eyes screwed shut as she fought back the urge to vomit. Behind her eyelids, all she could see was his smug smirk and the mocking, superior tone of his voice rang in her ears as, unbidden, his words rose to the forefront of her mind.

" _Once we get back here after the Christmas break, you are going to belong to me. First night back, you will finally learn your place, on your knees, using that smart little mouth of yours to please your Master."_

Daphne gagged and turned to the side, bending over at the waist even as her stomach heaved in disgust. She managed not to puke, but the effort left her sweating and shaking as she wiped her mouth with the back of one violently trembling hand.

"And Parkinson," she snarled as she straightened and started back on her way toward the castle. "Glaring at me as if I'm stealing the little shite from her or something. Bitch has zero self respect if she actually _wants_ to be with him."

Pansy Parkinson had spent the entire time she'd sat with them in the tavern alternating between simpering and giggling at every other word that came out of Malfoy's mouth and trying to kill Daphne, simply by use of the heat of her gaze, alone. Daphne's own icy glare had caused the pug faced bitch to gulp nervously and focus her attention back on the blond ponce.

At one point during the day she'd seen Neville enter the tavern and was grateful to see the anger on his face at the sight of the Slytherin corner. That gratitude grew when he'd clenched his hands into fists and had stalked away to the bar. It had been obvious, to her, that he'd wanted to do or say something, but he knew better and he had managed to stop himself from making a scene. And, as much as a disappointment that it was that her bond mates couldn't come to the village like the rest of them, she'd honestly been relieved that Harry hadn't seen what Neville had. She honestly worried how much of the building would've remained standing after the nearly guaranteed magical outburst that would have poured off of the powerful wizard if he'd been forced to witness it.

As the day had worn on she'd wanted nothing more than to just leave and it had been the filth that Malfoy had spewed at her that'd finally had her leaving them behind, his mocking laughter following her all the way out of the tavern. She knew she'd be hearing about her behavior from her father, but at that moment she really couldn't have cared less. She'd just had to get away from Malfoy before she did something to the pig that would likely have come back to bite her in the worst possible way.

It wasn't until she reached the top of the steps leading into the entrance hall that she found herself presented with a conundrum. She wanted to see her friends. She wanted to spend time in the presence of the people she knew she was coming to love, an admission her mother had set in motion the year before that still frightened the hell out of her.

But, she was still mad at them. They were planning before her back, she knew it. At the least, they were talking about her and she really didn't like feeling left out. For two years, they had been a part of each others lives, so why were they pulling away from her now? Her confession over Hermione's petrified form the year before rose to the forefront of her mind and she felt a heavy sadness settle over her as it seemed the dream she had for her future grew further and further away. Her bond mates were pulling away from her. Her father was selling her contract to Malfoy, and it didn't look like Harry was going to bring up a counter offer. Malfoy had delighted in telling her the exact date that her life, as she knew it, would be over.

Her arms came up to wrap around her stomach, hugging herself as an icy knot twisted in her gut. In that moment, Daphne Greengrass had never felt more alone.

#####

"Are you sure I can't help?" Harry asked, his worried gaze locked onto Susan's deep blue eyes.

"Yes, Harry," she told him, gently. "First of all, we would get into a lot of trouble if you were included. Secondly, I think Daphne is more upset with Hermione and I, to be perfectly honest, than she is with you. And third… I'm sorry, but… well, you're still healing. I think this is going to be a far more emotional evening than you're really equipped to handle right now."

Harry was unable to keep the scowl off his face but he had to admit that she was probably right. When she'd found him an hour ago and told him about the trouble Hermione had been having, he'd been furious with himself for missing it. She assured him that she had a plan, though, and with any luck it would go a long way toward helping all of them.

"You and Neville just keep researching with Blaise, okay?" she said, placing a hand on his arms which were crossed over his chest. "Make sure that this plan of yours is going to work. Daphne deserves to make her own choice and that's what we all want for her, right?"

He nodded, some of the tension leaving his frame.

"I've already talked to Hermione a bit, but I'll do it again, and include Daphne on the openness issues that we have. We'll have to set aside some time for all of us to sit down but for right now, let me work on this."

He let out a sigh and finally uncrossed his arms, taking her hand in one of his own as he gave it a gentle squeeze.

"All right. Right after dinner we'll be in the Library so you know where to find us if you need us."

Susan smiled and nodded before letting go of his hand and together, the two of them headed into the Great Hall where dinner was just being served.

Hermione and Neville were both already sitting at the table along with Tracey, Hannah, Blaise, and Luna. Harry felt a small smile creep over his lips at the sight of the diminutive blond. So far, this term had been much better for poor Luna than the previous year had been. Harry was careful to watch for the signs they had ignored before, determined to make up for that mistake and had seen nothing to show that she was having any trouble at all.

When they sat at the table they were met with a round of greetings from their friends while Susan stashed her book bag underneath the bench to keep it out of the way. Five minutes later, Daphne slid into the empty spot to Susan's left, half way through Neville regaling them with the story of the new pet that was now living with Hagrid.

"Hagrid even named him already," Neville explained. "Decided to call him Snuffles."

Hannah, Tracey, and Blaise have Neville an odd look while Harry and the girls all snorted a small laugh in near perfect unison.

"I think I'll avoid meeting Snuffles for as long as I can, then," Hermione muttered.

"Why's that?"

"Fluffy and Norbert," Harry said raising two fingers on one hand. "Both very dangerous creatures with innocuous or even silly seeming names." He lifted one finger on his other hand. "Fang. A completely harmless coward of a dog with a scary or dangerous sounding name."

"Admittedly, that's not much of a sample size to go on,"Daphne pointed out.

"But Hagrid does seem to have a pattern when it comes to naming his pets. A dog he decides to name Snuffles is, in all likelihood, a dangerous animal to be around," Susan added, finishing off their explanation as their friends heads turned first from one of them to another as they went through their thoughts.

There were several seconds of silence as Hannah, Tracey, Blaise, and even Neville just stared at them before Blaise started to laugh, quietly under his breath.

"You know," he said, the four of you might not be as bad as the red-headed-devil-twins, but it's still freaky how inside each other's heads you all are."

The four of them exchanged a look and then shrugged, again nearly in unison, which had their friends laughing quietly in response to their actions.

"Maybe," Neville admitted in response to their concern over Snuffles after they all managed to get their amusement under control. "Snuffles is scary looking, and I'm sure he could be dangerous if needed, but he's just a big softy inside. He really reminded me a lot of Hagrid, honestly."

The bonded quartet shrugged again, which once more set their friends off, before conversation moved on for the remainder of the meal.

Just as they were finishing up and getting ready to leave the table a voice rang out from behind the four of them, causing all eyes to turn to the newcomer.

"Lord Potter, ladies," Professor McGonagall greeted them. The entire group chorused a greeting before the professor turned her attention back to the girls. "If I could speak with the three of you, please?"

Hermione and Daphne both took on a confused expression while Susan simply nodded her head.

"If you'll follow me then, ladies," she said before striding off, leaving the three girls to follow in her wake with Susan stopping only long enough to snatch her bag from beneath the bench and sling it over one shoulder as she hurried after them.

Harry's eyes followed them until they were out of sight and he turned back to the rest of his friends, an unreadable expression on his face.

"What was that about?" Neville asked, looking curiously at his best friend.

"Susan decided they needed to have a talk," Harry muttered roughly as he hedged around the question.

"Daphne has a particularly bad infestation of Wrackspurts at the moment, and Hermione needs help, too," Luna cut in, her breezy voice a soft counterpoint to Harry's harsher, more frustrated tone.

It was a testament to the character of each person in their group that none of them even batted an eye any longer when Luna came out with one of her usual bouts of oddity. Instead, Harry simply wrapped one arm around the slender girls shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"That's our Luna," he said. "Putting things in perspective for us."

The rest of them shared a quiet chuckle as Luna's pale features bloomed with a brilliant blush and Harry gave her shoulders a squeeze before he turned to Neville and Blaise.

"Come on, guys," he said. "Back to the Library, we've got work to do and I want to see how much we can work out before curfew."

The girls waved good bye to them as the three boys split off, heading for the Hogwarts Library while Hannah, Tracey, and Luna wandered in another direction, the older girls gently teasing the still blushing little blond. For Luna, a warm feeling burned in her chest as she reveled in the gentle, friendly teasing that was so different from the mean spirited words she'd suffered before from the member of her own House.

 _It really is wonderful, having friends,_ she thought.

#####

Susan kept her eyes firmly on the back of Professor McGonagall's robes as the elderly witch led them through the castle. She could feel Hermione and Daphne giving her questioning looks as they walked, but she did her level best to ignore them, for now. The whole situation would be made clear to them soon enough.

She _really_ hoped her idea would work, that it would help them.

Either minutes into their walk, Hermione's slight gasp told her that the other witch had figured out their destination. Two minutes after that had them coming to a stop in the seventh floor corridor across from a tapestry of a rather confused wizard that was attempting to teach trolls to dance ballet.

"Miss Bones?"

Susan nodded and stepped past the professor to open the door as their Head of House turned to address the other two girls.

"Earlier today, Miss Bones came to see me about a problem. She also suggested a possible solution to this problem. Normally I would never dream of allowing any students to spend an evening away from the dormitories that did not include a family emergency or a stay in the Hospital Wing, however, Miss Bones was most… persuasive in her argument."

Behind the professor a familiar looking door appeared in the wall, but Daphne and Hermione were too busy gaping in astonishment at their Head of House to notice or place where they'd seen it before.

"That being said," she continued, a stern glare in place as she eyed each girl in turn, "while I trust the three of you, more than I would trust most students, I will be keeping an eye out throughout the night. I do not expect that I will discover the presence of a certain wizard, who we all know happens to be in possession of an invisibility cloak entering this room at any time this evening, will I?"

"Professor!" Hermione blurted out, her face burning scarlet while the other girls cheeks warmed to match their bond mate.

"As difficult as it may be to believe, ladies, I _was_ young, once," McGonagall said, a small grin twitching at the corners of her lips as the girls sputtered incoherently for a few moments before getting ahold of themselves.

"What is going on?" Hermione finally asked, looking past their professor to Susan, who was still standing by the door she'd requested.

"We need to sit down and talk, and we need to do it sooner than later," Susan insisted, fidgeting nervously under the combined stares of her two friends. "Daphne's been upset with us all month, not that she's wrong to feel that way. Hermione we need to try to figure out what's going on with you and we all need to be more open, like we keep telling Harry. If we can't be open with each other, and him, how can we keep expecting him to open up to us? He's right to be upset with us still over what we kept from him, as valid as our reasons might have been at the start."

Daphne and Hermione glanced at each other, each silently attempting to gauge the other's reaction to Susan's idea. Finally, both girls let out a resigned sigh and nodded their heads.

"We'll need to head to our dorm first and get some clothes," Hermione pointed out. "I don't know about you two, but I don't intend to sleep in my school uniform."

"I've already got that covered," Susan said, lifting up the bag she had slung over her right shoulder. I grabbed us each something to change into and I talked to the elves in the kitchen as well, there was this one really excitable one that said he'd be happy to bring us drinks and snacks if need be.

"Why go to all this trouble?" Daphne enquired, speaking for the first time. "We could just as easily talk in the dorms."

"There are other people in the dorms and I'm not entirely certain this will be a calm discussion at all times. I figured, just in case there's any argument or disagreement, it might be better that we didn't have to worry about accidentally having an audience."

"With that in mind," the professor cut in, "I'll be holding onto your wands this evening," she finished, holding out one hand expectantly.

"You can't honestly think we'd attack each other!" Susan burst out. "I admit, I'm pretty sure there'll be some raised voices at one point or another, but we're friends and we care about each other."

"No, I do not think you will, however I would be remiss not to take precautions. And that is my final demand in order to allow this evening to happen. If you choose not to relinquish your wands at this time you can simply return to your dormitories and forget this entire idea."

Susan looked pleadingly to the other girls. She didn't like the idea of being separated from her wand much, either, but she really believed they needed to sit down and talk and some privacy was paramount. It didn't take too long, maybe a minute or two, but eventually, Hermione removed her wand from within her robes and gingerly held it out, handle first, toward her favorite professor. Susan quickly followed and then Daphne, with only slightly more reluctance.

"Thank you, ladies," the aged witch said as she carefully tucked the wands into her robes. "As I said, I will be checking on you periodically throughout the night. Obviously it would not be a good idea for you to be wandering the corridors without your wands, or after curfew so I will return at eight o'clock tomorrow morning to return your wands to you."

"Thank you, very much, Professor," Susan told her, meaning more than simply returning their wands to them tomorrow morning and the small smile she received in response spoke volumes.

Professor McGonagall placed one hand on Susan's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze muttering a quiet, "good luck," before she turned and strode briskly away, leaving the three girls standing outside the simple wooden door.

"Well, come on then," Susan chirped, attempting to sound cheerful and excited. "Let's get this show on the road."

Behind her, Hermione and Daphne both muttered something under their breaths but she paid them no mind as she grasped the brass door knob and gave it a quick turn before she pushed the door open and stepped into a nearly identical recreation of Susan's bedroom back at the Boneyard. She glanced around for a moment as the other girls filed in behind her and Daphne closed the door, which vanished moments later. The carpet beneath their feet, the furniture and decorations and the paint on the walls were all exactly as they were back home. The only difference was an increased number of doors in the walls.

To the right from where they entered was the simple door that Susan knew led to her private bath at home, and she had no reason to believe that this recreation didn't lead to exactly the same thing here. On the opposite side of her bed against the right wall was another door, which lead to her closet back home, but the two other doors were new additions and she had a guess as to where they lead. Striding around the bed she pulled open the 'closet' door to find a completely different room.

"All right," she said, spinning around and taking charge as Daphne and Hermione approached, looking more than a bit nervous. With Daphne it was difficult to tell, but they knew the beautiful blond well enough to spot the tiny signs that she wasn't entirely comfortable with her current situation. Susan slung her bag onto the recreation of her bed and reached in, pulling out two small knapsacks that she'd prepared earlier and handed one to each girl.

"We've got three changing rooms here," she explained as she pointed to each of the other doors. "Pick one, shower and change and… well… we'll just try to relax and talk, sound good?" Internally she winced. She'd started out strong, but by the time she reached the end she realized that her plan really wasn't much of a plan and she lost a lot of confidence in herself, and what she was saying.

Silently, Daphne strode for the door furthest away and quickly slipped inside while Hermione eyed Susan carefully for a few moments before she walked up and pulled the redhead into a hug.

"We'll get through it," she whispered in the other girls ear and gave her one final quick squeeze before she let go and took the door in the middle, closing it gently behind her.

Susan directed her eyes toward the ceiling for a moment before she pleaded quietly, "please, let this work," before she pulled her own clothes out and slipped into the last changing room.

Susan stripped out of her robes and uniform as if they were on fire and took, probably, the fastest shower of her life. The end result of her haste was that she was the first of the three of them to return to the bedroom dressed in the clothes she'd packed, despite being the last of the three to start getting ready.

She shivered slightly as her damp hair brushed across her shoulders and back and, with nothing else to do while she waited, she picked up a comb off of the bedside table, sat cross legged in the middle of the bed, and started to comb out her nearly waist length hair.

She had just finished tying her hair back into a simple braid when the other two doors opened, nearly simultaneously, and Daphne and Hermione cautiously came back into the room.

"Susan?" Hermione asked, tying a thin bathrobe shit as she walked into the room. "Where did these clothes come… from…"

When the doors opened, Susan threw her braid over her shoulder and stood facing the other girls, her hands fidgeting nervously against her thighs. Hermione looked up from the belt to her robe and her eyes widened, voice trailing off as both of them just stared at Susan for several long minutes.

Always before, the three girls slept in pajama pants and long sleeved tops, something they'd each, individually, been doing since they were very young. The habit of hiding the scars that covered their bodies was as much an ingrained thing as it was for Harry and even after nearly two years sharing a bed, they'd still rarely actually seen each other in much of any state of undress. The outfits that Susan had packed for this little sleep over were decidedly less covering than any of them were used to.

Susan was wearing a pair of black sleep shorts that barely reached the middle of her thighs and an extremely thin yellow camisole top with spaghetti straps that left a considerable amount of bare skin on display. The top hugged her already generous bust since she'd forgone wearing a bra with the light article and she had never felt more exposed or vulnerable in her life. Not even when they'd shown Harry their scars. At least that time it'd been the three of them to him alone, but now she found herself under the intense scrutiny of two shocked pairs of eyes and had to fight not to squirm under the combined weight of their gazes.

To compound this, she'd dispelled her usual glamours, leaving every scar and blemish that wasn't covered by her minimal clothing on display.

"Susan?" Daphne asked, her voice sounding slightly strained as she shifted her gaze to stare at the floor in front of her.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked and Susan took a deep breath.

"Openness," she told them. "That's been our biggest problem. None of us have been nearly as open with each other as we should be. Possibly Daphne and Harry more so than me or Hermione, but we're all guilty of it. I thought that we needed to talk, and I figured, that maybe if we were all a little… exposed, a little vulnerable… I don't know, it just seemed like a step in the right direction. To stop hiding from each other as much as we hide from the rest of the world. How many times have I told Harry that he doesn't need to hide from us, but that's all that we've been doing? Hiding. Keeping our scars covered. This summer, after we told him about the scars, we still kept hiding them with glamours even when we were in the privacy and safety of the Boneyard or at Hermione's house."

By the time she wound down she couldn't keep her hands still anymore and had clasped them tightly in front of her, fingers twining together as she shifted her weight lightly from one foot to the other.

Daphne and Hermione glanced at each other, each girls cheeks slightly pink, but eventually, Hermione took a deep breath and untied her robe, removing it and tossing it to the side followed by Daphne. They were each dressed in an identical outfit to Susan, except for the color of their top. Daphne's was a brilliant emerald green while Hermione's was a deep blue.

"Trying to tell us something with the colors?" Daphne asked, a smirk tugging at her lips as she made her way across the room to sit in one of the chairs near the fireplace and Susan's face lit up into a broad smile.

"I figured it would be fun to show off our House colors, if we hadn't all been sorted into Gryffindor," she said, joining Daphne in one of the other chairs. "The Hat said that you'd have been good in Slytherin, and it said that I had the loyalty for Hufflepuff and Hermione had the smarts for Ravenclaw." She shrugged. "I actually got a red tank top for Harry too while I was getting these, but I haven't given it to him yet," she admitted and Hermione laughed, a little nervously before she came over and joined them.

"When and why did you get these?"

Susan shrugged. "I actually got them over the summer and planned them as Christmas presents. Luckily I was able to get them sent over this afternoon from the manor so we'd have them tonight."

Hermione and Daphne both hummed a noncommittal sort of noise in the backs of their throats and settled a little more comfortably into their seats.

"So what now?" she asked, sitting carefully on the edge of her hair, her back straight, damp hair falling in a tangled mess around her face and shoulders.

Susan grinned. "Now… Dobby!"

A loud crack echoed through the room and in the space between the large fireplace and the coffee table, a house elf popped into existence causing both Daphne and Hermione to gape at his appearance.

He practically bounced in place where he stood, his little body vibrating with barely restrained energy and he was wrapped in a strange stripped toga like garment. It took about twelve seconds for Hermione to recognize the name from the story she'd been told the year before and then realize that the 'toga' the little elf was wearing, was actually the stripped hospital pajama top that Harry had used to trick Lucius Malfoy into freeing the little elf.

"What can Dobby be doing for the Great Harry Potter Sir's Missy Bonesy?" the little elf squeaked out in his high pitched voice.

Daphne couldn't suppress a snort and Hermione overcame her shock enough to grin at the excitable creature.

"Could you please dispel the glamours that Hermione and Daphne have on them?" she asked before glancing at the girls. "If that's okay?"

They nodded and Dobby literally bounced in place several times, his ears flapping up and down with the movement of his body.

"Dobby can be doing this," he squeaked out and snapped his long fingers. A moment later the glamours shattered, filling the air briefly with a sound like glass breaking before they fell away, revealing the scars that had been hidden beneath them.

"Thank you, very much, Dobby," Susan told him. "Are you enjoying working here in the castle?"

Dobby nodded so vigorously he nearly slapped himself in the face with his own ears.

"Very much Missy Bonesy. Dobby is getting one day off and _two_ Galleons a month for pay. Headmaster Whiskers is almost as great a wizard as the Great Harry Potter Sir, for paying such a lowly free elf."

"Well, I'm glad you're happy, Dobby. You might stop in and say hello to Harry sometime, I'm sure he'd be happy to learn that you're doing well. Before you go, could you set out the food and drinks we talked about earlier?"

"Yes, Missy Bonesy, Dobby can," Dobby snapped his fingers again and a moment later disappeared with another ear splitting crack as tubs of ice cream, bowls of chocolate frogs, licorice wands, platters of pumpkin pasties, pumpkin pie, and several self heating pitchers filled with hot chocolate appeared on the coffee table in front of them.

Susan's eyes grew wide at the sight of it all before she turned her attention to her equally startled bond mates.

"I did _not_ ask him for that much," she blurted out causing both to break out into a fit of giggles.

"He's certainly… enthusiastic," Daphne commented as she poured herself a mug of hot chocolate.

"How did you even know he was here?" Hermione asked, already reaching for one of the pumpkin pasties.

Susan shrugged. "I didn't, honestly. I went down to the kitchens earlier, just to ask for some help for tonight, and there he was. Little guy almost knocked me over when he ran up and hugged my legs."

Laughter filled the room after that and it seemed to be just what the needed to relax the tension in the air. Conversation started, haltingly, at first, but it grew as they started with relatively safe topics, even going over discussions they'd already had in the past.

Eventually, after more than an hour of hot chocolate and more junk food than was good for them, Hermione found herself sitting on the floor between Susan's feet. Susan had a towel draped over her lap and had pulled the still damp mass of Hermione's hair into her lap as she gently worked a brush through the tangle curls. Daphne was curled up in her chair, a blanket thrown over her own lap and another mug of hot chocolate clutched in her hands as Hermione sat, her eyes closed as she drifted under Susan's attention.

"I love your hair," Susan commented, suddenly, and Hermione made a disgusted face that Susan could see but had Daphne chuckling quietly.

"I hate it. It's always so out of control, I just can't do anything with it. I never really bothered much, either, I was always so focused on school and my books…" she trailed off and shrugged, somewhat self deprecatingly.

"Well… yeah I can see how you'd reach that conclusion," Susan admitted as she ran the brush through the other girls hair. "With how naturally curly it is it get's tangled so easily. It would definitely be a lot of work, but we could do some great things with your hair, if you want. It's such a rich color, and you've got these gold highlights in it that are just beautiful."

"You really think you can do something with all this mess?"

"It's only a mess because you're too practical to spend the time on it that it needs. Trust me, you let me take care of it each day and you'll be amazed what we can do with hair like this."

"Well… if you're sure, I'd like that." Hermione tilted her head back for a moment, looking up at the girl behind her with a small smile turning her lips. "Thank you, Susan."

"This was a good idea," Daphne spoke up a moment later while Susan had begun twisting Hermione's long hair into a braid similar to her own. "But are we actually going anywhere with this other than a simple hang out session?" she asked.

Susan took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh while her hands continued their work.

"There's a few points I think we need to work out. First, Hermione's nightmares and these headaches she's been getting, I think they're related and that all ties back to you, Daphne."

"I don't see how you come to that conclusion."

"I told you back at my house," Hermione interjected. "The nightmares… I swear I'm trying to remember something, but I can never quite get it. I just feel like something happened when I was petrified that I should remember, that I _need_ to remember, but I can't."

Daphne looked toward the fire, her fingers tightening around her cup.

"I don't know what to tell you, Hermione. I can't imagine what it is that you could be remembering when you were in an enchanted sleep, of a sort. None of the other victims remember anything from their time being petrified, so I don't see why you would."

"But none of the other victims have a Soul Bond," Susan pointed out. "Isn't it possible that we were able to reach her, even a little, because of the bond?"

Silence greeted that question and Susan finished off the braid, tying off the end with a hair tie.

"You told us that you spilled your guts to Hermione while she was petrified. You told her about that past of yours that you're still keeping from us," Susan said, trying to keep her voice calm and gentle. "Why can't you tell us about it now?"

"Why can't Harry tell us about his life at his relatives?" Daphne shot back. "Why can't the three of you, and Neville, tell me what it is you're hiding from me?"

Hermione and Susan both jerked at the anger in the blonds tone.

"That's different," Hermione tried.

"So you'll finally admit that you are hiding something. Every other time I've asked why you both get up before me and I see you four talking with your heads together you've told me it was nothing. So this whole last month you've been actively lying to me. At least when we didn't tell Harry about the scars and when Harry and I don't tell you about our past we're not lying. Everyone knows there's something unspoken and has accepted that we're not ready yet."

"Okay, I'm sorry we told you it was nothing. But we still can't tell you what we've been working on." Hermione pulled away from Susan and rose to her feet. "We're trying to help you, but we can't tell you about it, not right now."

"Why not?" Daphne demanded, also shooting to her feet, her mug landing on the table with a loud clunk as spikes of anger shot across the bond from both girls. Mixed in with Daphne's anger was fear, disgust, and despair, and Susan couldn't understand why. "My life is likely going to be destroyed in the next couple of months and the only good thing I have to hold onto has been pulling away from me. You want us all to be open and share with each other so why can't you share this with me? It is about me, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is but…" Susan trailed off, looking desperately to Hermione but the other girl was more than angry enough not to notice the pleading look.

"I'm sorry you feel like we've been pulling away from you but we've been trying to help you!" Hermione snapped, glaring at the blond.

"And I could help, too! I know the wizarding world better than you or Harry do."

"We've got Susan, Neville, and Blaise to help us."

"You don't trust me."

"You've been lying to me!"

Daphne jerked back as if she'd been slapped and the two of them fell silent for a moment, both girls red in the face and breathing heavily.

"What was that?"

"You've been lying for months, Daphne. I _know_ these nightmares have something to do with you. I wouldn't wake up screaming for you for no reason. I have _never_ , not once, called for Susan or for Harry with these things, it's always _you_ , and I'm positive you know why. I'm damn stubborn, you all know that, and I've been trying to figure it out for myself but I can't remember."

"And why is that my fault?" Daphne demanded. _There's no way she heard me. It's not possible._

"Because you said you told me about your past, and from your reluctance to talk about it to anyone that is actually awake and can hear you, it can't be good. Every time I call out for you, I'm scared, and so sad, and it's for you. I'm sad for you, I'm scared for you, and I'm fucking _angry_ for you!"

"No one asked you to be angry for me!" she shot back. _If I tell you you'll be angry_ at _me._

"Too bad! What'd I tell you last year? You belong to us and we belong to you. And we were supposed to work on all this long before now but things got away from us. I'm sorry for that. But we're here, Daphne. We're here for you and we want to help."

"Don't say that!" Daphne shouted.

Panic was truly beginning to set in. _If I tell them, they'll hate me. They'll be disgusted. It's better never to know, I don't want to see that look in their eyes._

Forgotten by the two arguing girls, Susan sat frozen in her chair, wondering just when the entire situation devolved into a shouting match, even though she'd suspected it might. Each word spoken in anger felt like a needle stabbing into her chest as clashing, violent emotions rolled across the bond. Somewhere in the distance, she could just barely feel Harry trying to push soothing feelings toward them but the two girls anger and Daphne's growing fear nearly drowned him out.

Hermione stepped around the table toward Daphne who had her arms wrapped around herself, her head down as if afraid to look at the other girls.

"What are you afraid of, Daphne," Hermione asked, her voice suddenly soft and soothing instead of shouting in anger. "Whatever happened to you wasn't your fault. I can't imagine that you honestly think we'd see you differently, or feel differently about you over something you can't control."

Daphne violently shook her head, her hair flying wildly about with each sharp motion.

"It doesn't matter," she muttered.

"Of course it matters, Daphne. You're important to-"

"It doesn't matter!" she snapped, cutting Susan off. "It doesn't matter, because before we get back from Christmas break, I won't be able to see you or Harry or any of our friends anymore."

 _If they won't have to deal with you anymore, then why not?_ The desperate, traitorous thought entered her mind and Daphne shook her head again, attempting to physically dispel the idea that had sprung up.

Hermione nearly stumbled she was so surprised and took another step toward Daphne.

"What are you saying?"

"Malfoy told me today. Father is going to sign the contract with Lucius Malfoy on Christmas Eve, and with what Draco said… if he wasn't lying, basically I'll be no more than a slave or a sex toy for him to use. I won't even be able to disobey him, the magic of the contract will ensure I follow every order he gives me." The horror and disgust in her voice was very nearly a palpable thing, like another presence in the room with them.

"That's not going to happen," Hermione insisted, heatedly. "I promise, we're going to figure a way out for you."

"You can't know that. I know the laws. I know how it works and I can't see any way out for me. I didn't even get to…" _Last time was terrible. She's awake now, not frozen._

"Don't worry about that. Whatever it is, you'll get to do it." Hermione reached out and gently tilted Daphne's head up, forcing the other girls tear filled, icy blue gaze to meet hers. "I promise. Harry promised. Susan and Neville promised. We're going to find a way."

Daphne licked her lips, just the tip of her tongue darting out for the briefest moment.

"I don't know that," she whispered. "And once that contract's signed… I'll never be able to… I'll never…" Her eyes squeezed tightly shut, her entire body rigid as Hermione stepped closer, officially invading the other girls personal space. Daphne could feel the warmth from her body, her breath brushing across her face, smelling faintly of chocolate and pumpkin.

 _You will never get another chance._

"Please," Daphne practically whimpered. "Please, don't hate me."

"We could never hate you, that won't happen. Can you please tell us whatever it is you mmph-"

Hermione's eyes shot wide open and whatever she'd been about to say cut off with a muffled sound as Daphne's hands came up, cupping either side of her face, and before she knew it her bond mates lips were covering hers in a desperate, passionate, kiss.

#####

Late in the evening a warm, clean, and happily full dog stretched out before the fire in Hagrid's hut. With his front paws crossed and his chin resting on top of them, he stared into the fire. His fur was clean and with his belly full for the first time in longer than he could remember, the urge to sleep was nearly overpowering.

It was amazing, how the simple things made life worth living.

Hagrid had been thrilled to meet him, and the newly christened Snuffles had been just as happy, bouncing and barking excitedly. Honestly, the half giant was a little _too_ thorough in his cleaning, so thought the dog, but there wasn't much he could really do about that. When Hagrid let him into the cabin after his overly thorough bath and a good rub down with a towel to remove the majority of the water, he'd happened a glance at a calendar on his way toward laying down in front of the fire to dry off the rest of the way.

October 2nd, 1993.

Halloween, he decided.

He knew, well enough, during most days it was nearly impossible to get the Gryffindor common room completely empty. But on Halloween, every single student in the school would be in the Great Hall for the holiday feast. The tower would be empty.

And besides, he decided as he closed his eyes to go to sleep, wasn't it just fitting that the traitorous rat would die on the anniversary of that night?

Snuffles the dog, or better known as Sirius Black in his animagus form, fell asleep that night, dreaming of revenge. It was easily the best nights sleep he'd had in twelve years.


	34. Think About It

**Author's Notes: The Rotten Writer, here, once again with a record breaking update as far as speed goes… I think. With the exception of the first few days where those chapters were already pre-written this has gotta be my fastest update yet.**

 **Anyway, this is just the aftermath, so to speak of the ending from our last chapter and should hopefully set the tone for future advancements with our favorite Soul Bonded quartet. Next chapter will include Halloween and then the Christmas break with the chapter after that.**

 **Not a lot more to say except WOOHOO! Broke 1,000 reviews last chapter so I'm uber excited and I want to thank everyone that commented and some I've even discussed aspects of the story with, which has helped me develop some new ideas in how to proceed with things. Thank you all and keep questioning and pushing me to improve, I love it.**

 **Disclaimer: I still own no part of Harry Potter and would greatly appreciate if no one sued me for playing around with JK's characters and world. Thank you.**

 **Here's Chapter 33 of Soul Scars. Enjoy.**

Soul Scars Part Three

The Greengrass Problem

By,

Rtnwriter

Hermione Granger opened her eyes and stared blankly at the animated Hollyhead Harpies poster that was in her direct view on the wall beside the bed. She was lying on her left side and, aside from opening her cinnamon colored eyes, she made no other movement as she took stock of her current situation.

More lightly dressed than she'd ever been, almost, the comforting, steady presence of two of her bond mates in the bed with her had suddenly taken on a very different feeling. The sensation of silky skin against her legs was an entirely new experience. The arm wrapped around her waist and the steady, warm breath brushing against the back of her neck were both very familiar.

The hand gently cupping her budding left breast was even a somewhat familiar occurrence, but after last nights surprising revelations, she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about what that implied.

Honestly, three girls in one bed, even those as large as their dorm rooms or Susan's bed at the Boneyard, it wasn't unusual for a hand to get caught in a top or to land across one of their chests when one of them shifted around in their sleep, and over the past two years, none of them had ever made a big deal out of it when it happened.

Hermione carefully shifted around in the bed until she was facing the blond that had been behind her, leaving Daphne's arm wrapped loosely around her middle to study her bond mate's peacefully sleeping face while her mind went over everything that happened the night before.

#####

How this had happened, she had no idea. One moment, she and Daphne had been in the middle of, easily, the worst argument they'd ever had, and she was trying to coax some kind of information out of the other girl. The next moment her brain shuddered to a grinding halt as an impossibly soft pair of lips covered her own and Daphne was kissing her.

 _Daphne was kissing her!_

The thought echoed loudly in her mind as one of the hands cupping her cheeks slid around, beneath the heavy braid Susan had made from her hair, to caress the back of her neck.

Why was Daphne kissing her?

 _Well, obviously, the girl likes you,_ her own voice whispered in the back of her mind.

But what about Harry?

 _We'll figure that out later, right now you need to kiss her back!_

But, I'm not interested in girls!

 _Who said anything about 'girls'? We're talking about Daphne._

Daphne _is_ a girl.

 _So? She is our bond mate first and foremost, girl second._

From the moment the kiss began, only a few seconds had passed as Hermione's mental debate occurred at an extremely high rate of speed. Not quite fast enough though. Whether she _wanted_ to kiss Daphne or not, Hermione knew that pulling away could be extremely detrimental to the other girls mental state and, just as she'd convinced herself to try kissing back, Daphne's eyes flew open and she suddenly jerked back.

"Oh, Goddess. I-I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" Daphne's voice trailed off into unintelligible muttering as she spun away and ran across the room, her honey blond hair streaming out behind her like a flag. She practically flew onto the bed and sat up against the headboard, her knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs and her face buried in a pillow as a muffled sobbing sound escaped her.

Slowly, Hermione turned her wide eyed stare to look at Susan who, she noted absently, did not seem as shocked as Hermione felt. She got as far as opening her mouth to speak when her vision went white and a searing burst of pain ripped through her head, causing Susan and Daphne to cry out even as it drove their bond mate to her knees.

"-ione… Hermione!"

"… true fear…"

"What?"

Hermione opened her eyes to find herself lying on the floor in the recreation of Susan's bedroom as provided by the Room of Requirement, with Susan kneeling next to her and a throbbing pain pulsing behind her eyes.

"Dobby!"

A crack split the air and Hermione groaned, her hands coming up to clutch at her head as Susan spoke to the energetic little elf. There was another, quieter, crack and then a soft hand was tugging at the one Hermione had clenched over her face.

"Here," Susan muttered in a soothing voice as Hermione felt a vial touch her lips. "Headache relief," she said and Hermione gratefully opened her mouth, dutifully swallowing the potion that passed her lips. She gagged at the taste, but in moments the pain in her head receded and she was able to sit up, one trembling hand accepting the mug of hot chocolate that Susan helped her drink to wash the taste from her mouth.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered once she was able to open her eyes without pain and Susan gave her a watery smile before helping her to her feet. A glance over to the bed showed that Daphne hadn't moved, save to lift her head, wide, tearful eyes watching her carefully.

With Susan's help to steady her, Hermione walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. When Susan went around and climbed in from the other side to sit in the middle, Daphne tried to draw away from them, but was stopped by the headboard. Hermione closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, taking a few moments to carefully organize her thoughts before speaking.

Finally, she opened her eyes and looked directly into Daphne's icy gaze. "You kissed me," she said.

"I'm sorry!" Daphne blurted out. "I didn't meant to. I just… I wanted…" She trailed off when Hermione raised one hand in a stopping gesture.

"I'm not talking about just a few minutes ago," she said. "I'm talking about before, last year, while I was petrified." She leaned forward her eyes never leaving Daphne's widening gaze and whispered quietly, "I remember."

Daphne said nothing and simply stared, unable to look away as shock, fear, and shame shattered her Occlumency shields and flooded across the bond.

"What do you remember" Susan asked, a little confused and the brunette turned her head to look at her.

"I remember being petrified," she explained. "Most of the time it just… just hurt. I couldn't see or hear or feel my body, but the bond hurt, so much. But whenever you two, or Harry, were around, I could hear you talking, and that made it hurt less."

She paused and licked her lips, her mouth feeling dry.

"I remember you coming to visit me in the Hospital Wing late one night," she continued, turning her attention back to Daphne. A moment later she suddenly grinned and barked out a laugh. "I heard Dobby blast Lucius Malfoy across the wing!"

That got the other girls, both, to laugh, though Daphne's was weak and shaky.

"You sat by my bed and you told me the truth about how you grew up. You told me your greatest fear. And then you kissed me."

Daphne shook her head, violently.

"That's not possible," she insisted. "Petrified victims can't hear."

"'And that is my true fear. That, I think, is what has been holding me back from our bond. The fear that I will truly come to love all three of you, but that I will forever be apart from you all. Married to a man that I cannot feel a true attraction to, and married to two, beautiful women, that will never be attracted to me'."

Daphne's mouth dropped open as she heard her own words quoted back to her and she finally had no choice but to accept that Hermione _did_ hear her that night, and her biggest secret was out there, in the open.

"Morganas tits-"

"Susan!"

"Oh, stuff it 'Mione. You dropped a 'fuck' back there when you two were arguing," Susan snapped off at her favorite bookworm, whose mouth opened and closed soundlessly several times while Susan directed her attention back to their blond.

"Daphne, is that really what you've thought all this time?"

Wordlessly, the girl nodded.

"See?" Susan burst out, startling the other girls with her sudden volume. "This is exactly what I mean. We _need_ to be more open with each other. If you'd only said something…" Susan moved around so she was sitting next to Daphne and pulled the other girl into her arms.

"All right," she said, after making herself comfortable. "No more hiding crap, right now. I'm going to ask you a question, and I want a simple, yes or no answer from you, understood?"

Daphne attempted to protest but Susan simply talked over her. "Understood?" she repeated, arching one brow at the flummoxed blond in her arms, who finally sighed in defeat and nodded her agreement.

"Daphne, do you consider yourself to be a witches witch?"

There was silence for nearly a minute before they heard a very quiet, "yes."

At Hermione's questioning look, Susan explained. "Witches witch is, obviously, a term for the wizarding world. The nonmagical equivalent would be a lesbian."

Hermione nodded to let her know that she understood.

"So, all this time, you've been worried this bond has trapped you into a life where you could never be completely happy," she muttered.

"Daphne, why? Why didn't you tell us? Why not talk to us?" Susan asked.

"You know just as well as I do how badly our world views such things, Susan," Daphne whispered. "I couldn't even admit it to myself until we woke up after Hermione and Neville were attacked last year. My mothing forced me to actually say it out loud for the first time that night.

"Bones is an old family, and I have no idea how they would react, and I know the muggle world doesn't have much of a better view on same sex relationships, either. If I said anything, and found out you were disgusted, or hated me…" She broke off and shuddered, miserably.

"Well, I don't know about the Bones family, but Auntie always taught me never to judge others by who they are but by their actions." She shrugged one shoulder. "Hell, for all I know my aunt could be a witches witch, herself. She's never dated, that I've ever seen, and never mentioned any men that she found attractive."

"My parents taught me pretty much the same," Hermione said, moving over to sit on Daphne's other side from Susan, trapping the blond between them. "Yes, a lot of nonmagical society is against same sex couples, but I was always taught that as long as they're happy and no one is being hurt, or forced, then it's none of my business, anyway."

They lapsed into silence after that as relief filled Daphne and Hermione found herself turning this new information over in her mind. A minute later Susan moved, catching Hermione's attention and she turned her head, just in time to see her tuck her fingers under Daphne's chin, tilt her head up, and then lean down to capture the startled bond's lips with an extremely gentle kiss.

When she pulled away, Susan giggled at the surprised expression on both of the other girl's faces.

"Just so we're clear," she said, "I've always been equally attracted to both boys and girls. So, even if you never are attracted to Harry, or if Hermione doesn't feel that way about the two of us, you will always have me, Daphne Greengrass."

#####

After Susan's surprising declaration, there hadn't been much more in the way of talking. The three girls had sat in bed for some time, each of them silently consumed by their own thoughts until they had, eventually, drifted off to sleep.

"You need to stop that."

The quietly whispered words pulled Hermione out of her thoughts and her absent gaze snapped into focus to find a pair of icy blue eyes staring at her. At the questioning look in her eyes, the arm Daphne had wrapped around her middle came up and, very gently, almost hesitantly, she cupped the bushy haired witches chin. Placing her thumb beneath her bottom lip, Daphne gently tugged it from where it had been trapped between her teeth.

Hermione blinked in surprise, her mouth dropping open slightly. She hadn't even noticed that she had been chewing on her lip.

"It's a habit," she admitted, also in a whisper.

"I know. I've noticed for a long time, now. It's ridiculously cute."

Hermione blinked again.

"Cute?" she squeaked and Daphne let out a quiet chuckle as she nodded.

"Last year, when Harry was hurt by that bludger of Dobby's. Walking to dinner that night, that was when you first said that I belonged to all of you and that you all belonged to me, remember?"

Hermione nodded.

"You were chewing on your lip, then. I… I almost kissed you, that time. That's why I kept looking away from you."

A strange feeling made its presence known to Hermione at that declaration. An unusual churning sensation in her stomach that she couldn't quite name and she found herself shifting a little uncomfortably in her spot in the bed. That action had her acutely aware of the feeling of Daphne's legs again her own, and the skin of the other girls arm where it brushed against her side in the gap that had appeared between the waist of her shorts and her thin top.

"I'm straight," she blurted out and then immediately groaned, slapping a hand over her face. "Wait, let me try that again, please?" she almost begged as she peeked between her fingers. Daphne's expression was unreadable, but she nodded silently for Hermione to continue.

"I've known about… about sex and how physical relationships work since I was eight," she tried to explain. "You know how much I love to read and I don't always read textbooks. Some of the books I found growing up were really not appropriate for my age, but they were words on paper, I read them anyway. Even knowing that, intellectually, I can't honestly say that I was ever really attracted to anyone until pretty recently, but even back when I first learned about it, I always felt I would be attracted to men."

Daphne nodded again as her face became even more impassive and she started to pull away, but Hermione's arm snaked around the blond's waist and pulled her back.

"I'm not finished," she said, allowing herself a small smile at the flicker of surprise that flashed across Daphne's face before it vanished. After waiting a moment to see if Daphne would pull away again, she relaxed her grip, but left her arm wrapped around the other girl.

"I don't think I've ever actually considered the idea of… of kissing a girl o-or being with a girl," Hermione murmured as a telling warmth grew in her cheeks. She did her very best to ignore that and pushed on, never letting her eyes stray from Daphne's. "That kiss, last night… I'll admit it wasn't at all unpleasant… but I also can't say I would particularly want to do it again, either.

"I guess… I guess right now, all I can say is that I don't really know how I feel about all this, for me. I don't care that you like girls, or that Susan likes boys and girls. I meant what I said last year, and last night, you belong to us and we… I belong to all of you, too. I'm not going to turn away from you two. You and Susan and Harry, the bond we have is more important than that.

"Really, all I'm asking is that we carry on, and just… just give me time to think about all of this. I can't make any promises other than I won't make any hasty decisions. I promise, I'll really think about it, and when I know how I feel, you'll be the very next person to know, okay?"

Daphne's silence after she finished stretched long enough that Hermione found herself fighting the urge to fidget, nervously. Finally, the blond let out a long sigh and nodded.

"I'm not going to lie to you. That isn't what I hoped you would say. But I'll take 'not now' over 'not ever' any day." Hermione opened her mouth but Daphne quickly placed two fingers over her lips before she could speak. "I know, it very well could be 'not ever', but I choose to hope that you just need time to come around. Please, just let me have that."

Sheepishly, Hermione nodded, reminding herself that there was no harm in letting Daphne hope, as long as she made sure not to string the girl along. She would think very carefully over how she felt and get the girl an answer as quickly as she could, one way, or the other.

"Also, I promise not to push you, as best I can. Now that it's all out in the open, honestly, it'll be difficult not to flirt, at least a little. But I'll try."

"You can flirt with me all you want," a sleep roughened voice came from Daphne's other side and she turned onto her back under Hermione's arm so they could both see Susan, laying on her stomach, slowly lift her head and blearily open her eyes.

"Did I say that out loud?" she asked a moment later and both girls nodded. "Oh." She seemed to think about that for a moment before bobbing her head. "I stand by my statement."

Daphne grinned and started to lean toward the redhead before she paused and glanced at Hermione who rolled her eyes and lifted her arm from around Daphne's waist as she gestured toward them.

"Oh, go on and kiss her," she said, laughing slightly as Daphne's grin widened and she proceeded to do exactly as she was told. Leaving them to it, Hermione slipped out of the bed and went to change back into her uniform from the night before, that would do until they got back to the dorm and could get clean clothes.

Just before the door to the changing room closed, she heard one of them idly wonder aloud, "so, does all this mean that I have a girlfriend?"

#####

"Ladies, your wands," Professor McGonagall said by way of greeting when she arrived at the room at eight o'clock, precisely, that Sunday morning. She stood in the open doorway, one hand outstretched with the girl's wands held loosely in her grip.

"So, I trust the issues have been resolved?" she asked after each girl had collected her own wand and tucked it away. The three of them exchanged a look, small smiles turning up the corners of their lips.

"To be fair, not entirely, Professor," Hermione admitted, "but I think we can honestly say that we all have a much better understanding of each other and we should be doing much better going forward."

"That is good to hear, then." She favored the three of them with one of her rare smiles before she drew herself up and controlled her expressions. "I trust you three are capable of finding your own way back to your dormitory?"

They assured her they could and she bid them a pleasant day before leaving them to make their own way back to the tower. At first, Hermione expected things to be different, or to feel different, somehow. Instead, as they started walking Susan fell into step on her right side with Daphne claiming her left side just as they always had.

"We're not together," Susan said after a minute of walking and Hermione turned to give her a quizzical look. "Daphne and I," she explained. "We discussed it really quick while you were changing and decided that we, that is the four of us, would be better if Daphne and I didn't start a relationship right now. Harry is still not emotionally capable of dealing with something like that and we're agreed that, whatever happens between us girls, we're all intent on marrying that boy, eventually, right?"

Hermione nodded.

"We figure, why complicate things right now? Boys mature a little slower than girls do, and Harry has more obstacles than the average boy. So, until he's ready to look at the idea of being with us, we kind of feel like it'd be cheating on him, in a way, for us to be together."

"And before you bring up the point about this being counter to Susan's argument about us all being more open, let's put it this way. We're not going to date, or tell Harry about our feelings for each other until we can discuss the matter with Healer Gant at the very least. Us all being open with each other is important, yes, but that doesn't mean we have to know every minute of each other lives, either. We do still need privacy and some things for ourselves too. You know more about psychology than we do, though, so we're mentioning this now in order to get your opinion. We think it's better for us to all just keep being friends, open up a little more about our lives, but not push anything more, really. We basically need to move at Harry's pace here, and as far as we know he's not at the relationship point."

Hermione considered that for a minute in silence before she, somewhat reluctantly, nodded.

"I hate to say it, but you might be right. If you two had decided to date and be together, that'd be different. Like you said, though, we need to talk to his Healer as soon as possible and get his take on things." Absently, she chewed on her lip a moment before hesitantly bringing up another topic that had occurred to her while she was changing. "About… um… about our sleeping arrangements…"

When she trailed off, blushing brilliantly, Susan and Daphne glanced at each other around the witch between them.

"We'll move to one of the other beds if it makes you uncomfortable Herm-"

"No!" she blurted out, cutting Susan off as her face reddened even further. "No… I… I like sharing with you two. I'm used to having you both around and I've honestly hated sleeping alone during the summers when I'm with my parents. I just… I guess I just wanted to know how you two felt about it. I don't want to lead either of you on or anything and…"

Daphne stopped and placed a hand on Hermione's arm, causing her and Susan to stop and face her.

"Hermione, we understand you don't know how you feel, right now. You were honest with us, and we get that you need time to figure out what you want and how you feel about our entire situation. I already promised not to push you, and I know I joked about flirting with you but I want you to know I won't ever do anything to make you uncomfortable if I can help it. If you want to keep sharing a bed with us we can do that and know that it's just sharing because we're used to it and we take comfort in each others company. There doesn't need to be anything more to it than that, unless or until you're ready for more."

Hermione practically lunged at Daphne, gratefully wrapping her arms around the other girl in a rib creaking hug. A moment later Susan found herself similarly engulfed before Hermione got herself under control and they continued on their way to the tower.

It was only a handful of minutes later that they hit the hallways leading to the portrait entrance and their attention was caught by the sound of pounding footsteps approaching them.

"It's about bloody time," Neville burst out as he ran up to them.

"Language."

"Yeah, yeah, lecture me later," he almost snapped at Hermione, causing all three girls to draw up short as he stopped and spun around. He grabbed one of Hermione's hands and one of Susan's and started pulling them toward the portrait at the end of the hall. "Hermione, grab ahold of Daphne, I only have two hands."

Despite protests from all three girls, Hermione did grab ahold of Daphne with her free hand as Neville almost dragged them into the common room where he stopped and dropped their hands before he pointed toward their usual spots by the fireplace.

"You broke him, you fix him."

Turning to look, their mouths dropped open when they spotted a disheveled and bleary eyed Harry Potter pacing slowly back and forth in front of the fire.

"What the hell happened?" Daphne blurted out.

"You guys tell me," Neville shot back. "Late last night he just starts freaking out. Kept saying you three were really upset and he didn't know what was going on. He hasn't slept at all, as far as I know. He even tried to sneak out to the Room, but McGonagall caught him. He said she only docked a few house points after he explained why he was out but she refused to let him go see you."

As Neville explain, they had been making their way across the Common Room and as soon as they reached him, Hermione stepped into Harry's path and pulled him into a hug. For the first time in a long while, he stiffened up completely at the contact, but a moment later his muscles seemed to melt as he realized who was holding him and his arms came up to wrap tightly around Hermione's middle.

"Daphne was scared," he muttered, his face buried against her neck. "Susan felt lost and you were angry, then you were in so much pain. What happened?"

Hermione felt more than saw as Daphne and Susan joined them, one on either side as their arms wrapped around both her and Harry.

"I'm so sorry, Harry-"

" _We're_ sorry," Daphne corrected her.

"Yes, we are sorry, we… well, honestly we had a pretty bad argument last night. We worked everything out, but we should have gotten a message to you."

Harry shrugged one shoulder, almost listlessly. "It's okay," he said, attempting to brush off the apology but Hermione pulled back and shook her head.

"No, it isn't okay, Harry," she insisted. "It wasn't intentional, but we hurt you. I can imagine how bad that felt, not knowing what was going on and we should have thought of that. We're connected, so we really shouldn't have forgotten that you would need some reassurance that we were all right and that nothing was wrong. We're sorry, and we'll try not to make that mistake again."

He studied her for a moment before nodding.

"It really is okay," he told them. "Just… let's all try to remember for the future?"

The three of them nodded in complete agreement and Neville blew out relieved sigh.

"You three got him, then?" he asked and they nodded again.

"Thank you, Neville, for keeping an eye on him for us." Daphne moved away from her bond mates and wrapped her arms around Neville, squeezing him tightly for a moment before she pulled back.

"Yeah, thanks, Nev," Harry added. "I'm sorry I kept you up."

"No worries, Harry. Where a Potter goes…"

"A Longbottom stands beside him."

"That doesn't just mean heading into battle. Personal crises fall under that category. Whenever you need me, Mate." Neville gave them a wave and headed up the stairs to the dorm, intent on getting some sleep.

Once their friend was gone, Hermione shot the other girls a look, to which they nodded silently and directed Harry away from his usual chair and to the sofa the girls typically took for themselves. Before he realized what was happening, he found himself sitting in the middle with the two girls cuddling up to his sides, Susan on his right and Daphne claiming his left side.

For a moment he thought to question what was going on, but he was honestly too tired to think on it. Besides, he couldn't deny that it was a nice feeling, having the girls there with him after the worry he'd suffered wondering if they were okay.

While Daphne and Susan were busy getting Harry settled on the sofa, Hermione was thinking. Her mind rapidly pulled up plans, reworked them, scanned them, discarded them, and, finally, settled on a very new course of action far different from what she and the other girls had already discussed.

With her mind made up, she walked over to the sofa and, as calmly as she could, she plopped herself down on Harry's lap.

She almost, _almost_ , burst out laughing when his eyes seemed to bulge out of his head, but managed to hold it in by focusing on making herself comfortable. She stretched her legs out across Susan's lap and leaned against Daphne's shoulder as the blond shifted slightly to allow Hermione to lean against her for support.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, his voice cracking slightly and she glanced at him.

"Yes, Harry?" she asked in a calm and all too innocent tone of voice.

"W-what are you doing?"

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Harry, what does it look like I'm doing? I'm getting comfortable."

"On my lap?"

"Yes, Harry."

He really didn't know what to say to that but, everything else that Harry Potter was aside, he _was_ also still a thirteen-year-old boy with three very attractive teenage witches in extremely close physical proximity to him. He decided that, since Hermione seemed so unconcerned by the whole situation that it would do him no good to worry about it and simply tried to relax as best he could.

"So, what happened last night?" he asked after a few minutes passed where the four of them settled into their spots on the sofa.

"We talked. Daphne and Hermione argued-"

"Hermione said 'fucking'," Daphne offered with a grin and the witch in question flushed brilliantly as Harry shot her a quizzical look.

"I was very upset," she muttered while she did her best to hide her face between his and Daphne's shoulders.

The three of them chuckled quietly for a moment at her expense before she pointedly cleared her throat and they settled down to continue their discussion.

"Honestly, we really did get a lot worked out," she started, then they proceeded to tell him some of what they'd resolved the night before. They explained how they agreed that they needed to be more open with each other and apologized again for how they'd been pushing him to open up without reciprocating. They explained how Hermione's memory came back from when she was petrified and, with a little encouragement, Daphne repeated what she told Hermione that night in the Hospital Wing for Harry's and Susan's benefit, minus any reference to her orientation.

It took them a few minutes to calm Harry after he heard that, rather edited version of what she'd suffered growing up before they were able to continue.

"I'm still not sure what it is you guys have been hiding from me, and I'm still not happy about that, but I'll admit I was far more upset about it than I really should have been. I can only blame stress and fear and I'm sorry for how I acted," Daphne said, finishing off their explanation.

"Well, I'm not going to say it's okay, but it is understandable," Hermione murmured, leaning her head back some so she could look up at Daphne. "And that kind of thing is exactly why Susan forced that little heart to heart on us. Like we said last night, Harry has been right to be upset with us for not sharing more of ourselves and we just need to keep working on that as we go along.

Daphne's smile was warm, and the arm she had wrapped around Hermione's back tightened briefly as she squeezed the other girl.

"I'm sorry, too, for keeping this from you, Daphne."

The two witches turned their attention to Harry.

"Can you explain _why_ I can't know what's going on? That would help I think."

Harry considered that, his lips pursed in thought as he stared into the fire for a few minutes before turning his attention back to her.

"Say I told you something, in confidence, but you weren't bound by any kind of oath or something. If your father asked you for any information regarding me, what would you do?"

Daphne blanched at that, her face twisting in disgust.

"House Duty would require me to tell him in as much detail as I am capable of," she admitted. "But you know I'd be willing to swear an oath."

"We know," Susan told her. "But Luna was right last year, oaths really are not something to take lightly or play around with. They're dangerous and it's only a couple more months and this will all be over."

"We don't want to put you into a position where you might have to choose between lying to your father or telling him about us. I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. I'm just trying to make sure that I have made every possible effort to get you out of this without resorting to methods I don't care for."

Daphne held up her hand to stop him from saying anything else.

"I understand," she said. "Don't say anything else. Father hasn't asked me for any specific information, but that doesn't mean he won't at some point, so better to be safe than sorry. You're right, in that I can't tell him what I don't know."

They lapsed into silence for a moment before Hermione checked her watch and winced.

"Breakfast is almost over," she told them as she stood and stretched. "I think we should all shower and change and we'll head for the kitchens to grab something to eat?"

Daphne and Susan both agreed and quickly stood but Harry shook his head, slowly dragging himself to his feet.

"I'm knackered," he said. "I think I'll just go lie down for now, try to get a nap in." He gave each of them a quick hug and started for the stairs climbing them slowly until he disappeared from view.

Hermione let out a startled noise when she suddenly found each of her hands being grabbed as both Susan and Daphne practically dragged her up the stairs and into their dorm where they chivied her into her bed, drew the curtains, and cast a half a dozen silencing and privacy spells at the bed curtains.

"Okay, just _what_ was that all about?" Susan demanded once they were certain they wouldn't be overhead. "Making yourself comfortable on his lap like that wasn't exactly in the going at Harry's pace idea, was it?"

Hermione blushed but shook her head.

"No, it wasn't. But a few thoughts occurred to me, and I decided there really wasn't any harm in giving Harry a little bit of a nudge."

Susan and Daphne both just stared at her for several long moments, their faces unreadable and their Occlumency shields in place, lest they leak their emotions to Harry and disturb his much needed rest.

"Okay," Susan said, finally, drawing out the word for several seconds. "You said a few thoughts occurred to you. Like what?"

Hermione settled back against the headboard of her bed and crossed her arms over her chest as her face settled into an expressions that her bond mates had taken to calling her thinking expression. Her eyes were focused on a point seemingly a few feet in front of her, her jaw set in a firm expressions as her brow furrowed, just slightly, indicating that the wheels of her brain were spinning at an alarming rate. Daphne counted in her head and right on time, Hermione's bottom lip was drawn between her teeth as she chewed on it for several long moments before her eyes focused and she looked up at them.

"I've never really considered the possibility of being romantically linked to another girl," she said and Daphne blinked.

"You already mentioned that, Hermione. We understand you need time-"

"No, that's not what I'm getting at," Hermione cut her off, shaking her head. "No, I was thinking about the bond and us as a group. It's something we all know, but I think we tend to forget it now and then because for years we never considered it. Before we met Harry, we all thought that it was just us, bonded to a boy, right?"

The girls nodded.

"And for all that time, that's what it was. But we bonded to each other as well at our sorting. We're all four of us equal in this bond, and the information we got from the Goblins isn't complete but it was clear about one thing. Two people _cannot_ be bonded that aren't compatible with each other. So… while I may not have ever considered the idea, the fact that I'm bonded to the two of you, as well as to Harry would seem to indicate that I must have the capacity to be with you as well as him, even if I don't know that for sure myself, yet."

Susan's face took on a thoughtful expression as she considered that while Daphne looked resigned.

"Mother is never going to let me hear the end of this," she groaned. "When you were petrified, the night that she forced me to admit aloud I had developed feelings for you two… she said that this bond wouldn't have happened if we couldn't all be happy with each other. At the time, she was talking about my worry that you two might never feel for me what I was starting to feel for you, but… that could also easily mean that maybe I could feel the same for Harry, couldn't it?"

"I think it could, Daphne," Hermione told her as gently as she could. "As long as you're willing to consider it, even if you don't find other men attractive, you might find, because of how close we are and how close we can still likely get, that Harry might be the exception to that rule, for you."

Daphne's frown was thoughtful and Hermione squeezed her shoulder as she climbed out of the bed and picked up her bag.

"Just think about it. I'm going to go write a few letters. I'm hoping that Healer Gant might be able to answer a few questions, or at the, least arrange a time to meet with us to talk without compromising his oaths. We don't actually know how much he can get away with telling us."

Daphne didn't respond. She didn't actually appear to have noticed Hermione had even moved from the bed.

"Go on," Susan told her, a small smile on her lips as she looked at their distracted bond mate fondly. "I'll keep an eye on her and we'll grab an early lunch in a while instead of a late breakfast."

Hermione mouthed 'thank you' and scurried from the room, making a mental note to do something special for Susan in the near future to thank her for all the effort the girl had been putting in getting them to finally talk to each other. Without Susan, Hermione honestly shuddered to think how much worse things could have gotten.

Setting up at her favorite table, she pulled parchment, ink, and her favorite quill from her bag and, after a moments thought quickly dashed off a letter meant for Harry's Healer. After completing that letter and waiting for the ink the dry she rolled it up, sealed it, and set it aside before she turned her focus to what would be a far more difficult letter.

 _Dear Mum,_

 _Daddy, if you're reading this with mum right now, you might want to excuse yourself. Girl talk, trust me, you DON'T want to know. If you don't, well, don't say I didn't warn you._

 _Is he gone?_

 _Oh well, fingers crossed that he took me seriously._

 _Mum… HELP! I don't know what to think or how to feel and I'm really trying not to panic._

 _Okay, start at the beginning, right? That's what you and daddy have always told me so, here it goes. Mum, last night, Daphne kissed me, and I've remembered, now, that wasn't the first time…_


	35. Great Balls of Fire

**Author's Notes: The Rotten Writer, here once again, ladies and gents with another, faster, update for Soul Scars.**

 **Now, I know I said before that this chapter would see us looking reaching Halloween, but I realized as I was writing that I had enough things to do and enough stuff to lay out that the title length was really starting to get out of hand. We're at a little shy of 12k words in length as it is and if I'd added in the extra for Halloween, I swear this thing would have topped two updates ago for longest chapter yet, and that one was almost 19k in length. So, I figured I would do the smart thing and find a good stopping point here so that it wouldn't get too unwieldy and we'll hit Halloween next time, I swear.**

 **I know I'm leaving a lot of unanswered questions with this chapter, but hey, that kinda seems to be what I do. Some characters are going to have a very bad day in the not too distant future, I'm sure you're all looking forward to it.**

 **Anyway, I didn't really have too much else to say before jumping into things, just wanted to address quickly some reviewers concerns. Yes, the relationship situation is… tricky, at best, at the moment. But I do have a specific reason for doing things as I have been, and I promise it WILL all make sense in the end. I understand some people are getting frustrated with the, apparently, asinine mistakes made by some of our characters here, but as mature as I've written them, they ARE still kids. They WILL make mistakes, some monumentally dumb ones to us more mature readers. But things will be worked out in the end, I assure you.**

 **Disclaimer: I still own nothing, not even the house I live in.**

 **With that said, here is chapter 34 of Soul Scars!**

Soul Scars Part Three

The Greengrass Problem

By,

Rtnwriter

"Am I still in exile?"

Emma Granger looked up from her spot at the kitchen table to see her husband peeking around the doorway, as if worried she would throw something at him.

"You were never in exile," she said, laughing lightly at his behavior. "You just need to trust that our daughter knows her father. When she says you don't want to know, you should respect that.

He sighed, coming the rest of the way into the room and took a seat across from her at the table.

"I know," he admitted. "It's just… even if I don't want to know… she's my little girl, and if something is wrong, well, I _do_ want to know, ya know?"

Her smile was understanding, and she reached across the table to grasp his hand. "I know, love, and that is part of what makes you such a wonderful father, and husband. But don't forget, she has two parents. This particular situation… I wouldn't say that something is _wrong_ exactly, but she was concerns and questions and, really, this is the kind of thing she needs her mum for."

Dan did appear particularly happy with that explanation but squeezed his wife's hand.

"She didn't say I _couldn't_ know," he tried and then had to quickly continue before she could speak. "Just, hear me out," he begged. "You've read her letter at least three times by now, I would imagine. I'd trust your judgement. I just want to know what's going on in my daughters life and help any way I can."

"I know, Dan," she said, sighing quietly before she settled back to consider his point, chewing idly on her lower lip for a moment.

"Our daughter is fourteen-years-old," she said. "She's growing up and her… relationships with the people around her are going to change as time goes on."

Dan arched a brow at that. "I wouldn't have thought that Harry would be emotionally stable enough for relationship thoughts to even occur to him."

"Not Harry."

"Oh?"

She nodded, her lips twisting into a grin. "You owe me ten pounds."

He blinked, pausing for a moment before his other eyebrow joined the first. "Oh!" He shifted a bit nervously in his seat. "Amelia was right, then?"

"Seems that way."

"So… a girlfriend."

"No."

"Wait…. What? You said…"

"She's not dating anyone, but… well, something came up and Hermione now has questions. She's not sure, and really doesn't know how she feels about the whole thing."

"And there's not a lot we can do to help her."

"Actually, there is. I'm going to do my best to offer advice, and you're going to love and support her, just as you always have. Like I said before, we're not always going to be able to help her with everything, but we'll always be her parents and she'll always be our daughter."

He hesitated for a moment before nodding, seemingly resigned.

"Anyway, unless you have any other questions, I'm going to get started on a response."

"Just one. Who?"

"It was Daphne," she replied after a moments thought. "They've had some more open discussions recently and some things came out." She decided to let Dan think that this was all a result of some feelings being expressed aloud, no reason to upset him with the thought of his little girl kissing someone.

"I like Daphne," he admitted before he took a deep breath and pushed himself to his feet. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Please make sure to tell her I love her?"

"Always," she said, smiling brightly at him before he turned and left the kitchen.

After he was gone, Emma grabbed some stationary and a pen and then picked up Hermione's letter to read through it one last time before she wrote back and, ten minutes later, she picked up her pen and started to write. She didn't really notice the passage of time, only that she went through several versions of the letter, restarting several times, before she was eventually left with something nearly four pages long that she hoped would be helpful.

She read through the letter a few times, her brow furrowed and her teeth worrying at her lower lip in thought before she nodded, satisfied with what she'd written. She folded the stacked sheets of stationary and then stuffed them into an envelope before sealing it. That done, she left the kitchen and made her way quietly through the house, keeping an ear out for her husband, who she eventually found in the living room watching a Manchester United game on the telly.

 _That'll keep him distracted for a bit,_ she thought and quickly moved upstairs and slipped into Hermione's bedroom. Across the room, she opened the closet door and turned on the light before she moved to the back and dug around beneath one of the shelves for a cardboard box she'd stashed there the day after Hermione had left to go back to school. Box and letter both firmly in hand, she went back out into the hall and listened at the top of the stairs for a moment before she crept her way into the guest room and set the box on the armchair in front of the fireplace.

"Binky?" she called to the empty air in front of her and a moment later a crack sounded as the sharply dressed Bones family house elf appeared in front of her.

"Lady Grangy calls for Binky? How cans Binky be helping?"

Emma smiled down and the little elf and dropped down to her knees so she was closer to his height.

"Yes, thank you for coming, Binky. Is Madame Bones at home? And if so, would she be available for me to come by for a visit?"

"Binky be checking. One moment, please, Lady Grangy." He snapped his fingers and disappeared with another crack. Less than a minute later a large, emerald green flame bloomed to life in the fireplace and Emma stood moments before Amelia stepped out, dressed in a casual set of robes with her hair tied loosely back in a ponytail and no sign of her usual monocle.

"Morning, Emma. Is everything okay?"

"Well enough," Emma replied, moving forward to greet the other woman with a friendly hug. "Mind if I come over and chat for a bit? I was also hoping I might ask a small favor?"

"Absolutely, I'd love some company. I was just finishing a letter to Susan and I have no other plans for the day. Is Dan coming as well?"

Emma shook her head. "No, I thought this was better kept between us women. And besides, he's distracted watching a Football game right now, anyway."

Amelia gave her a quizzical look but pushed aside her questions and led the way to the fireplace. After throwing in a pinch of Floo powder and calling out the destination, she took Emma by the arm and the two of them stepped into the flames, vanishing quickly.

When they arrived at the Boneyard, Amelia helped steady Emma, who tripped slightly over the exit, and the two of them moved through the house to the sitting room where Binky had already set out a tea service and a tray filled with biscuits and scones.

"That little guy really is amazing," Emma comments as they sat and set about serving themselves.

"He is," Amelia agreed. "I honestly don't know how I'd manage without him. This house is way too big just for Susan and I, and even with Harry here they're at school for so much of the year the place just feels empty."

"Why live here then? From what you've said over the last couple of years I don't imagine you'd be unable to move to someplace smaller."

"No, that wouldn't be a problem at all, logistically or financially, at least," Amelia admitted, frowning into her tea cup for a moment. "This building has belonged to the Bones family for generations. There's a long tradition of the Head of the family residing here. Susan will be the next Head of House Bones and this place is her birthright. Besides that, the entire repository of knowledge for the Bones family magic is here and cannot be taken off the property."

Emma nodded, not really sure how to respond to that and a few moments later Amelia set down her cup and leaned back in her seat, her deep blue eyes focusing completely on her guest.

"So, what was it you wanted to discuss?"

"Well, I received a letter from Hermione this morning. Susan didn't happen to send you anything, did she?"

Amelia's lips turned up into a small smirk.

"Oh, yes, she did. She was quite pleased to inform me that she finally laid one on Daphne."

"Did she mention how that all came about?"

"She did, actually. I'm not so sure that was the best plan she could have come up with, it seems like it all could have gone south in a big way if Daphne hadn't had a moment of panic and practically attacked your daughter. But it seems like everything worked out okay in the end."

"Well, to an extent. From Hermione's letter it at least seems like they're all closer and planning to start opening up more to Harry, which can only be good."

"But?" Amelia asked in a knowing tone and Emma couldn't hold in a sigh.

"But, Hermione is now more than a little confused. She doesn't know what she really thinks of this concept of possibly being with the other girls, more than just as very close friends. She mentioned in her letter the idea that people bonded as they are isn't possible if they _couldn't_ be, but she's never even considered the idea before so now she's questioning, if she could feel what Daphne does, would it really be her, or would the bond have changed her somehow so they'd fit together better?" Emma shrugged. "In the end, I don't know that it really matters, as long as they're happy, but she's worried and doesn't know exactly how to go about deciding for herself what she wants."

"Well, it's not for us to decide that for them. All we can do is try to offer whatever support and advice we can and let them find their own way." Amelia reached across the coffee table between them and gave Emma's hand a comforting squeeze. "Hermione is an extremely bright and caring girl. I already know she'll wonder and agonize over this issue far longer than she needs to. But in the end, I'm sure she'll make the decision that's right for her and for those people that she loves, whatever that may be."

Emma didn't answer but offered a weak smile.

"Anyway," Amelia said, briskly as she took her hand back and took up her cup of tea again. "You mentioned a favor? What was it you needed?"

"Yes, I have a letter and a package I need to… oh, shoot!" Emma turned as she started talking to pick up the box she'd dug out from Hermione's closet but paused when she noticed she'd forgotten it back at her house. "I forgot to grab it on our way here," she muttered, glaring at the empty space next to her seat as if the box would somehow materialize just because she wished it too.

"Where did you leave it?"

"On the arm chair in our… well, our Floo Access room, I guess," Emma laughed. "Can't exactly use it as a guest bedroom anymore with that fireplace in there."

"Oh, you still can," Amelia smirked. "When I got your house hooked to the Floo network I also warded the area around it so muggles wouldn't be able to see it. If your mother wanted to visit she could easily stay in your guest room and she'll never see the fireplace." She paused for a moment as a thought struck her. "By the way, _if_ your mother or someone does ever drop by, do let me know and I'll come over and shut off the Floo temporarily. She wont see the fireplace, but someone walking out of it would appear with no explanation in the room, and that might be difficult to get around."

Emma laughed at the mental picture that conjured up and nodded. "Duly noted. Anyway, there's a cardboard box with a letter on top of it on the armchair in the room," she explained and Amelia nodded.

"Binky!" she called.

"Mistress Bonsey calls for Binky?"

"Yes, could you please pop back over to the Granger home and bring us the box and letter that Missus Granger left on the armchair in their upstairs guest room? I would greatly appreciate it."

Binky vanished with a crack and reappeared less than a second later, the box with the sealed letter on top floating in front of him.

"Cans Binky be doing anything else for yous, Mistress Bonsey?" he asked as he set both on the coffee table.

"No, thank you, Binky. This is plenty."

The little elf nodded, then disappeared with another crack.

"I finished putting together a response to Hermione just a little while ago and this box, I've been… collecting a few things, just in case, since we had that discussion during their first Christmas break from school. Ever since you said this might happen, I wanted to be prepared for the possibility," Emma explained, nodding toward the box on the table.

Amelia glanced at the box for a moment before shooting a look toward Emma who simply gestured for her to open it. Lifting the lid, she set it aside and then looked into the, now open, box, reaching in to sift through a few of the times even as a grin spread across her face and her eyes danced with mirth.

"Oh, god," she burst out, laughing. "She's either going to love you or hate you."

Emma's smirk was decidedly mischievous. "Or both," she pointed out and Amelia nodded, still laughing.

"Oh, yes, both is a distinct possibility."

After the two of them got their amusement under control, Amelia put the lid back on the box and sat back.

"Are you sure all of that is a good idea?" she asked. "She _is_ only fourteen."

Emma shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. Yes, she's still young, but these are the years when kids start to discover who they are and what they want. This is the time when their more adult personalities start to really develop, and, let's face it, our four have always been more adult than most any other kids their age."

Amelia let out a sigh at that, but couldn't help but agree.

"True enough, I suppose." She reached out and placed a hand on top of the box. "So I'm going to assume the favor you mentioned was shrinking this down so Archimedes can deliver it?"

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble. I don't want to take advantage of you just for posting things to my daughter."

Amelia waved her off, her wand already in hand. "It's no trouble at all, Emma, really. A shrinking charm is a simple enough thing and I was already going to be sending a letter back to Susan today, anyway. It's no issue to add your letter and this little package." With a quick motion and a muttered 'reducio' the box shrank down to the size of a deck of playing cards and she tied it with a piece of twine supplied by Binky so it wouldn't open while in transit and set both it and the letter off to the side. "Soon as I finish up my letter to Susan, I'll send these along with."

Emma let out a relieved sigh and flashed her with a broad smile in thanks. They chatted for a bit longer, enjoying their tea and some friendly conversation before Emma glanced at her watch.

"Well, I should be getting back and let you finish your letter. I didn't mean to take up so much of your time."

"Nonsense. Any time, Emma, you know my home is always open to you and Dan. Hell, Hermione practically lives here too."

Emma laughed as she stood and the two women started their way toward the Floo. "Yes, it has been a little more difficult than it used to be to get her to come along on our summer vacations. Maybe we should invite the other kids to join us next time? We were thinking of going to Nice next summer and maybe spend a few days in Italy as well, but we haven't really decided yet."

"Would you two be all right with all four of them? I'm not sure I could get away from work for the two weeks your trips usually last. There are some downsides to being the boss."

"Oh we'd be fine, I would think. It's not like they're toddlers that need constant supervision."

"True enough. Well, I would insist on paying for Harry and Susan's travel, and I'm sure we could work out Daphne as long as her parents approve the trip. We'll figure it out as it gets closer."

"Sounds good to me." Emma paused at the fireplace, chewing on her bottom lip for a moment while she thought. "Why don't you come over for dinner, tonight?" she asked, suddenly.

Amelia blinked, a little surprised by the abrupt offer.

"Seriously. You've had Dan and I over so many times already since we met. You should come over and have dinner with us. We'll open a bottle of wine or two and have a pleasant evening. You just said a little while ago how empty this place feels with the kids gone, come spend some time with us, get you out of this house for something other than work or errands."

Amelia thought for a moment before she smiled and nodded. "I'd like that. Thank you Emma."

Emma leaned over and hugged Amelia, smiling brightly. "It's the least we can do, and you're good company, so it's no hardship at all."

They quickly worked out the details and Amelia escorted her friend through the Floo before returning back to the Boneyard where she stopped to collect the shrunken box and letter from the sitting room and then headed up to her office where her unfinished letter to Susan sat waiting. She almost wished she could be there when Hermione opened her mother's delivery, just to see the look on the poor girls face.

#####

"So… what is magic?"

Professor Lupin looked around the room at the small sea of faces staring back at him. Most of his third year students looked completely bewildered, while only a handful of them look as if they were really considering the question.

"Miss Granger?" he said, indicating the witch who had her hand raised hesitantly into the air.

"Magic is a form of energy, isn't it?"

"Correct, to an extent. Raw magic has never been fully quantified, but it is believed to be energy in its purest form. Now, why this is important to you should become clear in a moment. But first. Who can tell me what happens when a witch or a wizard is hit with a spell?"

Even more bewildered looks met that question and he pointed to Harry.

"Well… if a person is hit by a spell, whether that is a curse, hex, charm, or a jinx, then they will be affected by the intended result of the spell, right?"

"Correct again."

"That's obvious," a sneering voice came from the back of the room and Remus glanced over to Draco Malfoy.

"Yes, it's obvious enough, Mister Malfoy. Five points from Slytherin for speaking out of turn." The blond's face reddened but Remus ignored his reaction and turned his attention back to the rest of the class. "What isn't obvious is _why_ these effects happen. When we draw on our magic in order to cast a jinx or a curse or a spell of any kind, the raw energy is changed by its passage through the magical pathways in our bodies. It is then channeled through our wands and shaped to accomplish the effect intended by the spell."

He turned, drawing his wand and quickly cast a cutting curse toward a target dummy that he'd set up at the front of the class. The blue, scythe shaped blade of energy shot across the room and a deep gash appeared across the targets torso, causing murmurs to spread through the class as they watched.

"Now, observe," he said, turning back to the class and before anyone could move, he pointed his wand at his own temple and uttered, "diffindo."

Screams erupted through the class and he noticed Harry and the Longbottom boy both surge to their feet, as if to attempt to stop him but froze a moment later when they saw their professor still standing and looking completely unruffled.

"Does anyone understand why my spell cut the target but had absolutely no effect on me?" he asked as the boys slowly sank back into their seats.

There were no answers for nearly a minute before he spoke again. "Oh come on," he said. "I've given you all the clues you need. Can no one even hazard a guess? I promise there will be no punishments for a wrong answer, I just want to see if you can figure it out."

After another couple of minutes, Hermione once again raised her hand. When he gestured to her she spoke haltingly, her brow furrowed as she attempted to work out the problem in her head.

"Is it… is it _because_ magic is energy?" she asked and he smiled, just slightly, something glimmering in his tired eyes as he motioned for her to continue. "Well, energy and other various things have certain frequencies that they resonate at. Raw magic would resonate at one frequency and once you've used that energy to craft your spell then wouldn't that resonance change?"

"Precisely, Miss Granger. Can you finish it up now? You're almost there."

Her frown deepened and next to her he could see Harry sitting back with a small smile on his lips, watching the girls mind work.

"Well, after you've used the energy from raw magic to craft into a spell the resonance changes. The spell itself probably also has it's own resonant frequency depending on how the energy is shaped in order to accomplish whatever task the spell cast is meant to produce…" Her eyes suddenly widened and she blurted out. "Magical Signature! Every person has a unique magical signature when they cast spells, like a fingerprint. The frequency the spell resonates at is identical to the frequency of the traces of magic already in your body. By resonating at precisely the same frequency that means a spell that you cast _can't_ hurt you since the frequencies are identical and wouldn't affect each other."

"Precisely! Twenty points to Gryffindor and five more to you, Lord Potter, for your earlier answer."

Harry raised his hand and Remus pointed to him. "Professor? If we can't hurt ourselves with a spell that we cast, then why is it that duelists can be hurt by their own spells when reflected back at them with a shield charm?"

"That is a very good question, and actually leads me to today's homework." He paused as a groan swept through the class and held back a laugh. "Oh it won't be that awful. I just want to see six inches, due next week, to answer Lord Potter's question. Since our own magic can't harm us, why is it that they can when reflected off of a shield charm? I have it on extremely good authority from Professor Vector that, hose of you in Arithmancy, might find tomorrows lesson to be helpful in answering that question."

He glanced over at the clock for a moment before turning back to his class.

"That's all the time that we have today. Everyone pack up and enjoy the rest of your day."

There was an immediate increase in noise as students scrambled to pack away ink, quills, and parchment and voices were raised in conversation as people were already discussing the lesson with each other before they all started filing for the door.

"Professor?"

Remus looked up from where he was organizing his desk to find he still had five students in his class and Harry was standing nearby while his friends waited near the door.

"Yes, Harry, what can I do for you?"

"I was just wondering if you had an idea on when we might start the Patronus lessons?"

"Well… I was considering trying to get another bogart, to see if it would turn into a Dementor for you. It would be a much better lesson to attempt learning the spell under the kinds of conditions you'd be in if faced with an actual Dementor. But you said you weren't sure that is what form your boggart would take, didn't you?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I considered it, honestly. But I'm not certain that's really what it would be. I have seen plenty to be scared of in the last couple of years and it isn't exactly easy to pinpoint what I'm really most afraid of."

"Since we can't be certain, it might be best to avoid it entirely. I find myself to be a bit busy for the next week or so, but what about a week from Saturday? I'm told you all have a location where you've been doing your spell practice? I could meet you there."

"That'd be perfect, Professor," Harry said, smiling broadly. "Seventh floor corridor, across from the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy. Right after Lunch?"

"I will meet you then." He smiled and made a shooing gesture with one hand. "Go on, then. You and your friends should go enjoy yourselves and relax a bit."

Harry thanked him and in moments the five of them had filed out, leaving Remus to his thoughts.

#####

Later that night, in the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry was sitting at the table near the fire with three books and several sheets of parchment spread out on the surface of the table in front of him. He was bent over, scribbling away at a letter which, once completed, he rolled up and sealed and set it aside to join another already finished letter before he pulled a fresh sheet of parchment toward him and began working on a third.

Somewhere in that time Neville and the girls approached and quietly took their seats, pulling books and parchment from their own bags as the silently began their homework. After another twenty minutes spent on the letter Harry sat back and read through it a couple of times before seemingly satisfied with what he'd written and he set down his quill and stretched as he straightened up in his seat.

"Holy crap!" he blurted out when he saw the four of them sitting there in their usual seats and Neville burst out laughing. "Jeez, when did you four get here?" Harry demanded.

"We sat down about twenty minutes ago, Harry," Hermione spoke, a grin in place as Susan snickered behind her hand at him.

"Well, I'm gonna have to hang a bell on you guys. Give me a heart attack why don't you."

"What was that you were working on?" Neville asked after they'd stopped laughing at him and Harry waved the question away.

"Just some letters I've got to send out later. One for my Account Manager, one for Amelia…" he paused and glanced at Daphne. "And I've got one to send to Lord Greengrass, as well," he admitted.

Everyone's expressions became more somber at that but Daphne quickly moved them past it.

"Nothing more to be said. Discuss it with them later but for now we should get to work. Harry, did you still need a little help with Arithmancy?"

"You'd be a life saver," he admitted. With their elective classes, Harry found that he was right in thinking that Arithmancy and Ancient Runes would be fascinating, but he had to say that Arithmancy was giving him the most trouble. Runes, he almost found easy and it was fascinating. But the numbers and charts common in Arithmancy gave him a migraine and Daphne appeared to be nearly a prodigy in the subject, easily grasping concepts that even gave Hermione pause.

As they worked, conversation was light while each of them focused the majority of their attention on their own assignments until Daphne and Harry finished up with Arithmancy and started packing away their materials for that particular class.

"Harry," she asked while he was digging around in his bag for his charms text.

"Hmmm?" he hummed, questioningly.

"What was it you wanted to talk to Professor Lupin about, after class, today?"

"Huh?" Harry blinked and looked up, surprise etched on his face to see that the girls and Neville had all stopped their own work and were looking at him, curiously. "I never mentioned?" he asked and the four of them shook their heads.

He frowned at that, thinking back over the last few days. "Huh," he muttered, frowning in thought. "Well, I went by his office and we talked for a bit on Saturday afternoon when I went out for a walk." Susan and Hermione nodded to that but Daphne and Neville had both been in the village so simply accepted the explanation and waited for him to continue. "I guess with what happened Saturday night and then yesterday, I must have forgotten to bring it up."

He was far too lost in his musings to notice how Hermione blushed when he mentioned 'that' night, as she had come to think of it, and by the time he focused his attention back on them, the color in her cheeks had faded enough that it drew no attention.

"Well, it's not like it's a big secret or anything," he said with a casual shrug. "Moony said that he'd teach us the Patronus Charm and I was just confirming when he wanted to start those lesson. Keep your afternoon free a week from this Saturday, by the way."

Susan, Daphne, and Neville all blinked in surprise while Hermione leaned forward eagerly at the thought of learning something new.

"What is that?" she asked.

"It's an extremely difficult charm," Neville explained, "beyond NEWT levels, really, and the only known method of fighting off Dementors."

"Yeah, difficult is an understatement," Susan muttered. "Something like only 25% of adult witches and wizards can even cast it."

"Why is that?"

"Focus and power," Susan explained. "It requires focus under extreme conditions and more than a fair amount of power. Auntie has always complained how their are so few of her Aurors that can actually do it. It's been an ongoing concern of hers for years, even back when she was still a Auror Second Class."

"Well, that explains the what. The why is pretty obvious, what with the Dementors all around the school. But just who is this Moony?" Daphne asked.

"Oh, that's Professor Lupin. Moony was his nickname when he was a student here. I forgot you'd already left the compartment when that came up on the train ride here."

"Harry, you shouldn't be so familiar with a professor!"

"He said I could, Hermione," he defended himself. "He and my parents were friends so when we talked he said I could call him Remus, or Moony in private."

"Uh… Harrykins?"

The five of them turned from their discussion to find the Weasley twins approaching, a curious expression of shock on their faces.

"Did we just hear you use the name Moony?"

Harry felt a wave of confusion at their odd behavior, but answered the question, anyway. "Uh… yeah, I did. Why?"

The two of them glanced at each other before turning back to Harry.

"Where did you hear that name?"

"It was in my mum's journals from when she went to school here," he replied, looking back and forth between the two, very focused, red heads. "Guy's, what's this about?"

"Just a sec, Harry," Twin one said.

"Are you familiar with Wormtail, Padfoot, or Prongs?"

"Well… yeah. They were the Marauders, along with Moony."

The twins jaws dropped and they rushed over to kneel on the carpet by the low table between where Harry and Neville sat.

"You know about the Marauders? Your mum actually knew them?"

"Do you know who they are? We're been trying to figure it out for years, now."

"How do you two know about them?" Harry asked, even further confused by their continued strange behavior.

Fred and George look at each other again, an in moments seemed to have an entire, silent conversation in that way that only twins are truly capable of doing before they turned back to the group of five younger students.

"If we show you something," one said.

"You guys have to swear to keep it a secret," said the other.

"Why are you two staring at me?" demanded Hermione as the rest of them broke out laughing at her offended expression.

"Because you, dear Hermione."

"As lovely-"

"-brilliant-"

"-beautiful…"

The game of twin pong trailed off into silence for a moment before one of them leaned toward the other.

"The scary one is glaring at me," he said in a loud whisper that did nothing to prevent them from hearing him, and, indeed, Daphne had an icy glare on her face as Hermione sat, blushing, next to her.

"Indeed she is, brother mine. Should we get to the point?" responded the other twin in an equally loud whisper as Susan, Neville, and Harry snickered quietly.

"Please, do," Daphne growled out in a frigid tone and both boys shuddered theatrically.

"Anyway. Hermione. As wonderful as you are, you-"

"-are still one of the biggest sticklers-"

"-for the rules that we know, and actually still like."

"As long as no one is hurt," she said, frowning worriedly.

"You wound us, dear lady," they burst out, holding their hands to their chests as if someone had driven a knife through them.

"Pranksters, we may be, but out pranks have never harmed another. That just wouldn't be good business."

"Anyway." One of them reached into his robes and withdrew a tattered, old looking piece of parchment, which he unfolded and laid out flat on top of their spread out books and parchments on the table.

"Forge? Would you like to do the honors?"

"It would be my very distinct pleasure, dear Gred."

The twin in question, Forge, apparently, touched the tip of his wand lightly to the parchment, and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

At once, thin ink lines spread like a spider web across the parchment from the point his wand had touched. They joined together, crisscrossed back and forth, and fanned out to every corner of the parchment before words appeared across the in curly, emerald green letters.

 _Mssrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs_

 _Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief Makers_

 _Are proud to present_

 _The Marauders Map_

It was, as the heading stated, a map of Hogwarts, showing every classroom, corridor, office, and secret passage in the school. More amazing, however, were the many tiny ink dots moving across the map's surface.

"Look," Neville said, pointing to Gryffindor tower. There, in one corner of the tower, were seven dots bunched together, precisely where the seven of them were sitting, and each dot had the corresponding persons name written next to it in tiny lettering.

"Ah, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," Twin one said, patting the heading on the map, almost lovingly.

"This, ladies and gents, is the secret to our success. This map shows everything, even a few passages leading out of the school."

"But you have to clear it when you're done, otherwise anyone can read it. To do that you just tap it and say-"

"Mischief Managed."

All eyes turned to Harry as he cut the twins off, his eyes suspiciously wet and glued to the map in front of him.

"Yeah, Mate, exactly that. How'd you know?"

"Harry?" Hermione asked, gently. "Prongs… didn't you say…"

"Yeah," he whispered in a thick voice. He finally looked away from the map and at the twins again. "Where did you find this?"

"Filched it from Filch's office, back in our first year," one of them replied in a quiet tone. Nearly constitutionally incapable of taking anything seriously, even the twins could understand that something unusual was going on, and now was not the time for their usual flippancy.

Harry cleared his throat while Susan stood and moved over to stand beside him, gently squeezing his shoulder.

"Prongs," he said, leaning forward to tap the name with one finger, "was my dad. James Potter."

Fred and George's eyes widened to comical levels as their mouths dropped open, working up and down for several moments before one of them managed to stutter out, "A-and the-the others?"

"Wormtail was Peter Petigrew and Padfoot is Sirius Black," he said, not noticing how their faces twisted in disgust at the name.

"And what about Moony?"

At that, Harry smirked in a manner that reminded the two boys disturbingly of themselves. "Would it really freak you two out to learn that you already know Moony?" he asked, his smirk widening into a grin at their dumbfounded expressions.

"Who!" they demanded.

"Professor Lupin is Moony."

Both of them sat back on their heels, staring blankly ahead for several moments and as the silence stretched, Neville leaned over and waved his hand in front of one of the twins faces.

The boy didn't even blink and Neville laughed, loudly.

"Good job, Harry. I think you broke them."

"They betrayal!" Twin one blurted out.

"The absolute indignity!" burst out the other.

"For one of our idols."

"One of the great Marauders to be…"

They shuddered again and finished the next sentence together, "a figure of authority!"

One of them fell to the side into his brothers arms and cried out dramatically, "hold me!"

The rest of them burst out laughing again and a moment later both twins sat up, once again holding a quick silent discussion before they cleared and folded up the map. Turning, one of them held the map out, as if presenting it to Harry.

"Oh, Prongslet, son of the Great Prongs. This, rightfully, belongs to you. Use it well."

Harry's mouth dropped open and he hesitantly reached out to take the map but paused just before his hand reached it.

"You guys… are you sure?"

"No, we're Fred and George."

"Yes, we're absolutely sure, Harry. Your dad helped make this, it should go to you. Besides, we've got it mostly memorized, anyways, so it's no huge rub for us to turn it over to the son of one of the Marauders. Just… well, maybe you could let us borrow it, once in a while?"

Harry's grin was as bright as it had ever been as he took the map and cradled it, almost lovingly in his hands.

"Guy's, if I'm not actively in need of it, for some reason, you can borrow it any time you want."

The twins spent a few minutes showing Harry which tunnels leading out of the school were either blocked off or already known to the staff, even pointing out one they'd never used because the Whomping Willow tree that grew on the grounds stood right above the entrance, before they stood, brushing off their knees.

"Well, we're off to go harass a professor," one said, a cheeky grin in place.

"Don't wait up for us, kiddies."

With a wave thrown over their shoulders the two of them hustled off, leaving the five friends once again alone with their work. Harry touched a finger to the map and quietly said, "mischief managed," watching as the ink faded away, leaving it once again looking like nothing more than a blank, tattered piece of old parchment, before he folded it up and carefully tucked it away into his robes.

After that, they returned their attention back to their interrupted homework, though Harry seemed more than a little distracted, one hand constantly straying to pat his robes over where the map was tucked away in an inner pocket until they, eventually, packed up their belongings and headed off to bed.

#####

The next day was Tuesday, and at breakfast, Harry noticed that Hermione kept scanning the ceiling, as if looking for something. He nudged Susan gently with his elbow and jerked his head in their bond mates direction when the red head turned to look at him, but she only shrugged in response after catching Hermione looking up again.

Moment's later the sounds of hundreds of flapping wings filled the Great Hall as the morning post owls swarmed in through the windows set high up in the walls and Hermione sat up even straighter than usual in her spot on the bench, her eyes fixed intently on the cloud of owls.

Hedwig swooped down, her talons clear of any letter or package and landed in front of Harry's plate, barking out a greeting before stealing a piece of bacon and a moment later Hermione let out a squeak as Archimedes came in for a landing, two letters and a small packed tied to one of his legs. He presented his leg and Hermione eagerly relieved him of his burden, profusely thanking him and presenting him with two pieces of very crisp bacon, to which Hedwig let her displeasure known and Harry grinned as he fed her some more of the fried treat his familiar loved so much.

"What's all that, then?" he asked as Hermione was looking over the letters.

One was a scroll, rolled tightly and sealed while the other looked to be a regular muggle style envelope. He could just make out Hermione's name written in neat cursive on the front of the letter when she suddenly reached past him, holding the scroll out to Susan.

"Susan, letter from Aunt Amy," she muttered, most of her focus on the small package that she was inspecting. Once Susan took the letter she pulled her wand from her robes and cast a quick 'finite' at the package, which rapidly grew into a medium sized cardboard box with a lid on top. She lifted the lid up and to the left for less than a handful of seconds before she suddenly let out a loud squeak and slammed the lid back on the box, her face flaming as brilliantly as any Weasley had ever managed. He honestly didn't think he'd ever seen her skin turn that particular shade before and he, along with the rest of their friends suddenly found themselves immensely curious.

"What's in it?" he asked and Hermione jerked in her seat, spinning to face him for a moment before she spun back and shrunk the box back down again, shoving it deep into her robe pocket.

"Nothing," she muttered, extreme embarrassment leaking across the bond as she scooped up the letter and stood. "Just a delivery from my mum."

Without another word she practically ran from the Hall, leaving the rest of them blinking in astonishment at her, very strange, behavior.

"Don't look at us," Daphne said when he turned in their direction, looking just as lost and confused as he felt. "I haven't the foggiest notion what's gotten into her."

"Me neither," Susan agreed.

Eventually, the rest of them finished their breakfast, though Harry kept glancing toward the doors leading into the Great Hall, wondering where Hermione had run off to. Before they left, he grabbed four pieces of toast and used them to make two bacon and egg sandwiches that he then wrapped in a couple of napkins. Once he was done with that, they made their way out onto the grounds, heading for Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class.

By the time the four of them reached the fenced in paddock next to Hagrid's hut, Hermione was already there, waiting for them, her cheeks still slightly pink. Wordlessly, he held out the napkin wrapped bundle and she took it, thanking him profusely for his thoughtfulness.

The moan she let out with her first bite was damned near indecent and, strangely, sent his heart rate soaring. Something he tried very hard not to think about.

"Y-yeah, I noticed y-you hadn't actually eaten much before you ran out of the Hall like your hair was on fire," he said, stammering slightly while Hermione nearly choked on her next bite.

He noticed her blush becoming more pronounced, though it was nowhere near as bad as it had been earlier, and was offset by the fierce glare she directing toward him. At that moment, Harry exhibited the wisdom men only learn when in the extended presence of women.

He kept his mouth shut.

Susan, however, had no need of such wisdom, and cheekily asked, "so, what was it the mum Granger sent that had you in such rare color?"

Hermione grumbled quietly under her breath, but didn't answer the question and instead focused on her breakfast, finishing just as the last of their class walked up and Hagrid came around from behind his hut.

"All right you lot," he boom out, cheerfully. "Gather 'round, gather 'round. Right up ter tha fence here. Got something' special fer ya today."

The first part of the lesson went as well as one might wish, with Hagrid bringing four hippogriffs out from the forest for them to study. His lecture was intriguing and engaging and Harry and his friends gave him frequent smiles and nods to encourage him whenever he chance a glance in their direction.

Somehow, and he really wasn't sure how exactly it happened, but somehow, Neville found himself being volunteered to be the first to approach the intimidating looking Buckbeak. A glance around showed his friends, the rest of the class, Hagrid, and even Snuffles, who was sitting on the steps to Hagrids hut, all watching him expectantly.

He was pretty sure that Snuffles was laughing at him again.

"Laugh it up, fuzzball," he muttered under his breath before he approached and bowed to Buckbeak, his eyes already burning as he fought the urge to blink. His relief was almost a visible thing when the hippogriff gracefully bowed back, and, before he knew it, Neville found himself being hoisted onto the creatures back for a quick flight around the grounds.

Later, Harry and Neville would both agree that the school year had been going too well, and it had been high time for a disaster of Malfoy proportions to strike.

The arrogant Slytherin strutted his way up toward Buckbeak, nose in the air and a sneer firmly in place on his face. "If this great ugly chicken will bow to someone as stupid and useless as the near squib," he sneered, "then it'll probably worship the very ground I walk on."

Half the class suddenly screamed as Malfoy walked right up to the large hippogriff, not even bothering to bow, and Buckbeak reared back, squawking angrily as his fore claws raked the air in front of him. Malfoy screamed, falling back with his arm raised to catch the incoming blow and before anyone else could think or react Harry held out his right hand.

"Accio Malfoy's Robes!" he bellowed.

The spell took hold and yanked the boy back, out of the way of the flashing talons only for him to tumble to the ground and roll painfully toward Harry as Slytherins and Gryffindors drew their wands.

"Buckbeak! Get back!" Hagrid bellowed, barging in front of Buckbeak to restrain the creature.

Amidst shouted insults from both houses in the class and others attempting to get everyone to calm down, Malfoy rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself to his feet, his wand already in hand, his face red with a mixture of anger and humiliation.

"How dare you attack me!" he roared at Harry who honestly gaped at the boy in complete shock for a moment.

"Are you out of your damned mind?" he snapped. "I just saved you from a mauling at best because you were too stupid to listen to our Professor and do as you're instructed."

"There is nothing that idiotic oaf could ever teach me. I am a Malfoy."

Harry growled under his breath, decided it was pointless to try to argue with the little idiot and turned to walk back to his friends.

"Fine," he threw back over his shoulder at the incensed blond. "The next time your own stupidity gets you in danger I'll just let you deal with the consequences on your own instead of saving your ungrateful arse."

Harry noticed the girl's eyes widen and Neville lift his arm to eject his wand from its holster when a voice snarled out a word from behind him.

"Incendio!"

Harry spun, knowing that if he moved the spell would be heading right for his friends and for half a moment he hesitated as he turned. If he used his wandless skills, he'd advertise to everyone what he could do. They hadn't seen him summon Malfoy without a wand but now all eyes were on him. If he used his wand blank, it would take a couple of extra seconds to channel the magic through the length of wood.

His debate was solved for him though as he turned and just barely managed to lift his right forearm up in front of his face to intercept the ball of magical fire speeding toward him like a runaway bludger.

A loud growl erupted from nearby and the sound of feet pounding on the ground reached them moments before Malfoy let out an ear splitting scream as Snuffles leapt at him, his jaws clamping down on the blonds wand arm. Blood spurted and the loud snapping of bones was clearly audible to all.

Harry, noticed none of that as he frantically beat at the flames flowing up the sleeve of his robe, already nearly reaching to his shoulder.

"Auguamente!"

Water suddenly sprayed across him and Harry turned toward it, shoving his arm into the stream as more voices shouted out spells nearby.

In a matter of seconds, the fire was out and Harry knelt on the damp and muddy ground beneath his feet, cradling his arm close to his body as Snuffles leapt away from Malfoy just before a disarming charm, a bludgeoning charm, boil curse, and a stunner slammed into the Slytherin, throwing him bodily through the air as his wand flew from his hand, his nose shattered, boils erupted all across his body, and consciousness left him, even before his body slammed into the ground.

"Just try it!" Neville snapped as he and Daphne turned their wands toward Crabbe and Goyle who had barely managed to take a single step forward as they saw their boss pummeled into the ground.

For a wonder, the two showed a level of intelligence they had yet to ever exhibit and stepped back, both of them raising their empty hands into the air.

Harry looked up from his arm just in time to see a streak of red light heading right for him and then he knew nothing more.

#####

When next Harry became aware of his surroundings he could hear people talking around him in low voices.

"Okay," he said, without opening his eyes. "I'm pretty sure the last thing I remember was that I was set on fire. That doesn't usually include being knocked out, so what happened?" With that he opened his eyes, turning his head to look to where his girls were sitting in their usual spots on the left side of his bed. Daphne looked slightly amused, Hermione, scandalized, and Susan looked like someone had just kicked her puppy.

"Susan, what's wrong?" he asked, reaching out toward her but she shrank away from him instead of taking his hand.

"She stunned you," Hermione supplied, sounding a touch irate as she frowned at the red head.

Harry blinked at that.

"Okay," he said, drawing out the word slightly. "I'll bite. Why'd you stun me, since I know you would never do something to try to hurt me."

"Your arm was set on fire," Susan explained. "Burns hurt. A lot. I thought it'd be faster to levitate you up here and, maybe, I could save you some pain by knocking you out before shock were off and the pain kicked in."

He nodded a few times as she talked thinking over her words carefully before giving her a gentle smile.

"Makes sense to me," he said.

"And makes perfect medical sense as well, Lord Potter," Madam Pomfrey interrupted as she walked up an exasperated expression on her face. Susan looked decidedly more comfortable after that bit of reassurance from the matronly Healer and sat up a bit straighter in her seat.

"It's not my fault!" he immediately blurted out causing the rest of them to laugh.

"I think we are all aware of who is at fault in this instance, Lord Potter," she said, glaring at a bed near the far end of the Wing that had a set of privacy screens in place around it. A moment later she shook herself and dragged attention back to her favorite, and most frustrating patient.

"You, Lord Potter, continue to present me with mystery after mystery."

Harry groaned.

"What impossible thing have I done this time?" he asked, ignoring how his friends snickered quietly around him.

"Your friends tell me you were hit with a flame spell, is that right?" she asked instead of answering his question.

He nodded. "Yeah, I was stupid and turned my back on Malfoy. I heard him say it and turned back just in time to catch it on my arm instead of letting it hit me in the face."

"Sit up for me, if you please, Lord Potter," she said. He could tell by her tone of voice that it really didn't matter if it pleased him or not, he was going to be sitting up.

So, with that in mind, he complied and, with a flick of her wand, she vanished the right sleeve of his stripped pajama top. Expecting to see a burned mass of flesh, Harry was startled when he looked down and found his arm looking just the same as it always had, scars and all.

"What the…"

Madam Pomfrey sat as Neville moved to make room for her and, gently, she took hold of his arm with both hands.

"Does any of this hurt?" she asked as she pressed her fingers into his skin, working her way from the burn scar on his shoulder all the way down to his hand.

When he denied feeling any pain or discomfort she looked over to the girls, who confirmed his claim.

"Hey," he protested, frowning. "I just said I was fine."

"Yes, but for you, 'fine' can mean anything from perfectly healthy, to on the brink of death but not dead, yet," Hermione pointed out.

Harry huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, muttering something about not being that bad, which just made his friends laugh again.

"Can't you people just believe me when I say I'm all right?" he grumbled. A moment later five voices chorused out a resounding, "No!"

He sulked his way through the rest of Poppy's examination after that.

"Well," she said after she'd finished bending his hand at the wrist, arm at the elbow, and having him rotate his shoulder several times. "Here is where we reach the great mystery you've presented me with. You, are completely unharmed."

Harry blinked.

"Isn't that a good thing?" he asked, obviously confused.

"Yes, it is indeed a good thing. But it shouldn't technically be possible. Your entire sleeve was engulfed in magically produced flames. There's no way you should have escaped without some degree of burns, but there's nothing."

Harry thought about that for a moment before he finally gave up and simply shrugged.

"If I'm not hurt, does that mean I can leave?" he asked, hopefully.

She seemed to consider that for a moment before letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Oh, very well. Since you're not hurt I can't exactly keep you here for no reason. Go ahead and get dressed and then the Headmaster wishes to speak with you in his office." She stood and moved around to the foot of the bed before flicking her wand in his direction.

"There," she said, a grin firmly in place on her lips. "That is much better." With that cryptic statement she turned and made her way back to her office, leaving the five of them in bemused silence.

It started with Neville, a quiet snickering that he tried to hold in but quickly grew to loud guffaws as Hermione started giggling behind her hand. Daphne was managing to contain her amusement, though her eyes danced with it while Susan was the least reserved of them all. She was actually slumped across the side of his bed, one balled fist pounding the mattress as she practically howled with laughter.

"What is so damned funny?" Harry asked after looking himself over to see if Madam Pomfrey had done something to him.

He turned, following Neville's pointing finger to look behind him and his eyes widened.

"Oh, bugger."

There, mounted at the top of the railing that served as the head of the bed was a bronze plaque that read:

 _ **This bed is reserved for use by**_

 _ **Lord Harry James Potter**_

#####

The four of them continued to laugh at him the entire way to the Headmaster's office, though Hermione did _try_ to be sympathetic to his feelings on the matter. The effort, as appreciated as it was, was ruined by the constant grin that twisted her lips.

"You guys are all heart," he groused as they reached the gargoyle that guarded the entrance, which moved aside as they approached. By the time they reached the door at the top of the spiral staircase, their amusement had faded, largely helped by the booming voice they could hear, even through the thick door.

Squaring his shoulders as he realized that this was not going to be the simple meeting he had been expecting, Harry raised his hand to knock. He actually had to knock three more times before he was able to make himself heard over the noise generated by the room's occupants.

"Come in," Dumbledore called and Harry glanced to his friends for a moment before he grabbed the latch and opened the door.

"Potter!" Snape snarled out before the five of them had even made their way into the room. "I don't know how you managed to almost convince me that you weren't just as dangerous and arrogant as your idiot father but I assure you I will not be making that mistake again!"

"Severus," the Headmaster admonished, attempting to rein in his Potions Professor.

"I will see you run out of this school for this you idiotic brat. Blatantly attacking students is grounds for expulsion."

"It is?" Harry asked, keeping as tight a grip on his temper as he could while affecting a surprised tone. "That is very good to hear. When will Malfoy be leaving the school then?"

"You are the one that attacked my student!"

"That's the biggest load of dragon dung I've ever heard," Neville snapped, drawing himself up angrily. "Malfoy was the one that threw a flame spell at Lord Potter, yet you are going to accuse _him_ of attacking your student?"

"I have multiple witness statements to the fact that Potter attacked Mister Malfoy, unprovoked and from behind in a clearly cowardly attack. So much for your vaunted Gryffindor courage."

"And are any of these witnesses from Gryffindor? Or perhaps Professor Hagrid?" Daphne drawled in a deadpan tone.

"I have no need for the word of people that would lie to protect their golden boy."

"So, what you're saying is, that you did no actual investigation into the event, and are simply taking the word of your students without listening to anyone else that was involved," Hermione stated clearly, glaring at Snape.

"That will be fifty points from Gryffindor-"

"ENOUGH!"

All eyes turned to the Headmaster who had stood behind his desk, palms placed flat on its surface as his hair and beard stirred in a nonexistent breeze, his eyes glowing slightly with a dim light. It was the first time that Harry had seen the effect that others had described happening around him in the past, and he had to admit, it was absolutely terrifying.

The Headmaster held their attention for several long moments before, like flicking a switch, it stopped. The breeze faded and the light in his eyes vanished and, once again, he was the venerable old Headmaster of a prestigious school of magic, not a powerful sorcerer ready to rain down destruction.

"Now," he said, in his usual grandfatherly tone. "I understand tempers are high, but we will discuss this all calmly so that we may acquire an accurate picture of events before deciding what actions should be taken."

He gestured to a series of chairs that appeared in front of his desk and the students sat while Snape made his way over to his usual corner of the room where he preferred to lurk and stood against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Headmaster? I was wondering why Professor Snape was here?" Susan asked in a politely curious tone of voice that fooled none of her bond mates.

"His students were involved in this incident so he is here as their Head of House. Professor McGonagall should be on her way right now as your Head of House, so we shall wait for her to arrive before we continue," he replied. With that settled, he lifted a crystal bowl from his desk and held it out toward them in invitation. "Sherbert lemon?"

Most of the students declined the usual offer, but Hermione, after a moments thought, reached out and plucked one of the hard candies from the bowl before popping it in her mouth.

A few seconds later, she noted the absolutely dumbfounded look on every face, even Professor Snape was looking at her as if he wasn't sure what she was.

"What?" she was compelled to ask.

"My dear Miss Granger, I do believe you are the first person to accept that offer in over twenty years," Dumbledore said, beaming at her as he popped a candy into his own mouth.

Hermione flushed under all the attention. "Well, Sir, you offered one the night you came to my parents house when I was little. Mum wouldn't let me try one at the time and I guess I've been curious since."

Silently, Dumbledore and Hermione enjoyed their candies while the rest of them gathered their scattered wits until a knock at the door signaled the arrival of their Head of House.

"Now that we are all present and accounted for, Professor Snape, would you like to begin?" Dumbledore asked after Professor McGonagall had taken up a position standing near her cubs.

"I have several eyewitness accounts that have Potter and his friends attacking Draco Malfoy in an unprovoked attack during their Care of Magical Creatures class," he snarled. "Including setting a dangerous animal on the boy and grievously injuring him."

Neville snorted, causing several pairs of eyes to turn in his direction. The sudden weight of the gazes caused a slight reddening in his cheeks, but he forcefully reminded himself, he was Lord Longbottom, and he would not back down.

"You disagree with Professor Snape's assessment of the situation?" the Headmaster asked, calmly.

Neville took a deep, calming breath before plucking up every ounce of courage he possessed to answer the question.

"Considering the Professor's version of events is a complete fabrication, yes, I do disagree."

"How dare you, you insolent little-"

"Severus Snape, that is enough!" McGonagall cut in, glaring balefully at the sallow complexioned Potions Master.

He met her glare with an equally ferocious one of his own before he waved a hand, dismissively, in the student's direction.

"By all means, let us hear whatever fantasy they have concocted to justify their criminal actions."

They did so, quickly and without embellishment with each of them taking the story in turn ending with Harry waking up in the Hospital Wing. Snape's contempt of them was clear as the disgusted sneer never left his face throughout the entirety of their retelling.

"You cannot honestly believe this drivel," he scoffed.

"I find it much easier to believe that bully of a student that you protect could get himself into hot water, and then dare to attack the only person that did anything to help him, than I find it possible that five of my students would attack anyone without provocation," McGonagall thundered back, her Scottish brogue coming in nice and thick with her growing ire at the entire situation. "You go out of your way to protect and enable your students and all you are doing is teaching them their actions have no consequences."

"It is not I that panders to students as if they are something special to be held above the rest," he shot back, glowering in Harry's direction as the messy haired teen just sat and glared furiously at him.

"I was attacked. _I_ was attacked, not the other way around," Harry shouted, suddenly surging to his feet as small knickknacks around the room started to rattle in their spots on various shelves and tables.

Snape opened his mouth to fire back but they were all suddenly shocked into silence when a loud cannon blast tore through the air and they spun to look at Dumbledore, still seated behind his desk and without the usual twinkle in his eyes.

"I have had more than enough of this behavior," he said in a low, angry tone. "Minerva, you will investigate this incident, starting with questioning those students that were present during the altercation, regardless of their house. Severus," he added, interrupting the professor before he could speak, "you will stay out of the investigation and you will adhere to whatever punishments that are handed down to any students."

He held the professors gaze for several long moments before Snape slowly nodded his head, once, and Dumbledore turned his attention back to Harry and his friends.

"Lord Potter, I believe you and your friends may leave, at this time. I would like to arrange a time for us to meet again, however, to discuss the promise you made last year?"

It took Harry a moment to remember what the aged Headmaster was referring to, but eventually it clicked as he thought of the conversation he had in the Chamber with the Sorting Hat and he nodded quickly.

"Absolutely, Professor. My friends and I have discussed that a few times, actually, and we've got a few ideas I'd love to go over with you.

"Excellent," Dumbledore beamed and clapped his hands together sharply. "Then please, enjoy the rest of your day."

The five of them stood and started for the door but Harry stopped just as he reached the threshold, thinking for a moment before he turned and looked at Snape.

"Professor?"

"What, Potter?"

"You should remind Malfoy, that he has now attacked the Head of a Most Ancient and Most Noble House. He, an Heir Presumptive attacked a Lord. He should be expecting me to contact his father to discuss reparations for his actions in the very near future, and should he accost me or my friends again, I will call his debt due or challenge him to an Honor Duel myself."

With that, Harry stepped through and closed the door behind him as Snape's face purpled with rage and he began to splutter incoherently.

"That arrogant brat-"

"For the last time, Severus, there is neither arrogance or a lack of intelligence in Harry Potter," Dumbledore interrupted in an even tone. "Your continued enabling of your Slytherins, however… that will have to stop…"

#####

By the time evening fell, the five Gryffindors had been catapulted to a new level of celebrity status amongst the students. More than one student, from every house, even Slytherin, stopped them throughout the rest of their day to thank and congratulate them for taking Malfoy down a peg or two, lending further credence to Blaise's statement that not even the other members of his house could stand the blond braggart. Though few had any real belief that the self-proclaimed prince of Slytherin would actually learn anything from this latest encounter, they were still delighted by the story, and expressed their relief that Harry had somehow managed to avoid serious injury.

At one point, during dinner, Cedric Diggory, with a few other upper year students even swung by the Gryffindor table to offer their services with some dueling practice. Wide eyed, the five of them accepted the offer, but decided they would likely wait until after the Christmas Holidays before arranging a practice schedule.

The one downside to the entire incident, that most could see, was that Snuffles had vanished. Neville was particular saddened to hear that and his friends did their best to reassure him that the great beast of a dog had certainly earned their loyalty, and he'd survived for some time on his own already, apparently.

"If we come across him we'll help the pup out," Harry assured his friend. "I still think that we were right in our guess on Hagrid's naming system, but the pup obviously hates Malfoy as much as we do, and I'll call that a win."

That night, long after everyone else had gone to bed, found Harry lying awake, staring up into the shadowed canopy above him, his glowing eyes the only points of light in the darkness.

"How did it happen?" he muttered, turning on his left side and closing his eyes as he tried to sleep.

Thirty minutes passed before he gave out a frustrated sigh and threw back his blankets as he sat up and slipped out of his bed. With a robe pulled on over his pajamas, he padded silently from the dorm, closing the door carefully behind him before making his way down to his armchair by the fire. With a wave of his hand the embers banked in the fireplace quickly stirred up into a merrily crackling flame as light filled his corner of the Common Room. Reaching into a pocket of his robe, he pulled out a candle. A simple, fat, white candle that he secure to the table in front of him with a simple sticking charm before, with a snap of his fingers, the wick burst alight.

For some time he sat there, his eyes moving from the brightly glowing tongue of flame to the scars that dotted his hand and forearm. Back and forth, back and forth.

Eventually, he sat up straight in his seat, his eyes fixed intently on the candle before he slowly, but deliberately, reached out toward the flame.


	36. Entrance Denied

**Author's Notes: All right, gang. Rotten Writer here, once again, and I've been trying to die for the last couple of weeks, so I'll apologize now if anything's off with this chapter. I'm pretty sure I caught at least most of the spelling or grammar issues but seriously, I've been sick as a dog and I can't keep putting this off any longer. I personally think some parts of the chapter maybe feel a little forced, but that could just be cause I'm not all here. Hopefully all is well. There'll be another little note at the end of this chapter, just for a clarification on one little aspect of it.**

 **Part of the issue I'm having is I keep trying to write slightly smaller chapters, but then I end up saying next chapter is going to include this or that and I end up writing longer just to fit everything in. I'm working on that little habit, I swear. So I'm not gonna promise that next chapter will get to any specific thing, just say I'll be tryingto get it out as soon as I can.**

 **Disclaimer: I still owns nothing. I sad.**

 **Moving on to chapter 35 of Soul Scars. Enjoy gang.**

Soul Scars Part Three

The Greengrass Problem

By,

Rtnwriter

The day before Halloween, Harry was up and moving even earlier than usual. He didn't know what woke him, but once his eyes opened, he couldn't even consider going back to sleep. He thought about waking Neville, but decided to let his friend sleep instead.

After dressing quietly in the dark, Harry grabbed his bag and headed downstairs to the Common Room. Once seated in his favorite spot, he idly contemplated what to do with the free time that he suddenly found on his hands while he waited for the others to wake up. He tried skimming his books for more spells to work on. He tried working on his Occlumency. He even considered revisiting his idea from a few weeks earlier, but cringed and forcefully shoved that plan from his mind.

His foolish experiment with a candle flame had _not_ gone well, and the girls had been quite vocal in expressing their displeasure with him over it. Madam Pomfrey had been even less amused when he'd shown up at the Hospital Wing before breakfast the next morning in need of a burn salve. He still didn't feel all the yelling had really been necessary, though. Seriously, an incendio left him with no burns at all, so it wasn't unreasonable to think a candle flame wouldn't be any different. For some reason though, it was different, and he'd burned two of the fingers on his right hand pretty good before he quit his experiment.

He glanced down at his watch and frowned. Ten minutes. It had only been ten minutes since he sat down and it would be at least another hour before anyone else came down. Why did he feel so restless?

Sighing, somewhat irritably, he dug around in his bag until he found and removed a tattered old piece of parchment. Unfolding it, he flattened it out on the table and pressed the tip of his finger to it.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he muttered, then watched as the map revealed itself. In the weeks since receiving the map, Harry had made a point of studying it whenever he could. He really wasn't sure why, but something about watching the many dots moving about in the detailed drawing of the castle just fascinated him. It was a masterpiece of charms work and enchantment, and he felt a swell of pride every time he thought that his had helped to make it.

Hunched over in his chair, his eyes roamed over the map. At such an early hour there was very little activity to be shown. All the students were still asleep in their dorms. Missus Norris, the caretakers cat, was wandering around on the third floor. The Headmaster appeared to be pacing back and forth in his office.

"Doesn't he ever sleep?" Harry wondered aloud before letting his attention move elsewhere. It looked like Professor Lupin was patrolling the fifth floor and-

Harry froze for a heartbeat. His eyes had just moved to sweep across the grounds and, for a moment, barely a fraction of a second, he was sure he'd seen a dot vanishing off the edge of the map inside the tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow.

A single dot with a label that read, Sirius Black.

Quickly, he looked back over the map, but the dot was nowhere to be found. Black, if he had actually been there at all, had vanished.

#####

"The question is," Daphne mused some time later after Harry told his friends what he'd seen, "was he coming or going?"

Susan frowned, never at her best right after waking. "Huh?"

"We can only assume that Black knows a lot of the castles secrets. So, was he trying to get onto the grounds and was stopped by the Willow? Or does he know a way to get past that tree, and he was leaving after already being on the grounds, or maybe even inside the castle?"

"How can we assume his knowledge about the castle?" Neville asked.

"Because Black is Padfoot, and he helped make the Marauders map," Hermione pointed out, causing Neville to curse under his breath.

"We need to tell someone about this."

"I'd say that we should go to the Headmaster, but after last year… Susan, what if we sent you aunt an owl?"

"No."

The girls paused in the middle of their discussion to turn to Harry.

"What was that?" Daphne asked.

Harry took a deep breath.

"I said, 'no'. We can't tell anyone about this."

"Why not?"

Harry squirmed a bit in his seat under their scrutinizing stares. "If we tell anyone, they'll try to catch him and he has a kiss-on-sight order, remember, Neville?"

"But… isn't that a good thing?" Susan wondered. "He's a mass murderer, he betrayed your parents."

Harry sighed and stood. "I'm not so sure about that," he admitted as he started pacing.

Neville and the girls exchanged a look. The Room of Requirement had changed into a comfortable sitting room, rather than the mini copy of their corner of the Gryffindor Common Room as it had so many times before. Each of them had been supplied with their own comfortable chair with a low table between them upon which Harry had spread out the map to its fullest extent.

"Okay, Harry, talk to us," Susan told him as they watched him pace nervously in front of the table.

"I can't," he groaned. "Amelia made me promise not to say anything."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something but stopped a moment later when Susan motioned to her to wait. Susan's deep blue eyes were suddenly clear and bright, all trace of her earlier sleepiness gone as she studied the pacing figure of their bond mate intently.

"I'm guessing she said to keep quiet because the Black situation is an ongoing investigation?" she asked.

Harry nodded, and Susan's lips turned up into a smirk.

"Except the situation with Black _isn't_ an investigation. As far as the Ministry, and the general public are concerned, he's a guilty escaped criminal, there's nothing _to_ investigate," she pointed out. "It's not an investigation, it's a manhunt, so if Auntie is investigating something like this, that means she must have some new evidence. Since no Aurors have looked at this case in over a decade, then where did this new evidence come from?"

"It probably came from Harry," Daphne piped up. "With his mother's journals, she must have written something that contradicts the official story about what happened that night."

"But with such a high profile case, any new evidence would have been big news," Hermione mused, thoughtfully.

"Except, remember last year, the Minister had Hagrid arrested just so it could look like they were actually doing something when really they had no idea what was going on," Susan sneered, still furious about that. "If something came up in the Black case that made the Ministry look bad, I can easily believe that Fudge would do his best to cover it up."

"And the thing that would most make the Ministry look bad," Neville added, "would be the possibility that maybe the Ministry locked up an innocent Lord of a Most Ancient and Noble House."

Four pairs of eyes turned back toward Harry, who had stopped pacing and was simply staring at them in open mouthed shock.

"Now," Susan said as another smirk played around her lips, "you can honestly say that we worked it out entirely on our own, so you haven't broken your promise to Auntie Amelia. Would you like to fill in the details that we missed?"

It took several moments for him to come out of his shocked stupor, but eventually he just laughed and shook his head before he started in on the story.

"The long and short of it is, my parents named Sirius as my Godfather."

Neville, Susan, and Daphne sucked in a sharp breath at that and he nodded solemnly.

"I know. In mum's journals, and in some letters she and my dad wrote, they both talked about him going through the Godfather Oaths, but they never say for sure if they actually did it or not. These Oaths would have been sworn on his life and magic to never betray me or do anything that would lead to me being harmed," he added for Hermione's benefit.

"So if he had been your families Secret Keeper," she started.

"Then there's is no way that he could have betrayed the Potters," Daphne finished. "He would have been dead before he got half the address out of his mouth."

"But that is only _if_ he actually took the Oaths," Neville, almost reluctantly, pointed out. "There's no confirmation, either way?"

"None," Harry muttered, shaking his head. "And Amy pointed out that, even if he didn't betray them, that still doesn't explain Pettigrew and the dozen muggles that died. But that whole story just doesn't feel right to me."

"Is my Aunt looking into it?" Susan asked.

"She is, but she's doing it without approval. She was very clear that she could get into a lot of trouble for it. That's why she insisted that I not say anything to anyone about it."

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I still don't see why we don't take this to someone," Hermione muttered. "I understand you want to know what happened, but, innocent or not, he could still be dangerous. Do you think you're going to track him down yourself, or something?"

"I don't know, honestly." Harry sighed and dropped heavily back into his seat. "I just know that if the Aurors catch him, they'll feed him to the Dementors without asking any questions."

Susan was pinching her bottom lip between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand, her brow furrowed in thought. "Harry, could you at least write to Auntie?" she asked after a minute or so had passed them by. "I can understand not wanting to draw attention, but _someone_ needs to be told, and my Aunt is at least on your side. She would do her best to catch him without hurting him and she would try to find out the truth."

After a few minutes of contemplation Harry sighed and nodded in defeat.

"All right," he said. "I'll send her a letter later today. I just hope she doesn't try to take the map from me, there's no other way to explain how I know he was on the grounds." He gland at his watch and stood. "Look, we've only got about half an hour left before our usual end time, so we might as well just head back early today."

With all of them in agreement, the headed back to the tower and got ready for the day with the two boys beating the girls back to the Common Room by about five minutes. When the girls joined them, Neville reached over and poked Harry in the shoulder, directing his attention toward the stairs.

"Wow," Harry muttered under his breath when he caught sight of them.

Hermione stood in the middle, as usual, half turned away as she was talking to Daphne on her left side about something while they descended the steps. Her wild, tangled mane of curls had been pulled back into an elegant French braid that kept her hair out of her face and bared her slender neck for all to see. Daphne and Susan also each had their hair pulled back into a much simpler braid, and Harry found his gaze darting between the three of them until he noticed Neville standing up to greet them and he quickly shot to his feet as well.

"You three look very nice," he told them, somewhat awkwardly. Susan smiled and thanked him, cheerfully while Hermione flushed, just slightly at the compliment. Daphne thanked him, demurely, but her face held a curious look as she stared at him for several long moments, as if she were trying to work out the answer to some puzzling question.

She smiled, but just shook her head when he gave her a questioning look.

"Just something I'm trying to figure out," she said, pausing as she passed him to gently kiss his cheek. Wasting no further time, they each shouldered their bags and headed off to breakfast. The rest of the morning was spent finishing up any homework that they had left over and, right after lunch, they went off to their third Patronus lesson.

#####

Harry let out a frustrated growl as he lowered his wand blank and looked around the room at his friends. Hermione, Neville and Susan were each just managing to get a fine silver mist when they cast the charm, though he could tell that the effort was wearing on them. He and Daphne, however, had yet to achieve any visible result with their attempts at the charm.

"Try not to worry too much about it," Remus advised as they were wrapping up a half an hour later. "The two of you have had harder lives. Just keep trying to come up with a good memory, keep practicing, and you'll get it eventually."

Harry gave the professor the best smile he could as the man left the Room, but it fell away as soon as the door clicked shut behind him. Unfortunately, Harry felt that the memory was really only half of the problem. The other half being his limitations as far as the power requirement went. He knew he had plenty of power, and could say that without boasting, he could feel it, humming just beneath his skin and in his arm whenever he drew up the magic needed to perform the charm, but his wand blank simply could not handle the power requirements necessary for him to cast the charm successfully. Not without burning out, at least, and as much as Harry was really coming to like Remus, he didn't know if he could trust him enough to show off his wandless abilities.

Said abilities had been increasing steadily with constant practice nearly every single day and he was at the point where he could perform any spell in his repertoire with the incantation that he had been able to do when he still had his wand, and easily half of those he could do silently if he focused hard enough. He'd gotten to the point where he could summon up the magic he needed for just about any standard spell in less than a second, though it still took longer for some of the more powerful spells in his arsenal.

Lost in thought, Harry sank into a chair as Neville and the girls chatted quietly. He stared off into space for a time before he decided he needed to know, for himself, and finally snapped out of his musings. He slowly stood, extending his right arm out in front of him, focusing as hard as he could on every happy moment that he could think of, his eyes closed tightly in concentration.

When he opened them a moment later, they, almost literally, _blazed_ with power, glowing so brightly the air around his head seemed to hold a green tint to it.

"Expecto Patronum," he spoke in a surprisingly calm and measured tone. Instantly, a corona of brightly glowing silver mist erupted from the palm of his hand, extending out for a half a dozen feet. The cloud writhed and swirled in the air, moving like a living thing for a handful of seconds before it suddenly winked out of existence, as if it had never been and Harry slumped back into his seat again as a wave of exhaustion crashed over him.

"Jeez, Harry," Neville breathed out. "Where have you been hiding that?"

Harry shrugged, a little self-consciously, and absently stroked the scar behind his jaw. "Eh… I couldn't put enough power into it with the wand blank or I'd burn it out, so…" He trailed off awkwardly and waved his hand by way of explanation.

"That was a lot brighter than any of ours were," Susan pointed out.

"Yeah, maybe, but there's still no shape to it," he growled. Tiredly, he pushed himself to his feet and moved over to join the rest of them. The five of them found seats as the Room reshaped itself around them into their corner of the Common Room. "It's a little disconcerting, actually, that I can keep every happy memory that I have in mind simultaneously, and that's still not enough to shape a patronus."

His friends exchanged a sad look while he brooded, oblivious to their reactions For Neville, he was sad for the difficult and painful life his friend had lead. Neville saw Harry as the closest thing to a brother that he would ever have and vowed, silently, to help Harry build as many happy memories as possible.

Susan frowned, her brow wrinkling as she thought over their several situations. Sirius Black. Keeping up with school and their extra practice. Daphne and Lord Greengrass. Dementors surrounding the school and how badly they affected Harry. The issue with Malfoy wasn't getting any better either. The git wasn't actively antagonizing Harry as much in the last three weeks, but he was still making Daphne take a few meals each week with him at the Slytherin table where he continued to spew hateful and suggestive remarks at her. Daphne already was unsure enough about men, Susan worried such continued exposure to the likes of Malfoy would turn her off from even trying to see if she could have more with Harry.

Actually, Susan was somewhat surprised that her beautiful blond bond mate hadn't already killed the slimy tosser. She was reasonably certain that Daphne was Slytherin enough to do so and completely get away with it, if she really put her mind to it. On top of that issue, Mister Malfoy had yet to respond to Harry's letter regarding his Heir attacking the Lord of a Most Ancient and Noble House. No clue what was going on there.

As her friends talked around her, Susan's eyes drifted from one person to another, her mind looking for some way to alleviate at least some of the stress they were under. Without realizing that she was doing it, she found herself watching Hermione and Daphne more carefully than was usual for her.

Since the night Daphne kissed the bushy haired witch, Susan had noticed a marked increase in the amount the other girl blushed, seemingly for no reason. Times like right then, when she was actively engaged in conversation and her mind was focused, she was fine. But often, when she wasn't busy with something and let her mind wander, she would flush at the most random seeming times and, usually, her gaze would dart toward Daphne for a moment before she would look away.

More recently, Susan had noticed Hermione shooting the same sort of looks at _her_ as well and she couldn't help an occasional pleased thrill at the thought of what might be going through her bond mates mind to make her blush like that.

Susan suddenly gave herself a mental shake as her thoughts wandered into dangerous, and unrelated territory and tried to focus back on the immediate issues. The fact that Harry had so few happy memories, and none apparently strong enough for what was needed struck her deeply. But there wasn't much that could be done about it right away, that was something that would take time, but she was determined, and she knew Hermione and Daphne would agree with her, that they were going to make sure that he had many more happy memories to look back on in the future. And whatever was going on inside Hermione's head would have to wait until the girl had decided what she wanted.

Too many things had to be put off, for now, too many things that they couldn't actually deal with, at present. Luckily, she felt that things between the four of them were decidedly less tense than they had been a few weeks previously. There was still an underlying wariness, particularly in Harry, but how could she…

Every eye in the room turned in her direction when she suddenly cursed under her breath and her hand came up to slap herself sharply in the forehead.

"Susan?" Hermione asked and Susan laughed, nervously.

"Uhhh… heh… sorry about that."

Harry shook his head. "No worries, but what's up? That's your 'I feel stupid cause a thought just occurred to me that I think I should have thought of earlier,' move."

Susan stuck her tongue out at him and the rest chuckled for a moment before focusing back on her and she shifted nervously in her seat beside Hermione, her eyes darting toward Neville occasionally as she tried to think of how best to word what she wanted to say.

"I think," Neville remarked, dryly, "that Susan feels the four of your need some privacy."

"I'm sorry, Neville, I don't want to-"

"Susan, it's fine," Neville said, gently. Standing he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "I've got work I should be getting to in the Greenhouses, anyway, so I'll see you guys at dinner." He stopped next to Susan and placed a hand on her shoulder, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Make sure you four are all okay. You all mean a lot to me and I just want you to be happy."

"I really didn't want to chase him off," Susan muttered when the door closed behind Neville a few moments later, leaving the four of them alone.

"I'm sure he knows that, Susan," Harry hastened to assure her. "And you know Neville, he's a good bloke. I'm honestly not sure we deserve to be his friend, sometimes." He leaned forward in his seat, looking carefully at her. "So, what was it that occurred to you?" he asked, and she could feel Hermione's and Daphne's curiosity spiking as he voiced the question.

She shifted again in her seat but took a deep breath and shoved any nervousness aside. "Since we agreed we needed to be more open we haven't really done anything about that, have we?" She looked around at each of their faces as she saw understanding reach them, one by one.

That understanding expression shifted a moment later to something guarded on Harry's face, and a small feeling of sorrow passed through her at the sight of it.

"What do you suggest we do about it?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I suggest we talk. Us girls, to be more precise. We've got the most that needs to be shared, really." She sat up straighter in her seat, her hands folded in her lap before she started to speak. "I was always very lonely, before coming here," she said. "My Aunt did her best, but her job is very demanding. There were many days where I hardly saw her at all, and with no other family… well, Hannah and my tutors became my only friends." Her fingers twisted in her lap and she found herself staring at the fire, rather than looking to any of her bond mates.

"I don't know… sometimes I feel like I don't belong in this bond. I haven't dealt with a fraction of what you three have. My world was pretty sheltered really, just a little lonely."

"Being lonely isn't a simple thing," Hermione said, wrapping one arm around Susan's shoulders. "I know how awful being alone can be. But you know, it's not a competition, right? Which one of us has the most demons to overcome. You're bonded to us, so you belong with us just as much as the rest of us do. Don't ever doubt that."

Hermione hesitated for just a moment, then pressed a kiss to Susan's temple, causing the other girl to smile at the simple gesture.

"I'm not really sure what else I can say," Daphne admitted a while later, after Hermione went into more detail over the bullying and isolation that she'd suffered in primary school. "I've told you how I grew up, how I was treated."

"What made you start drawing?" Harry asked, speaking up for the first time. During the entirety of Susan's and Hermione's confessions, he had done nothing but listen, his eyes studying them carefully.

Daphne blinked, just slightly taken aback by the unexpected question and her hand moved to her left pocket, where she always carried the art case and sketchpads that Harry had gifted to her on their first Christmas together. She kept it shrunk and on her person at all times, just in case.

"It was my mother's suggestion, actually. Serving a couple of different purposes. First, it is expected for a Lady to do something artistic, be that music, dancing, or actual art like drawing and painting. She encouraged me to find something I could do well, but also stressed that I do something that I enjoyed. Which was the second reason. She wanted me to have something I could use as an escape from my lessons."

Harry's eyes narrowed angrily at the reminder of the 'lessons' Daphne had been subjected to over the years as Hermione turned and wrapped her arms around the blond. Mentally he added another item to the list of crimes perpetrated by Lord Greengrass. Harry had thought, after his conversation with Tracey in their first year, that Daphne just enjoyed art. Of course it wouldn't be that simple. It was just something else to remind her of what she suffered and what was expected of her.

"I really do enjoy drawing and painting, though. It might be expected of me as a pureblood girl, but I do not mind that aspect. It has been a comforting activity for me for years now," Daphne said, relaxing into Hermione's arms and Harry slowly forced away the tension he could feel in his body. Okay, if she enjoyed her art, then he wouldn't get bent out of shape over how she'd come to doing it to begin with.

Conversation flowed a little more naturally, after that, with less of each girl talking, and more of an actual exchange of question and answer. Harry took it all in, waiting for the moment when one of them would decide it was his turn.

That moment never came.

Hermione had just finished telling them about her growing interest in creature and animal rights, since Malfoy had been raising a stink all over the castle about trying to get Buckbeak and Snuffles destroyed as 'dangerous beasts'. The fact that the Hippogriff hadn't actually hurt him and that Snuffles hadn't been seen since that day in class didn't seem to mean anything.

"Why haven't you asked?" he finally blurted out after nearly an hour had passed since Susan initiated their little share session.

"Asked what?" Hermione ventured after the three of them exchanged a confused look.

"Anything, really, but I keep expecting one of you to ask about the Dursleys."

"We do want to know," Susan admitted.

"But we promised to be more open and to stop pushing you like we were before," Hermione added. "That wasn't fair of us, and even though we were only trying to help, we didn't go about it very well."

Harry considered that, eyeing them, not quite distrustfully, but definitely warily. It sent a spike of pain and shame through all three of them, that their actions were what caused him to view them with such suspicion.

"I don't want pity, and I don't like thinking about it. Why can't we just leave it at that?" There was no anger or bitterness in his voice, only a deep weariness.

"Not to seem like I'm trying to talk you into it," Daphne started, "but haven't you said yourself that Healer Gant has repeatedly suggested that you talk about it with us? And you said you felt better after you and I talked that night in first year."

"And the night after my birthday last year when I saw your nightmare," Hermione pinted out. "You said you felt better that someone else knew about it aside from just you, even though you wished I hadn't had to see it to begin with."

"When you feel up to it, Harry," Susan told him, leaning forward to look him in the eye, "you don't need to tell us in excruciating detail, like you probably had to deal with when you gave your statement for the case against your parents. We don't need to know every little thing. It would be nice to be able to share some of that burden, especially if it'll help you with healing."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, but lapsed back into silence as, slowly, the girl's conversation picked up again. He had nothing else to add for the rest of the time they sat there, talking, but it was quite clear that he was deep in thought, throughout.

He stopped them, some time later, just as they were about to step into the Great Hall for dinner.

"Thank you," he said, and smiles lit the girl's faces as they felt his gratitude far more clearly than his words alone could ever have expressed. One at a time, they each pulled him into a hug before the four of them headed inside and found seats with their friends at the Hufflepuff table, feeling lighter than they had in months.

#####

On Halloween morning, Hedwig swept into the kitchen at the Boneyard and landed in front of a half-full breakfast plate, eyeing the few pieces of bacon with a speculative gleam in her golden eyes. Amelia's return look held far more trepidation than speculation.

"Has Harry gotten himself set on fire again?" she asked as she untied the letter. "Maybe he's called for a blood feud against House Malfoy?" She quirked a small smile when Hedwig let out an exasperated sounding bark. "I don't envy you. Trying to keep that human of yours out of trouble is an exhausting job, isn't it?"

Hedwig's barking definitely sounded like agreement, that time, and Amelia softly stroked her feathers as the bird started picking pieces of bacon off of her plate.

"That young man is just lucky that we love him, isn't he?"

" _ **Brek!"**_ Hedwig barked, bobbing her head in clear agreement with the red haired witch.

After feeding Hedwig the rest of her unfinished bacon, Amelia sat back and broke the seal on the letter before she unrolled it and tapped it with her wand, silently casting a charm that allowed the letter to lie flat and smooth out any possible folds or creases in the parchment at the same time.

Hedwig watched as the woman's eyebrows climbed further up her forehead the further she got into the, relatively short, missive.

"Son of a…"

Amelia set the letter down and reached for her wand, quickly tapping her Auror badge with it.

"Senior Auror Shacklebolt and Auror Cadet Tonls, meet me in my office as soon as possible."

She stood and scooped up the letter as she stowed her wand in its holster and started for the Floo Access room, leaving Hedwig to rest where she would before beginning her flight back to the school. Less than a minute later, she was stepping out of a large fireplace and into the Ministry Atrium, her monocle firmly in place over her left eye and her face set in the emotionless mask she wore when on duty. She bypassed the security desk with a wave to Auror Dawlish, who was on duty at that time, heading straight for the lifts and stepped onto one as soon as the doors open, quickly pressing the button for her floor.

"Good morning, Director Bones."

Amelia didn't jump, but she did spin around, her wand snapping into her hand and coming to rest with the glowing tip pointing directly into the shadowed hood of a cloaked Unspeakable.

"Director Croaker," she acknowledged in an even tone, her wand never moving.

"Sorry," Croaker said, apparently completely unperturbed by the wand in their face. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"I'm sure," she drawled sarcastically, nothing that the lift had apparently stopped moving. "I'm just it's just a coincidence that you happened to be behind me inside a lift I am positive was empty when I stepped on."

Croaker shrugged. "Must be," they said as Amelia slowly lowered her wand but kept it in hand.

"What can I do for the Director of the DOM?" she asked.

"It's not about what you can do for me, but what the DOM can do for you, Director Bones."

Mentally, Amelia groaned. "I don't have the time or the patience for all the cloak and dagger bullshit, Croaker. Spit it out, or get out." She glanced around at the interior of the lift. "And get this lift going again. I have an appointment to keep that I do not want to be late for."

"I assure you, Director, you will not be late meeting Auror Shaklebolt or Cadet Tonks in regards to the situation with Black."

Amelia's wand came up again and her glare was very nearly murderous as she studied her fellow Department Head.

"No one outside the Department know's anything about your secret investigation," he swore as her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I'd like to know how it is that _you_ know, and why."

"Nothing sinister, you have my word."

"I'm going to need more than that."

Slowly, carefully, the Director drew their wand and held it up in front of them. "I, Director Croaker, do swear on my magic that I hold no ill will toward Madam Bones or anyone under her protection."

There was a flash of light and after Croaker put away their wand, Amelia lowered hers but still did not return it to its holster.

"Just because you hold no ill will doesn't mean you wouldn't hurt myself or my charges if you felt it was necessary, just that you wouldn't be doing so out of malice," she pointed out.

"And that thinking is exactly why I keep saying that you would be a great asset to the DOM. You just lack the patience for the 'cloak and dagger bullshit'."

"We've had this conversation a dozen times, Croaker, I'm not switching departments. Now, what do you want?"

"I, and my department, have a professional interest in Lord Potter and his bond mates, both because of their bond and for some other reasons that I am wary of discussing, yet. The Department wishes to help, in our own way, but, understandably, the Lord Potter is a less than trusting individual. I was hoping that you might be willing to talk to him on our behalf, perhaps arrange a meeting so we can at least pitch our offer to him and the others."

Amelia eyed the cloaked figure carefully. "You don't give people much reason to trust you, yet you sure to ask for an awful lot of trust in return," she noted.

"An unfortunate side effect of the Department. The DOM works in secret for good reasons, Amelia. Many good reasons, actually. In the case of Lord Potter, the time for secrets is owing to an end. There is quite a bit that has been discovered, and Potter's importance is more clear than ever. All I ask is a chance to talk to them."

"You've already met with them, why didn't you give your pitch then?"

"That meeting was specifically regarding something else, and, at the time, I used it to get a feel for the lad and see what I thought of him. After meeting him, I feel I have a better understanding of him and feel it will soon be time that we will need to work more closely with him if we want to survive what is coming."

"What _is_ coming?"

"That, I must discuss with Lord Potter and his bond mates."

Amelia considered that, carefully. There were enough forces against her kids already with Voldemort still out there, this prophecy that Dumbledore mentioned but still refused to give details of, and who knew what else. She knew about the Hall of Prophecy in the DOM, so perhaps Croaker was offering assistance in regards to that issue, or perhaps there was something else they were attempting to bring to the table. The sorting hat _did_ say, though, that momentous events would take place around Harry, and she knew that they could use all the help they could get. And besides, as secretive and suspicious as the Unspeakables were, she knew damn well that they only ever worked for the betterment of wizard kind. She was reasonably positive they weren't out to harm Harry or the others.

"All I can do is bring it up to them," she said, turning her back on Croaker even as her wand shot back into the holster strapped to her arm with a loud click. "It'll be their decision what they do after that."

"That's all I'm asking."

A moment later the lift started moving again.

"Oh, and Croaker?"

"Yes, Director?"

"I have an office. The next time you want to talk to me, use it."

"Of course."

A moment later the lift came to a stop and the doors opened with a loud rattling noise. Amelia stepped out and glanced back as the doors closed on an empty lift.

"I _hate_ it when they do that," she grumbled under her breath before she made her way to her office. Carol wasn't in, yet, and Tonks and Shack hadn't arrived, either. Stepping into her office, she hung her cloak up on a peg near the door before she sat behind her desk and pulled several sheets of parchment from one of the drawers.

When a knock sounded at her door ten minutes later she was still filling in the parchment work.

"Come ahead," she called, and the door swung silently open, admitting the two individuals she's been waiting for.

"Thanks for coming so quickly," she said, still looking down at the parchment in front of her as she continued to write. Silently, the two took a seat and waited while Amelia's quill scratched away for several more minutes.

Eventually, she put down her quill and leaned back in her seat for a moment before turning her attention to the two uniformed figures in front of her.

"Report on the Black situation?"

"I've only been able to find a few things without tipping anyone off. Obviously I didn't get a chance to go speak to him at the prison like I planned. He escaped before I was able to work out a pretense to go out there. But, looking back over the records of the time, the obvious players were Crouch, Bagnold, and Dumbledore."

"Right, Bagnold was Minister at the time and Crouch had my position," Amelia agreed. "Crouch was almost rabid in his pursuit of Death Eaters during the war."

"And Dumbledore was Chief Warlock, even back then." Shack continued. "Crouch was well known for com paining for Aurors to be allowed to use the Unforgivables in the pursuit of their duties as well as pushing for maximum sentencing in _all_ criminal trials, not just those of Death Eaters. He resigned after his own son was brought in, along with the Lestranges for the attack against Frank and Alice Longbottom."

Amelia winced at the reminder, but nodded and turned her attention to Tonks.

"Well, it took a while, but I was finally able to get into the records department by disguising myself as one of the clerks."

"And?"

"And there are no records for the criminal trial of one Sirius Orion Black."

Amelia and Shacklebolt both started in surprise.

"What?" she blurted out.

"Could it have been misfiled?" Shack asked. "A clerical error?"

Tonks shook her head, her spiked up pink hair swaying with the motion. "It's all automatic. _If_ a trial took place, the documents appear, as they're supposed to, without any human interaction needed. The fact that the records aren't there means that Sirius _never_ had a trial in the first place. He was arrested and then thrown directly into Azkaban. No official charges were ever actually filed against him."

Amelia cursed, long, loud, and to a degree that impressed Shack while Tonks found herself wondering if she should be taking notes.

"Merlin's fucking pants. Sirius could be guilty as sin, but this complete cock up means that he should walk, free and clear, regardless of his guilt or innocence."

"Boss?" Tonks asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Ministerial law. We can only hold a suspect for a maximum of thirty days from the time of their arrest. If no charges are filed in that time, the suspect _must_ be released. Sirius' entire case is nothing but a massive miscarriage of justice and criminal actions on the part of the Ministry against the Lord of a Most Ancient and Noble House!"

"If that get's out, the Wizengamont will collectively lose their shit," Shack muttered.

"Do we think Fudge knows, and that's why he's so against looking into the case" Tonks asked.

"I don't think so, though if he did, he'd _really_ lose his mind," Amelia disagreed with a shake of her head. "No, I believe that he just wants to sweep everything under the rug so it looks to the public like the Ministry has everything under control."

"So why can't we take this to Fudge?" Tonks wondered. "This is huge."

"Because if it gets out that this happened, the Ministry, and Fudge, will come under fire from the public. He would much rather see Black kissed and have everything covered up than have to deal with the shit stork that'll hit him, along with a huge drop in his approval ratings."

"Fucking bastard is really more worried about his popularity than a possibly innocent man's life?" Tonks ground out, furiously.

"That's Fudge. His popularity and power are the _only_ things that matter to him," Kingsley rumbled in his deep bass voice.

"If we take this to him, after he expressly forbade me from looking into it, not only will we all find ourselves sacked, but probably also brought up on some trumped up charges in order to keep us quiet."

"So what are we going to do?" Tonks finally asked after a few minutes.

"We're going to catch Black ourselves. I have a new assignment for you two, but first…" Amelia leaned forward and picked up the several sheets of parchment she'd been working on when the two of them came into her office.

"Auror Cadet Tonks," she said. "You are approximately half way through your three year training to join the Auror ranks. I have need of your abilities, but it is not something I can assign to a Cadet. I have here, what would be considered a field promotion to have you advanced to the rank of Auror Junior Grade. You will no longer attend Academy classes, but you will still be responsible for passing all written and practical exams.

"If you score below 90% on any upcoming exams, you _will_ be removed from the Academy roster and will have to apply to the Academy again to start over from scratch with the next class. I know that's harsh, but it is also a reflection of your abilities. Promoting you this early means I expect only the best from you and I believe you to be capable of completing the tasks ahead. Do you accept this promotion?"

At first shocked, Tonks' expression slowly morphed into one of intense concentration as she listened to the requirements that came with her offered promotion.

"I can study on my own time," she muttered, thoughtfully. "The only test that I was at all concerned about was stealth. I'm too clumsy for it, and we already took that course, so I don't need to worry about that, anymore." She stood and moved forward until she was standing at attention right in front of Amelia's desk.

"Director Bones, I gratefully accept the promotion and I swear, Ma'am, I won't let you down."

Amelia allowed herself a small smile as she signed the bottom of the parchment. "See that you don't Auror JG Tonks." There was a flash of light and the top sheet morphed and changed into a shiny badge with Tonks' name and rank printed on it. Tonks removed the Cadet Badge from her robes and handed it over, accepting the new badge as Amelia held it out and after a quick inspection, she pinned it to her robes.

"All right," Amelia started after Tonks retook her seat. "Your morphing abilities. How big a difference can you make in your body? Size wise, could you make yourself believably thirteen-years-old?"

Tonks winced. "It's not impossible. But it ain't fun, either."

"How so."

"Changing my body mass too much isn't easy, and it's also a bit painful. Like, I couldn't turn into Shack, not really, since he's so much bigger than I am I just don't have the physical mass to completely copy him. I could look just like him, but I'd only be able to manage a bit taller, or a little bulkier, than my current size, and I wouldn't be able to hold it up for long. Going smaller is easier, but it get's uncomfortable after a while."

"How long a while?"

"A few days? Maybe?"

"So if you were to pose as a third year student at Hogwarts, you could keep it up during the day for classes and such and could return to your usual form at night so that you don't spend too long in your altered shape?"

Understanding dawned and Tonks nodded, a grin spreading across her face. "Aye, that I could do, Boss."

"Good. I want you to get started on a false identity. Full background and history. You're going back to school." After Tonks nodded her understanding, Amelia turned her attention to Shacklebolt. "I want you stationed at the school as well. We're going to be heading out there later this evening."

"Could I ask why the sudden call to action?" Kingsley asked.

"I received a letter from Harry this morning. Apparently he spotted Black on the grounds yesterday morning. He didn't tell me where or how, only that he would be able to explain to me in person. If Black really did get onto the grounds we need to catch him. With this new information, it's even more imperative that _we_ get him before anyone else, or the Dementors get hold of him. The absolute last thing we need is for him to get kissed before we can turn this around."

Shack nodded.

"Get your kits together and meet me back here at close of business. I'd prefer to keep this assignment off books, but we know that some kids at the school will end up writing home about the Auror assigned to the school so it'll end up getting back to the Ministry, eventually. I'll be having a long chat with Dumbledore to make sure this is all settled. With any luck, we'll be able to sit still long enough to tell him we don't believe in his guilt and try to get him to come along quietly so we can do something about it."

"I'll be thinking over any other ways we can use what we've found. I can't believe that there's no way to use this to our advantage and tie up Fudge so he can't interfere. He's not all powerful."

"No, he's not. But he's still got more power and more support than we do, so we need to tread carefully."

The two of them nodded their agreement and Amelia gestured toward the door.

"Go on and get out of here," she said. "Try to relax for the day, your excused from duty until I see you back here at five this evening."

After the two Aurors left her office, Amelia leaned back in her chair and let out a long sigh.

"Twelve years," she muttered to her empty office. "Twelve years I've been so sure, so _positive_ that you were guilty. Gods, I'm not sure how you'll ever forgive me. I don't know that I'll ever be able to forgive myself."

A moment later she scrubbed at her eyes, dashing away the tears that wanted to fall before they got the chance and leaned forward again, pulling her in-box closer so she could start working her way through the mound of parchment, losing herself in the day to day workings of her office before she could let her emotions get the best of her.

There would be time enough, later, for recriminations.

#####

Sirius waited perhaps ten minutes after Hagrid left his hut to walk up to the castle for the Halloween feast. From his vantage point looking out from beneath the roots of the Whomping Willow he had a clear view of most of the grounds leading up to the castle itself. His body practically hummed with anxious energy, even as his empty belly rumbled plaintively. The weeks since that one day where he actually got a couple of full meals had been lean, but he wasn't complaining.

Finally, after he felt that enough time had passed, he poked his large black head out of the tunnel and gave a soft 'woof', then waited as patiently as he could for his partner in crime. When he arrived, it happened so silently that Sirius could almost imagine that he had flown over above the grass to dart up to the trunk of the tree and press one ginger paw against a specific knot in the trunk.

Instantly, the near incessant swaying of the Willow's long branches ceased as the tree became completely still and Sirius quickly scrambled out of the tunnel and onto the grounds, moving to a safe distance as fast as he could. As soon as he was clear, the large half-kneazle darted away from the tree and sat down near him, nonchalantly bathing one paw as if he hadn't a care in the world.

"I owe you, buddy," Sirius told the feline, gratefully scratching the animal behind the ears to show his appreciation. "I promise, if it's at all within my power, once this is done, I'll find your owner and I will make damn sure that you have all the toys you could want to chase and fresh fish to eat every day for the rest of your nine lives."

The animal licked his chops, staring intently at Sirius for several seconds before he turned and ghosted away, his large, bottlebrush tail twitching happily behind him until Sirius lost sight of him in the gloom of night.

A second later, a large black dog loped off into the night, head unerringly toward the castle entrance.

#####

From the early morning hours, Harry had been in a less than pleasant mood, though he did his best not to take it out on the people around him. Luckily, Neville and his girls knew the reason for his moody silence and took no offense, while, simultaneously, doing their best to run interference for him from the other students in the school. None of them had any great love for Halloween, either, so it was no loss to them to not celebrate the day.

By the time the evening feast came around, Harry and the rest made their way down to the Great Hall, resigned to their required presence and hoping to simply eat quickly and leave as soon as they could. Harry only prayed for a quiet Halloween.

When the five of them saw Amelia, Shacklebolt, and a young girl they didn't recognize enter the Great Hall mid way through the feast and make their way toward the Head Table to speak to the Headmaster, they knew quiet was not, and probably never had been, an option.

"Don't call for us, don't call for us, don't call for us," Harry muttered over and over under his breath, his eyes narrowed in the direction of the visitors. "Shite," he swore a moment later when Amelia turned and waved for him and his friends to join them as she followed the Headmaster to a small antechamber behind the Head Table.

"Seriously, is it so hard to have a quiet Halloween where absolutely nothing happens?" Harry complained as they set down their utensils and stood, moving around the Gryffindor table and toward the door at the back of the Hall.

"In this place?" Neville asked. "Probably."

Harry only grunted sourly and said nothing more until they reached the door. Without bothering to knock, Harry grabbed the latch and pulled it open, leading the rest of them inside where Neville closed the door behind them and they found a table situated in the center of the room with the three adults and one girl already sitting, waiting for them.

"Lord Potter," Dumbledore greeted them. "Lord Longbottom and Misses Granger, Greengrass, and Bones, please, come join us."

They approached the table and found seats around it, Neville and the girls looking curious while Harry felt wary and apprehensive.

"What is this about?" he asked as he sank into a seat with Hermione on his right side, Daphne to his immediate left and Susan on Daphne's other side while Neville sat next to the girl that had come in with Amelia and Shack. As he sat, Harry took that moment to study the girl.

Dressed in Hogwarts robes with Gryffindor trim, she appeared to be of average height, maybe an inch or so shorter than Harry was, with a heart shaped face and the high cheekbones and aristocratic features they'd come to associate with people like Malfoy. Her eyes were large and a vivid violet color that stood out sharply against her pale complexion framed by inky black hair that hung around her face and down her back in silken waves that reached her elbows. She was, in a word, beautiful.

"We've found some information in the Black case. I also received your letter this morning, and before we get to that I promised you that I would keep you informed on everything that I could in regards to this entire situation. Since your friends already know, which I understand why you told them, I figured it'd be easier to do it all in one go rather than have you just trying to explain it all to them later," Amelia said with a slight smirk and Harry had the grace to look a tad sheepish, but he wasn't going to apologize for telling them the truth. They'd deserved to know and it only helped all of them to be kept informed.

"I've had Shack and Tonks helping me to look into things as discreetly as possible for the last couple of months, ever since you asked me about Sirius at the start of the summer, Harry," Amelia started. "It's been slow going, since we've all had to be very careful what we asked, who we asked, and so on, but Tonks finally found some information that puts this entire investigation into an entirely new light." She turned, glancing at Albus before continuing.

"Albus, were you aware that Sirius Black was _never_ given a trial?"

"WHAT?"

Susan didn't care that every eye turned immediately to her, nor did she care that she'd leapt to her feat without even thinking. Idly she noted that Daphne and Neville were similarly incensed though they'd refrained from leaping out of their seats.

"Are you honestly saying that the Lord of a Most Ancient and Noble House was tossed into Azkaban without the benefit of a trial?" Susan demanded, harshly, ignoring the dumbfounded look on Dumbledore's face as her Aunt focused on her.

"That's exactly what Tonks found, Susan. Even worse no charges were ever actually filed against him. Even if he _is_ guilty, the Ministry has no legal option but to release him, and with Fudge attempting to have Black kissed as soon as possible, that is unlikely to happen."

"I assure you, Madame Bones, I had no knowledge that Black did not receive a trial. I was not directly involved in his case since I felt that I was too close to it as I had considered him and the potters friends while they worked with me during the war. I focused my attentions on trying to get Harry somewhere safe as well as working to help get our society back on its feet after the damage done by the years of conflict with Voldemort and his forces."

"What in the hell does all that mean?" Harry demanded, echoed by Hermione beside him, though without the colorful language mixed in.

Quickly, Amelia and Shacklebolt explained what they'd discussed earlier that day in her office. Harry's eyes were gleaming brilliantly and his hands were clenched into tight fists on top of the table by the time they'd finished.

"Why don't we just go to the Prophet with this?" he growled out. "Fudge can't be allowed to get away with doing this."

"The prophet writes what Fudge tells them to write. As soon as this story is brought to them, someone would be contacting the Ministers office and by the next day staff would have been fired, discredited, and some would likely have been driven from the magical world entirely to take refuge in the muggle world," Shack rumbled. "Added to that, and Amelia would immediately come under suspicion since, as far as Fudge knows, she's the only one that has ever questioned the official story regarding Black."

"Professor, why don't you seem more surprised by the idea that Black might be innocent?" Daphne asked, noting Dumbledore's utter lack of reaction.

"I sent him the information Harry gave me that started this whole thing. Excerpts from his mother's journal during her seventh year here as well as from several letters to Harry, written by Lily and James, both."

"With the exception of informing me that Sirius never had a trial," Dumbledore pointed out to Amelia.

"I wanted to see your reaction, personally, when you received that information," she admitted and he shot her a pained look.

"You cannot believe that I would ever have let anyone go to that awful place without being absolutely certain that they were guilty," he blurted out.

"I didn't _want_ to believe you capable of something like that, but you have made plenty of mistakes around Harry since that night," she shot back, completely unapologetically. "I had to be sure."

Dumbledore frowned, but nodded silently as he considered the many mistakes he had made and the many lapses in judgement and what the consequences of his actions had been.

"So, was telling us that Black should be free and clear but Fudge is determined to murder him and there's nothing we can do about it the only reason you came?" Susan asked, scowling at the blatant criminal behavior of their Minister.

"No, we're going to do our best to catch Sirius ourselves. I'm assigning Kingsley to a post here in the castle. I only wish that I could assign a couple more Aurors, but I can't," Amelia said, choosing to ignore her niece's tone, since she knew it wasn't directed at her. "Harry, your letter said that you saw Black within the grounds but you didn't mention where or how. Care to explain?"

Harry winced and leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath before he reached into the inside pocket of his robes. The moment his fingers touched the parchment, he whispered the password under his breath and pulled the map out, holding it tightly in hand for a moment before he started unfold it. The moment he did, he glanced down at it, just as he opened his mouth to speaak, and froze, his eyes fixed on the map for several long moments.

When he remained silent, Amelia leaned forward, her face showing a small amount of concern. "Harry?" she asked, and at the sound of her voice, his eyes darted up toward her before flicking toward the, still unnamed girl, sitting on the adults side of the table.

"Wotcher, Nymphadora," he said, grinning.

"How the hell did you learn that name, Potter?" the girl practically screeched, her eyes widening to impossible levels for a moment before snapping back to more human proportions. "I've been very careful never to mention it around y... aahhhh crud." The girl flushed brilliantly as she realized she'd just somehow been played by a thirteen-year-old and dropped her unbelievably red face into her arms, folded on the table in front of her, muttering darkly under her breath and praying for the ground ot open up and swallow her whole for screwing up so badly right in front of her boss.

Neville and the girls tried not to smile as the other adults in the room picked their jaws up off the floor and simply stared at Harry in complete confusion.

"Okay, how did you know that was her, or even what her first name really is?" Amelia demanded. "I know for a fact she's never mentioned it before since she hates her first name with a passion."

Smiling, Harry laid the map out flat on the table so everyone could see and pointed to the dot in the room with the rest of them that was clearly labeled 'Nymphadora Tonks'. Hey, if he was going to get the map confiscated after only having it for a couple of weeks, he felt better knowing that at least he used it to get one last prank in before it happened.

"This is how I saw Black on the grounds yesterday morning while I was sitting, safely, in the Gryffindor Common Room. This map shows the location of every living thing in the castle and on the grounds in real time."

The four adults, including Tonks in her younger guise, leaned over the map, studying it intently and with no small amount of surprise.

"These tunnels here are either caved in or blocked," Harry continued to explain as he pointed out various parts of the map. "This one leads to the cellar in Honeydukes, so I'm told, I haven't checked, personally. And this one we're not sure about where it goes since the Whomping Willow on the grounds is planted right above the entrance."

"Quite a remarkable bit of enchanting, and plenty of charms work, too, unless I miss my guess," Dumbledore muttered, thoroughly impressed with the map.

"Where did you get this?" Amelia asked. "And how long have you had it?"

Harry and his friends glanced at the Headmaster who, suddenly looked around the room with a mildly bemused expression on his face, his blue eyes twinkling merrily. "Oh! Dear me, I do apologize, but I fear I may have suddenly been struck deaf. One of the failings of advancing age. Do continue your discussion without me, I am sure my hearing will return when it is needed."

With that said, he leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers together and placing his hands comfortably on his chest as he closed his eyes and started humming quietly to himself, though Susan was fairly certain that his beard around his mouth twitched now and then with what might have been a smile.

Amelia smirked. "Well? You heard the man," she said, indicating the Headmaster. "Spill it while he's 'deaf' and can't hear who you're fingering."

After taking a moment to give the Headmaster an incredulous look, Harry did as he was told. "The Weasley twins gave it to me. They apparently found it back in their first year, and when they showed it to us I pointed out that my dad was Prongs." He indicated the name on the map's heading. "Moony is Professor Lupin, Padfoot is Sirius Black, and Wormtail was Peter Pettigrew. They made this map when they were students here, so we can be reasonably certain that Black knows all of the secret passages, if his memory is any good, at least. When the twins found out my dad helped make it they gave it to me. Said that as the son of one of the creators it should belong to me."

While Harry was busy explaining to his guardian where the map had come from, Kingsley was busy studying the artifact, searching the school floor by floor until he let out a sudden hiss that drew all attention to him. Even the headmaster, his hearing miraculously recovered, dropped all pretenses to give the big, dark-skinned Auror his undivided attention.

"What is it, Shack?"

"Well, if we are completely sure that this map is accurate, then is looks like Black is making his way toward Griffyndor Tower, right now."

There followed about two seconds of stunned silence before complete bedlam broke out as nearly everyone started talking at once. It took nearly a minute and a loud cannon blast from the Headmaster's wand before order was restored.

"Madam Bones," he said, standing tall and radiating power as his squashy armchair vanished behind him. "The Feast is very nearly over. I will have the staff keep the students here in the Great Hall and then I shall join you and your Aurors, in attempting to make contact with Mister Black, if that is acceptable to you?"

"No plans on trying to interfere?" she asked, skeptically and the aged wizard shook his head.

"No, Amelia, I have quite learned my lesson after last year."

She studied him for a moment longer before giving a quick nod. "Good enough for me, but don't think for a second that I'm not going to hold you too that. Kids, get back to your House table and keep quiet for, okay? Shack, Tonk, we do not want to hurt Black if at all pos-"

"I'm coing with you!"

"Absolutely not," Amelia snapped, rounding on Harry who had cut her off while beside her, Tonks was already transfiguring her robes and changing back into her usual appearance, complete with pink, spiked up hair. "We still don't know if he could be dangerous or not-"

"He's my Godfather," Harry tried to argue.

"Who might not be sane after over a decade spent around the Dementors, we've talked about this, Harry, and we don't have time to do it again."

Harry fumed and glared at her while tied to calm him down and Neville simply waited to back up his friend. It wasn't until Amelia reached out to pick up the map that Harry made, probably, one of the most foolish decisions of his young life, to date.

Before Amelia's hand could come into contact with it, Harry leaned forward and slammed his hand down flat on the maps surface, bright green eyes glowing dangerously as they met her shocked, deep blue stare and he hissed out in a venomous tone, "Mischief Managed!"

#####

The centuries of history represented within the ancient walls of Hogwarts could be said to cover many ideals and beliefs. Ideals of Honor, Bravery, Loyalty, Wisdom, Ambition. The individual ideals of the Founders aside, however, left one set of ideals remaining, one purpose to which the castles very existence was based upon.

For all that Hogwearts was a school, tasked with the education and instruction of the students, she was still, a castle. A fortress whose purpose it was to defend and protect those placed in her charge. To that end, Hogwarts was more heavily protected than most people know or suspected. Passive defenses, active defenses, secret passages and escape routes as well as sentries and guardians both hidden well and in plain sight.

Penelope, known to generations of students as the portrait of the Fat Lady that guarded the entrance into Gryffindor Tower was one such guardian. She had served in her current roll for over three centuries, and had never once failed in her duty. She had seen many strange and unusual things over the years, some of the strangest being in the past five or ten decades. As such, the bedraggled figure that approached during the evening of the Halloween Feast, was not an unfamiliar sight to her, though his condition certainly was a shock.

"Sirius Black," she acknowledged his presence as he stopped in front of her.

"Penny, my dear," he responded in a hoarse, scratchy sounding voice. "I need to get into the tower."

"How many nights did you spend outside this tower when you and your friends got back late and didn't yet know what I had changed the password to?" she asked, rhetorically. "If I wouldn't let you in back then, when you were actually a student here, what makes you think that I would willingly let you in now that you are a dangerous fugitive on the run?"

"Because, through no fault of your own, dear Lady, you have allowed a constant threat to the safety of your charges access to them, and I'm here only to stop that threat."

"With only your word that there is any such threat, Mister Black," she shot back, drawing herself up to her full height, an impressive and intimidating sight in her ten foot high frame, "I still can't let you in."

"You knew me for seven years, Penny," he insisted, staring at her pleadingly. "You know I would never have done anything to hurt James, or Lilly, or Harry."

"I've known thousands of witches and wizards over the centuries," she pointed out, "and I cannot tell you how many have gone on to do horrific things that I never would have suspected them to be capable of. You are no different."

Sighing, Sirius straightened up and withdrew a large knife from a pocket within his tattered robes.

"I am very sorry, then. My Lady, you might want to vacate your frame, because, with or without your help, I'm coming in."

#####

As the last of the ink vanished from the map, once again leaving it looking as nothing more than a blank, tattered piece of parchment, Amelia lifted her gaze to lock eyes once again with the incensed wizard on the other side of the table.

"What do you think you're doing?" she snapped.

"Not letting you put me on the sidelines as if I have no part in this."

"You don't have any part in this!" she barked. "You are still a minor and you are _my_ responsibility! You are not an Auror! And you could now be charged with interfering with an official ministry investigation!"

"I don't care! If you want to use _my_ map, then I'm coming with you."

"What's the password?" she snapped, turning to look at Neville.

"I'm sorry, Madam Bones, I can't tell you that. Harry is all but my brother and I swore an Oath to stand beside him. I can't betray that," he said, moving to stand shoulder to shoulder with his friend, his gaze as hard and determined as Harry's.

"Don't even try, Auntie," Susan muttered. "I'm not certain we agree with him, right now, but we won't betray him, either."

Daphne and Hermione both nodded, though the brunette witch did appear far more uncomfortable with the entire situation than the others did. Despite that, she looked no less determined.

"Merlin's beard, we do not have time for this!" Amelia snapped, glaring furiously at all five of them for a few heartbeats before coming to a decision. "Dammit… fine. You can come with but you'll stay behind us at all times. Now, unlock that map and hand it over."

She held one hand out expectantly and then barely bit back a curse when Harry shook his head.

"I'm not stupid, Amy," he told her. "I give you the map and we'll be stunned or locked in this room. We'll stay at the back behind you, but I'll hold the map and direct our path through the castle."

She did curse, then, but reluctantly agreed.

With the drama finally settled, Harry picked up the map, attached it to his left hand with a sticking charm, and then whispered the activation phrase. A quick glance was all it took for him to confirm that Black was still standing in the corridor outside the tower and in moments all nine of them were leaving the antechamber.

Dumbledore split off, stopping to whisper in McGonagall's ear as the rest of them made their way around the table and up the center of the Hall toward the great doors leading to the Grand Staircase, each of them ignoring the curious stares of the students at their tables and before they were even half way across the room they could hear the Deputy Headmistress calling out instructions as Dumbledore caught up to them and took a spot on Amelia's right side with Kingsley on his right and Tonks on Director Bone's left side. The five students fell into step behind them with Harry directing them towards every shortcut he could in an attempt to reduce the amount of time they spent working their way through the large and labyrinthine castle.

When they reached the Seventh floor, Harry directed them through a roundabout series of hidden passages that let them come out into the corridor just twenty feet behind Black, who was cursing and shouting as he slashed and dug at the tattered surface of the Fat Lady's portrait with a truly frightening looking knife.

"Sirius Black, turn around and drop the knife," Amelia called out as the adults spread out across the hall, each with a wand trained on the elusive fugitive.

He fell silent, mid rant, his entire posture tensing visibly, even over the distance between them, and slowly turned around. His dark eyes were dull and flat as he first gazed at the red haired witch in front of him, his eyes taking in the familiar wand pointed at him and the robes indicating her line of work.

The word that crossed the distance between them was spoke in a dry, rusty sounding voice that seemed more like it belonged to a small, frightened child than an adult.

"Amy?"

"Put the knife down, Siri," she tried again, her tone becoming considerably more gentle.

He didn't respond, his eyes moving to take in Dumbledore, Shacklebolt, and Tonks without much visible reaction, until he moved on to look at the kids bunched together behind the adults. One boy stood more in front of the others, his gaze hard, but cautious, and his wand trained steadily in Sirius' direction.

Slightly behind him were three girls, each very different from the other in appearance, yet each held identical expressions of wary concern on their faces as they stood protectively near a second boy. The birds nest of raven black hair atop the boy's head tugged at some painful memories and his jaw dropped as he staggered back a step, his free hand coming up slightly as if reaching out.

"Harry?" he gasped, eyes widening in recognition.

"You need to stop this, Mister Black," Harry tried, taking a single step forward out of the protective circle the girls had made until he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Neville. "You need to stop this and come with us."

Black shook his head, his elbow length hair flying about wildly.

"No. It's dangerous. I need… I need to get in here!" Growling in frustration he'd turned and slashed one more time at the ruined portrait before pounding a fist against it.

"PETER!" He bellowed. "He's in there. Fucking rat has been hiding and he's so close."

"Sirius," Amelia called, and then again when he didn't respond, finally catching his attention as he spun back around to them. "Sirius, the Minister isn't interested in anything you might have to say, but we are. I'm still an Auror, though. We have to take you in, but I promise, we'll see you protected until we can get to the bottom of this."

"He'll kill him," Black muttered insistently. "You can't let him go back in there. Not until you get him."

Amelia exchanged a look with her Aurors.

"No one is killing anyone, I promise you that," she tried again but he just shook his head once more.

"No!" he roared. "The Dementors can't have me, not until after I've killed that traitorous bastard!"

"Sirius, we don't think it's your fault. I don't think you betrayed my parents," Harry tried, taking another step forward, despite one of the girls tightly gripping his left arm. He thought it might have been Daphne.

"My fault," Sirius muttered. "It's al my fault. I shouldn't have let them… shouldn't have suggested… all my fault."

"Siriu-"

"It's all my fault!" he roared again, cutting Amelia off and suddenly threw the knife in his hand at Dumbledore who ducked to the side while Amelia, Shack, and Tonks each cast a spell in his direction.

Mouths dropped open as all three spells cleaved through the empty space that Black's torso had just occupied. Empty, because he'd suddenly shrunk and changed and in his place a large black dog stood growling at them.

"Snuffles?" Neville blurted out, shocked, just as the dog barreled toward them. It dodged around the adults and leaped, clearing over the kids with room to spare as it took off running down the hall with the Aurors and Headmaster right behind it.

"Stay here!" Amelia yelled and in moments they were gone.

"What the hell just happened?" Harry asked after a few seconds of stunned silence ticked by them.

"An animagus," Hermione muttered. "He's got to be an animagus, like Professor McGonagall can change into a cat."

"So Snuffles was really Black all along?" Neville asked.

"Looks like it," Harry said, his eyes fixed on the map he still held in one hand as he turned and started walking briskly in the opposite direction from where Sirius had the others had run off. "Come on."

"Harry? Amy told us to stay here," Hermione reminded him, though that didn't stop her and the others from hurrying to keep pace as he turned a corner, walking away from the ruined entrance into the tower.

"And I'm already in trouble with her, a little more won't make much difference." He pointed at the map, showing them the five dots moving quickly through the school. Sirius was definitely outpacing the others, four feet being better then two for speed. "He's going to get away unless we get in front of him and either stop him or slow him down."

"How do you think we're going to do that?" Susan asked.

His answering grin was tight and devoid of any real humor. "By taking a shortcut," he said, and turned, pulling aside a tapestry that blocked off a small passage and gestured for the others to hurry inside. Once they were all in they found themselves in a small, dimly lit alcove. It was barely ten feet deep with a simple, stone, spiral staircase on their left side and a single torch set into a wall bracket high on their right giving the only illumination.

"Harry, what're we doing here?" Susan wondered, looking around at the undecorated stone passage.

"We need to head Black off," he started, walking up to the wall at the end of the alcove and pressed his hand against a shoulder high brick that was a deep crimson color in contrast to the rest of the grey stones around it. "And this is the fastest way down. Gryffindors charge ahead," he said and with a grinding sound, the staircase turned into a slide even as high, curved walls rose up from the sides.

He grinned at them for a moment. "Well? Come on then."

With that said he jumped onto the slide and disappeared into the shadows below, a loud whoop echoing behind him for a moment before the others shook themselves into action. Neville was the first to leap forward, diving head first down the slide with his wand lit and held in front of him before the girls were able to reach it. Air whistled past Neville's ears and he couldn't hold back a gleeful cry of his own as his body picked up speed, spiraling around and around and down and down into the castle. Behind him he could hear shrieks from the girls echoing off the stone walls of their slide and after nearly a minute and a half he suddenly shot out of the botom of the slide, landing on a cushioning charm and tumbling, for several moments before he came to a stop, dizzy and breathless after the ride.

Looking up he accepted an extended hand as Harry helped haul him to his feet and both quickly stepped over to the slide to help catch the girls as they came flying out of the slide, one after the other. Of the three, somehow, Daphne was the only one not to look a disheveled mess after their trip.

"Come on," Harry called out, moving almost before Daphne had her feet under her. "We're only one corridor over from the Great Hall and about a hundred yards from the Entrance. If we're lucky, we should be ahead of them."

"How often are we lucky?" Susan asked, hurrying after her bond mate.

"Often enough to still be alive?"

No one felt the need to respond to that and simply ran harder, attempting to keep up with Harry. When they rounded the corner, ahead of them past the closed doors leading into the Great Hall they could see the great black dog bounding down the steps of the Grand Staircase and behind him, on the first floor, they could hear the pounding steps of his pursuers.

"Sirius! Stop!" Harry yelled, but the dog didn't stop, merely turned sharply to his left and bounded out of the open entrance onto the castle grounds. Without thinking, Harry continued after him, calling out repeatedly for the fugitive canine to wait.

"Harry, we can't go out there," Hermione gasped out.

Neville growled, low in his throat and plunged out into the night on his friends heels.

They sped across the grass toward the lake with the large black dog blending frighteningly well into the dark outside the castle with only the bright light of the blue moon in the sky above allowing them to follow the canines path across the grounds.

"Dammit, Padfoot, would you _stop_ already?" Harry roared.

Ahead of them, the dog jerked, as if something struck it and it stumbled for a moment before picking up speed again, glancing back over its shoulder in Harry's direction. If anything, he thought the animal looked confused, but then it faced forward again and veered more to the right. Moments later, the huge dog dropped to its belly and slid straight forward, between the roots of the Whomping Willow and dropped out of sight into the tunnel they knew stood there. The whole event passed so quickly that even the notoriously violent tree had no time to react before the animal vanished.

"Dammit!" Harry roared. "Bloody idiot. Why wouldn't he stop?"

"He's scared… Harry," Daphne gasped out, leaning over slightly with her hands on her knees, her breath coming in great heaving gasps.

"And he's confused," Hermione added a minute later.

"Confused and angry. Who is it he wants to kill?" Susan asked.

Harry shrugged and turned, starting slowly back toward the castle and the approaching adults. "Who knows," he muttered. "I just wish he would have let us explain."

They had covered, perhaps, twenty feet before Harry felt it. He'd been honestly enjoying the cool, crisp night air against his sweaty face when cool suddenly became cold, unnaturally cold, and in the back of his mind a screaming voice made itself known.

He froze, his eyes darting wildly around them as a muttered curse escaped him.

"Run," he muttered.

"What?" Daphne asked, looking up from where she had been huddling close to Susan, both of them suffering from the sudden cold that enveloped them.

"RUN!" he roared as the screaming grew louder and louder until the voices filled his head, blotting out everything else. Every horrible memory of his life began to flash before his eyes, his vision swimming in and out of focus as he tried to push his friends toward the castle. A trio of dark figures swooped through the air around them and as they drew closer and closer, circling in like sharks, he could only hear the screams.

With the voice echoing in his ears a bright flash of white light was the last thing he could remember seeing before his eyes slipped closed and the darkness overtook him.

" _Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"_

" _Stand aside, you silly girl . . . stand aside, now. . . ."_

" _Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead —"_

" _Not Harry! Please . . . have mercy . . . have mercy. . . ."_

A shrill voice was laughing, the woman was screaming, and Harry knew no more.

#####

 **Author's Notes the second: Okay, so the little scene with the staircase that turns into a slide? Totally stole that from another fic.**

 **Harry Potter and the Last Chance, written by LeQuin.**

 **It's a great story following the Reptilla28, Don't Fear the Reaper Challenge.**

 **Basic premise behind the challenge is that Harry dies at 17 during the big battle against Voldemort. He wakes up in an office where he meets HIS death, only it turns out this isn't his first time dying, in fact it's the nth time. (number differs by story) But point being, one more unauthorized death before his time and his grim reaper will get fired and they'll both be in trouble. So Harry gets sent back in time, keeping his memories of his last time through to find his soul mate (some Granger girl…) beat the bad guy, get the girl, etc. Great fic. It's romantic, it's hilarious, it's exciting. I really love this one and that whole scene with the staircase was just too perfect for me not to borrow for this specific circumstance.**

 **Look it up, it's totally worth the read.**


	37. Miss Black?

**Author's Notes: Hello boys and girls, The Rotten Writer, here again with another little update just to hopefully round off the term and move things along. Not a big update but there's some moving along of the story and that'll get us to where we need to be to really advance things.**

 **In other news, I have someone helping with Beta work for the first time. So everyone give a big thanks to Rhys Thornbery for his awesome work in helping me out with this. Should make for some more concise and better reading overall.**

 **Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter or anything related to the franchise… whew!**

 **And we're off! Here be Chapter 36 of Soul Scars**

Soul Scars Part Three

The Greengrass Problem

By,

Rtnwriter

Glowing green eyes met steady, vibrant blue with a far less even gaze. Deep blue, ice blue, and cinnamon brown darted back and forth from one still figure to the other, worry clear in all three gazes.

On a bed nearby, Neville snored, quietly.

Harry started to fidget under the weight of his guardian's gaze, while Amelia sat perfectly still, only blinking occasionally. Ten minutes ago, Harry woke to, once again, find himself in the Hospital Wing, the rest of his friends occupying beds of their own with Amelia sitting in a chair next to him. Five minutes after opening his eyes, he found himself embroiled in a silent battle of wills against Amelia.

Finally, after minutes of staring, he was the first to break, and looked down at his hands where they were twisted in his lap.

"Do you understand the position you've put me in?" she asked, eventually, the first words spoken between them since he woke and he shrugged.

"Ummm… not… not really?" he admitted, uneasily.

"If this had been a normal investigation, what you did would, almost certainly, be considered interfering in an Auror investigation, aiding and abetting a known fugitive, with the possibility of you even being charged as an accomplice," she ground out, ignoring his wide eyed sputtering protests. "The only thing saving you right now is that fact that, officially, there was no investigation ongoing, and the fact that I know that Sirius never had a trial in the first place."

"What about the fact that he's probably innocent?" he finally got out.

"Completely unimportant at present, since the lack of a trial makes his innocence or guilt a moot point. That makes the Ministry, technically, guilty of kidnapping, illegal detention and a host of other charges and puts Fudge, in particular, on the hook. His 'kiss on sight' order could become attempted murder charges, if it's shown he knew about the lack of a trial, and, if Malfoy Senior had any part in that decision, he could be looking at attempted line theft."

Harry had been about to speak but closed his mouth, confusion written on his face.

"Narcissa Malfoy was born Narcissa Black, she's Sirius' cousin. If Black dies without an heir, and as a wanted criminal, then it doesn't matter if he's designated an heir in his will, Draco Malfoy will become the next Lord Black as the closest living male relative," she explained. "The Black fortune is said to be extensive, and I see that as plenty of motive for Lucius to try to engineer Sirius' death. Don't you?"

"None of this really matters, though, to you and this mess we find ourselves in. I'm still trying to decide what to do about your blatant obstruction." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment, hoping to relieve some of the headache she'd developed in the last couple of hours. "Do you not trust me, Harry?" she finally asked, a note of hurt entering her voice, and he jerked in his bed as if she'd reached out and slapped him across the cheek.

"No!" he blurted out. "No, I do. You've been awesome, Amy. You've been more honest with me than almost anyone. Really!"

"Then why? Why couldn't you trust me to handle this? Why couldn't you trust that I was doing my best?"

There was no stopping his shameful squirming or the guilt that gnawed at him over that.

"I don't know," he mumbled. "It isn't that I don't trust you, it's just… I… I can't just sit back and _not_ do something. This all affects me, at least indirectly, and Black… he probably has answers to questions I have. I _need_ to talk to him. You're about one of the only adults that's ever been really honest with me, and I know you're trying, but am I supposed to just sit aside, like a good boy, and do nothing if there's something I could be doing to help?"

His expression was pleading, begging her to understand, and understand, she did. It was the same mindset that plagued her, the inability to sit idly. Harry and Amelia were both people that would always prefer action over words. At times, however, the desire for action needed to be curbed, a lesson that had been slow and painful for her, but one she had long ago taken to heart. Sometimes you needed to let the experts handle things.

She let out an explosive sigh and leaned back in her seat, considering him seriously as he squirmed again under her accessing gaze..

"Dammit, kid, you're gonna be the death of me, I swear." She grumbled, studying him carefully for several moments before sighing again. "All right, here's what we're gonna do. I want to see all O's on your end of term tests, EE would be acceptable for your problem subjects so History and Arithmancy, and when you all come home for the Christmas break, you're grounded. And I mean that literally, I'll be holding onto your broom until you come back to school, understand?"

Harry winced, but agreed, thinking that it easily could have been worse.

"There will also be no visiting your friends over the break. They can come to the Boneyard now and then, but consider yourself on House Arrest for the duration of the break."

 _That_ , Harry felt, could be a severe issue, and his eyes shot in Daphne's direction for a moment.

"Uhhh…" he mumbled, to Amelia's confusion.

"Amelia?" Daphne asked. "Could you place a privacy ward or somehow prevent me from being able to hear you? I think Harry and the others have something important to tell you and I can't know about it."

"Ohhh boy… this had better be good," Amelia muttered. A minute later privacy screens had been pulled around Harry's bed, leaving enough room behind them for Amelia, Susan, and Hermione to sit, and she'd hit those screens with all the privacy and silencing charms she thought necessary. "Okay, spill," she ordered after they were all seated.

"Lord Greengrass has decided that he'll be signing a betrothal contract for Daphne to the Malfoy's on Christmas Eve. Draco already told her and I was able to confirm it. I've already set up a meeting for that day as an 'interested party'."

"You're going to make a counteroffer?"

"In a manner of speaking," he said, hedging his way around the question.

"Harry, don't you think it's past time to ask for a little more help?" Hermione cut in. "The three of us, Neville, and Blaise can only do so much. Amy might have some incite to offer."

"I get why you wouldn't just come to me, really," Amelia offered as Harry looked unsure of the suggestion. "No interference in House Business means I wouldn't have been able to directly do anything about the situation. But Hermione is right in that I might at least be able to offer some advice on this plan of yours. It's fairly obvious that you have one."

With occasional input from Susan and Hermione, Harry laid out the plan they'd worked out based on his initial idea, and by the time he'd finished talking, Amelia's eyebrows had disappeared behind her bangs.

"That's… that has got to be one of the more audacious plans I've ever heard of," she admitted after a few minutes. "A mixture of Slytherin cunning and Gryffindor brashness, no doubt."

"But will it work?" Harry asked.

She frowned at that, pinching her bottom lip together as she thought it over. "It might," she finally decided. "Timing and misdirection will be critical. And if it does, you realize you're going to make yourself a powerful enemy, right?"

"An enemy with most of his teeth pulled," Hermione pointed out.

"Greengrass won't be completely without power, though," Amelia disagreed. "And if he figures it out, he'll be absolutely furious. But it's House Business, so I have no legal leg to stand on and try to tell you not to do it, just… be careful. If this big plan of yours _doesn't_ work, though, do you have a backup plan?"

Harry made a face at that but nodded. "I've already had a contract drawn up as a counteroffer to the Malfoy contract. It's got as many escape clauses and fair treatment clauses as I could think of, and even a few that the goblins added in after I explained to Sharpshard what I wanted."

"And the Bride Price? You know you'll have to outbid Malfoy."

He hesitated, but eventually just said it. "One-hundred-thousand Galleons."

"Holy fu-"

"Amy!"

They ignored Hermione's outburst as Susan started coughing, having accidentally inhaled some of her own spit in her surprise and Amelia just stared, dumbstruck, at a confused Harry.

"Uh… is that not enough, do you think?" he asked, concerned.

"Not eno- not enough!? Harry, the highest Bride Price ever paid was fifty-thousand Galleons, and that bride was a princess. The groom was a prince from another country that had been barely avoiding war with the brides. That whole thing made the two countries allies, avoided a bloody, protracted conflict, and that's why it was such a high amount."

"I don't care about the money. I just wanted to make sure that Malfoy didn't offer more than I did. And you're right, if the first plan doesn't work, Greengrass is gonna be pissed, so I figured I'd offer him a price too high for him to be willing to turn down just to spite me."

"Well… okay, I can understand that, but still, one-hundred-"

"That was the combined total interest for the Potter Family Vault last year," Harry interrupted in a cold tone. "It is, literally, no actual loss from the main body of my fortune to offer, and if needed, I'd empty the entire vault if that's what it took. Daphne, Hermione, or Susan, they're all worth it if that's what it came to."

Amelia nodded, slowly. "I didn't mean to imply that Daphne wasn't worth that kind of money, or more," she said. "It was just a surprise."

Harry nodded in acceptance while Amelia got her thoughts back on track.

"Well, as backup plans go, that's a great one. Why not just start with that?"

"Because it benefits Lord Greengrass. If my first plan works, it saves Daphne, and cuts her father off at the knees. If I can do that and avoid giving him any more wealth than he already has, then I'm going to do it. The contract is only in case he finds some way to counter my first plan."

"All right. I take it House Duty is why Daphne is being kept out of the loop?"

"Exactly," Susan told her, recovered from her coughing fit. "We didn't want to put her in a position where she was stuck between loyalties."

"Smart move. Okay, you're under House Arrest, except for any House Business situations that need to be taken care of outside the manor."

Harry nodded again, and leaned back in his bed, relaxing for the first time since he woke.

"Can we bring Daphne back into the conversation now?" Amelia asked and with the kid's agreement, she dispelled the charms and sent the privacy screens packing with a few flicks of her wand. As soon as the charms fell, they could make out a few voices, pitched low in conversation, and once the screens were out of the way they spotted Shacklebolt and Tonks, once again in the young form they first saw her in earlier, sitting around Daphne's bed, talking to her.

"Oi, Potter," Tonks called out when they noticed the screens moving away. "Repeat that name you called me again and I won't be held responsible for how many days you end up spending in here."

Amelia glared at the metamorph. "Auror Junior Grade Tonks, please do not threaten my ward, at least not in my presence," she barked out and Tonks cringed but mumbled an apology. Amelia just rolled her eyes and turned her back on the other witch, who started drawing her finger across her throat while glaring at Harry over the Director's shoulder. "I can see you, Tonks," Amelia said in a long suffering kind of tone. Tonks let out an 'eep' and quickly sat on her hands, her face flaming a completely inhuman red as the kids chuckled quietly over her predicament.

"So, we skipped the usual, 'what happened' part of waking up in here," Harry pointed out once people had rearranged themselves. Hermione moved back to her bed on his right side with Susan taking the bed to his left, Daphne one bed further down on Susan's left. Amelia sat in a chair between Harry's and Hermione's beds, facing toward the two of them while Tonks took a seat at the foot of Susan's with Tonks in between Harry's and Susan's beds, keeping everyone as close together but with the girls in their beds. Amelia had insisted after their brief conference since she was reasonably certain that Madam Pomfrey would skin her alive if she let any of them stray from their beds for long without the Mediwitch's approval.

"Nothing much to tell," Tonks said with a shrug. "You kids were walking toward us when those Dementors swooped in. We started running and got off our Patronuses but all of you were down and out before we got there. No one was seriously hurt, according to Poppy, but she'll probably keep you all in here overnight anyway."

"What's up with the look?" Harry asked, glancing over at Tonks in her young guise.

"That is where I'm going to need you five to help," Amelia admitted with a look toward Neville who was still snoring.

"Should we wake him?"

"No, let him sleep, Shack. These four can fill him in later."

"So what's going on, Amelia?" Hermione asked.

"With Black getting onto the grounds and in the castle I want a presence here that isn't Dementors or people actively trying to kill him. So I'm going to be assigning Shack here as an onsite Auror for security purposes. Black has shown that he's trying to get into the Gryffindor dorms, and I'd already decided to assign Tonks as an undercover. She'll be posing as a third year student and I'm hoping that you all will allow her to join your group of friends."

The four of them exchanged a look and shrugged, nearly in unison.

"Works for us, I guess. So who is she supposed to be?"

Tonks stood and moved a little closer, her hands clasped in front of her and in Harry's eyes, she seemed to undergo a complete shift that momentarily made him forget that he already knew the girl in front of him and felt as if he was suddenly meeting a stranger for the first time. When she spoke, even her voice was different, deeper than her usual speaking tone and without the rough edges that usually colored her vocabulary.

"Hello," she said. "My name is Cedrella Black, it is a pleasure to meet you."

The four bonded blinked, shocked by the change in the woman and glanced at Amelia who simply nodded in their direction.

"Umm… Harry Potter, er, Lord Potter, that is. Head of House Potter and it is a pleasure to meet you as well."

"Daphne Greengrass, Heiress Presumptive of House Greengrass."

"Susan Bones, Heiress Presumptive of House Bones."

"Um… I'm Hermione Granger. Nice to meet you, too, Miss Black."

Cedrella suddenly grinned and her posture shifted again and suddenly they were looking at Tonks in a disguise once more.

"Wotcher, gang," she said, grinning brightly.

"That is just too weird," Harry breathed out. "It's really like you were a completely different person. How did you do that?"

"Did I ever explain to you lot that I'm a metamorphmagus?" Tonks asked and the four of them shook their heads after a few moments thought.

"I've read about them," Hermione admitted. "That means you can change your features, right?"

"Right in one," Tonks told her. "My appearance is somewhat fluid, as is my identity, in a way. I have a base form, sort of, what I would look like without any alterations, but I don't use it much and being a metamorph is something that a person is born as, you can't learn how to be it like an animagus. Since I've spent so much of my life looking like different people, it's pretty easy for me to switch up things like posture, body language, and so on, so I can act and behave as a completely different person. Cedrella Black is an identity with a history and backstory all her own. She has her own mannerisms and ways of speaking so I can most easily separate her from Dora Tonks, that way anyone who might have met me while I was still a student here won't be able to recognize me as Cedrella."

"So what's the story for Cedrella?"

"Well, Sirius Black was a bit of a ladies man when he was younger. The story is that Cedrella is his illegitimate daughter. She's been hidden for years because the Black Family would not take kindly to the idea of her existence and she's being brought to Hogwarts to be under the care and protection of our illustrious Headmaster. With Black on the loose it has been decided that it would be safer for her to be kept here than to risk that Black might come after her otherwise."

Harry frowned, annoyed by that but Amelia shot him a look. "It's just a story, Harry. And once this is all done, Tonks will go back to her usual work and 'Cedrella' will disappear, never to be seen or heard from again. Right now, it's just a convenient excuse to give to people to explain a mid year transfer of a homeschooled student. That doesn't happen very often so people _will_ ask questions. This way, there's a plausible explanation, as far as they know."

"It's just making him out to be the bad guy, again," he muttered and she sighed.

"I know, but it's really the most plausible story we could come up with given the circumstances. There almost no student that would be allowed to transfer in mid year without exceptional reason and something like protection from a potentially deranged murderer is plenty of reason to allow it. The School Board has no idea who she really is and neither does anyone at the Ministry. Only the Headmaster, and us in this room will know, not even the other staff will be told."

Amelia glanced at her watch and then stood, moving her chair away from the bed.

"Look, it's already after midnight and you lot will have a busy day tomorrow. Shack has the map and the passwords," she added the last with a sharp look at all of them, who at least had the grace to look a bit sheepish over the mild rebuke. "He'll be keeping an eye out for Black while he's here and Cedrella will be introduced to the school during Lunch tomorrow, so you'll get a chance to officially meet her, then. Please, keep out of trouble and we'll see each other for the Holiday break at the latest, possibly sooner if anything comes up that we can act on in regards to Black."

There were murmured agreements from the students and Amelia went around hugging each of them before she, Shacklebolt, and Tonks left the Hospital wing, giving Poppy time to bustle over and begin examining them, muttering darkly all the while over people keeping her away from her patients. By the time she'd left they'd each been plied with hot chocolate and a vial of Dreamless Sleep sat on the tables by each of their beds, even one for Neville who slept on through everything.

Susan laid down, doing her best to get comfortable on the thin, narrow mattress, when a voice distracted her.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, and the other girls turned their attention to him. While the three of them had been preparing to sleep, Harry was still sitting up in his bed, his blankets pooled in his lap and his hands clenched into fists atop them.

"I've been thinking," he said, a trickle of apprehension leaking part his Occlumency shields and over their bond. "I know, dangerous prospect, but I have. Ever since yesterday, every spare moment, my brain won't stop yelling at me. I feel like I've been arguing with myself, and losing."

He let out a self deprecating laugh and shook his head, his glowing eyes remaining fixed on the wall across from him.

"What does that say about me? Losing an argument with myself?" he mused, almost thoughtfully before he seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts. "Anyway, I've been thinking… Hermione, did you realize the glamour on your hand faded yesterday in the Room?"

Hermione blinked and glanced down at her hand without thinking, even though they'd reapplied their glamours before the Feast that night.

"No, I never even noticed."

That was the primary reason that the girls still kept themselves covered at all times. Glamours were useful, but tricky things, especially self-cast glamours. They had to be cast over the skin without actually coming into contact, otherwise the magical signatures would cancel each other out, as with the cutting curse that Professor Lupin had cast at his own head in class. They also had to be extremely thin and conforming to the shape of the body, otherwise the illusory effect would be clearly noticeable to an observer and defeat the purpose of their being a glamour in the first place, and, like with many charms, they faded over time and needed to be recast.

"I cast one on you while you girls were talking," he explain. "But it made me think, it reminded me that you share all my scars. I mean… I _knew_ that, obviously, but I hadn't really considered what it meant, before."

The girls exchanged a look at that. What it meant? As one they climbed out of their beds and moved to sit on the edge of Harry's, Hermione on his right with Dap9hne and Susan on his left.

"What do you mean?" Susan asked as gently as she could.

He looked up, finally meeting their eyes, one after another before sighing.

"If there's anyone in the world that deserves to hear about them and how I got them, it's the three of you. You have all these scars, but no idea what happened to cause them. No idea _why_ you have them."

"We know the 'why', Harry," Hermione disagreed with him, shaking her head.

"The 'why' is because your relatives are horrible, awful examples of the human race. There is no other 'why' that matters. Nothing you did, or didn't do, would ever be a reasonable excuse for any one of those scars." Daphne's voice was low and angry when she spoke of the hated Dursleys, but her expression was kind, showing nothing but the care she felt for him.

"You understand why I don't want to talk about them," he said, staring at the blond in their number and Susan leaned away, slightly, so that her body wouldn't block the line of sight between the two of them.

"It was painful, and terrifying, and you've said you feel ashamed of them," Daphne whispered.

He nodded at that before he took a deep breath. "All that's true, but you're you're all correct, and so is Healer Gant. I know that. I know I _should_ let you three know more. But it's not easy. So… if you can agree to do this my way, let me set the when and how… I think I can tell you a little bit, at least."

There was absolutely no hesitation in their agreement. All three of them were more than willing to go at his pace on this, however he needed to be comfortable enough to let them in behind the barriers he'd built to keep everyone around him at arm's length. They were closer to him than anyone in the world, but there was still that wall he'd built, that shield that he kept up that not even they had been able to fully breach. He sat silently for a moment, judging the honesty in their willingness to abide by his wishes before he sat up straighter and slowly shrugged his way out of the unbuttoned striped pajama top that Madam Pomfrey had put on him. She was still concerned over him overheating with his constantly elevated temperature.

Once he had that removed he draped it carefully, deliberately over his left forearm, then let his hands rest on the thin blanket that covered his lap.

"One scar," he said in a trembling voice. "Any of the ones that you can see, right now. Each of you can ask about one scar and I'll tell you how it happened… if I can remember, exactly."

The three girls looked to each other, cautious hope and apprehension filling them as they stood on the threshold of major progress for their bond mate and wondered, which of them should ask first?

Eventually, Hermione cleared her throat and slid a little closer to the head of the bed where she sat on the edge of the mattress, close enough that she could reach out and trace the large, roughly circular, burn scar that covered much of his right shoulder.

"This one," she all but whispered, her voice barely reaching even the girls that sat on the other side of the narrow bed. "I remember… I was seven when this one appeared, and it hurt so much worse than the others. I could feel the heat of it and I've wanted to know how that happened ever since."

Harry winced but nodded, a muscle in his jaw ticking slightly as he gritted his teeth but, slowly, he forced his mouth open and the words dropped from his lips, at first in a trickle that stuttered and stopped before finally becoming a flood as the entire story poured out of him.

"Dudley had decided that he wanted fresh fish and chips at some party that his parents were throwing for him and his friends. Of course, I was made to do all the cooking, even though I wouldn't have been allowed to eat any of it. I was as careful as I could be, but one of the last batches that I pulled out of the fryer was heavier than I meant it to be. I dropped the basket and spilled the fish on the kitchen floor.

"Vernon was screaming at me and Dudley was going on about how the… the freak was ruining his party. Petunia dragged him off to the rest of the kids who were all outside playing in the backyard and she took them all out for ice cream, or something, I don't exactly remember. Anyway, Vernon hit me a few times and eventually he held me down on the floor, grabbed a pot holder and picked up one of the pieces of fish and dropped it back into the fryer.

"While it was in there, he ripped my shirt off and kept yelling and smacking me for a few minutes until he pulled the fish out of the hot oil with a pair of tongs and then he just smashed it against my bare shoulder. He was almost sitting on me so I could hardly move and he used the pot holder to protect his hand and smashed it into my skin, grinding it in until it fell apart. Then, he threw another piece in the fryer and did it again. Four of them, one after another until all the pieces I'd dropped where smashed into a pulp. Then he yelled at me about the mess and made me clean it all up. When I was finished, he threw me in my cupboard and locked me in. I think it was four days before he let me out again, that time..."

#####

Albus Dumbledore stared at the door of his office from his seat behind his desk. He wasn't actually _seeing_ the door, just staring, his blue eyes without their amused twinkle as he gazed at something far away from the cluttered environment that surrounded him.

While his eyes took in nothing, his mind was spinning rapidly, idea after idea coming into existence for a brief moment before it was quickly examined and, eventually, discarded.

"Think, you old fool," he admonished himself, suddenly, speaking for the first time in more than an hour. "You've already failed that young man, spectacularly, it's high time you got something right."

He blinked, his brow furrowing in angry thought as he sought some way to bring Sirius Black's situation to light. He needed some way to get the man a trial that could circumvent the Minister's office. If they attempted to go through official channels, Cornelius would be made aware of it by one of his, most likely many, moles scattered throughout the various Departments. Once that happened, he would do everything possible to block them. So, how could they get around one of the most politically connected individuals in their entire government?

Slowly, a new idea began to form, and Dumbledore carefully studied it. Like a puzzle, he added pieces and took away pieces, mentally turning it this way and that to be examined from every conceivable angle until, in the early hours of the morning,he finally felt that he might have a workable solution. It just required some careful setup.

He sighed, a moment later, reminding himself that his idea also required that they catch Black, alive and unharmed, and at present, he had no idea that they were trying to help him.

"First things first," he muttered. Worrying about catching Black would have to wait. First, he needed at least some sleep, then, tomorrow, he would need to go to the Ministry to begin setting the stage.

#####

The morning of November 1st was strange for Harry. Strange in that, when he woke up, he didn't feel awful. Physically and emotionally he actually felt… okay. The previous year's Halloween, he woke the next day still recovering from Dobby's bludger attack. The year before that? Troll. 'Nuff said, really.

But this year, this year there were Dementors, and he woke the morning after feeling pretty good if he did say so himself. He had to admit, even if in the privacy of his own mind, that unloading about the three scars the girls had asked about probably had more than a small amount to do with how light he felt, as if some measure of a burden, that he'd been carrying around for so long he didn't even notice it anymore, had been removed from his shoulders.

He wondered if he would feel so much better after every time he told them something more about his life with the Dursleys.

Getting in some practice with the Patronus charm that morning wasn't going to happen, unfortunately, since Madam Pomfrey held them all hostage until it was nearly time for lunch before finally letting them go, despite his, many, protests. Together, the five of them made a quick journey to the Tower to shower and change before lunch, only to find their way barred by the strangest portrait of a knight they'd ever seen. Luckily, they'd been supplied with that mornings password and Sir Cadogan, reluctantly, allowed them entry into a Common Room that they were surprised to find completely filled with students.

"Hey!"

They five of them turned to find the twins approaching with their red faced younger brother on their heels and Harry groaned mentally at the thunderous expression on Ron's face.

"What's going on?" Harry asked the twins as they came to a stop in front of them. "Why isn't anyone in class?"

"The whole school-"

"-spent the night in-"

"-the Great Hall."

"Rumour has it that Sirius Black-"

"-attacked the portrait of the Fat Lady."

They blinked at that for a minute, exchanging a few confused looks between them.

"So… why is no one in class?" Neville asked, unsure if there'd been any kind of explanation in the twins delivery.

After exchanging a surprised look they turned back and explained.

"Since it was such a weird night-"

"-the Headmaster gave everyone-"

"-the day off of class. So, most of us have just-"

"-been goofing off, or hanging around."

"Makes, sense, I guess," Susan said with a shrug. "What's with him?" she added, nodding toward a still fuming Ron.

"Your stupid cat ate Scabbers!" he suddenly roared, catching the attention of the entire Common Room as he shoved past his brothers and attempted to get in Hermione's face. Attempted, since Neville and Harry both immediately stepped to the side, standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the bushy haired witch as they leveled matching glares at Ron.

"What are you on about?" Nevilled demanded.

"That beast she calls a cat," Ron bellowed, waving his arms wildly. "I found blood on my pillow and some orange cat hairs and I can't find Scabbers anywhere."

Harry and Neville glanced at each other for a moment.

"Scabbers? You mean your rat?" Harry finally asked.

"Of course I mean my rat, what'd you think I meant?"

Harry shrugged. "No idea, really. I've never paid it much attention but I have heard you go on about how useless and stupid it is. Besides, you don't have actual proof that Crookshanks did anything at all."

"No proof! I found-"

He cut off when a pair of hands landed on each of his shoulders and he was suddenly lifted into the air, a twin on either side of him.

"Sorry about him," one of the twins said, smiling apologetically.

"We'll talk to him and see what we can figure out about this whole thing."

With that, they dragged off their spluttering and protesting brother, both handily ignoring everything out of his mouth with the ease of years of practice.

"It isn't impossible that Crookshanks could have attacked Scabbers," Hermione pointed out quietly after the three of them disappeared up the stairs towards the boys dorms.

"No, it isn't," Daphne agreed, pulling Hermione close to her with one arm around the other girl's shoulders. "But that doesn't give him the right to come screaming at you as if _you_ did it or caused it to happen intentionally. He has the right to be upset, but he needs to learn how to talk to people better."

"And aside from that, there are other cats in this school, as well as Owls. Any of them could have attacked a rat like Scabbers. His only proof was ginger colored cat hairs and we all know how Crookshanks seems to like coming and bugging me at times so we know he's been in the dorm before. That doesn't mean, immediately, that Crooks did it."

Hermione looked a little happier at that and the five of them split up, heading for their own dorms and ignoring anyone that tried to ask where they were all night so they could shower and change. Half an hour later saw them heading for the Great Hall where 'Cedrella' was going to be introduced.

#####

"Thank you, for letting me sit with you," Cedrella said in a soft voice, sitting primly on the bench at the Gryffindor table with her delicate looking hands folded in her lap.

"It's no problem," Harry assured her, reminding himself that this young girl in front of him was actually Tonks. The transformation she underwent when she fully assumed a role was nothing short of amazing and he couldn't help but wonder how long it had taken her to develop such a skill. Her morphing abilities were a part of her, but acting? That was something she had to learn and cultivate and spoke of unknowable hours of practice that he found somewhat awe-inspiring.

"We are always happy to welcome a new member of our House," Neville added from his seat beside Cedrella.

They ate and talked quietly, Hannah and Tracey sitting to Neville's right with Cedrella on his left while they all discussed the castle, their classes, and other, mostly safe topics one uses when meeting someone new for the first time. Harry couldn't help but notice the stares being directed toward the new girl, though. Some were openly curious while others seemed hostile. These stares weren't from any one table or House, either. All four Houses seemed to have a fair mixture of reactions but one recurring theme was that she was definitely the subject of quite a lot of interest.

Concerns over Sirius aside, Harry question whether claiming to be related to the man was really the best idea, and commented on that later when they showed her the Room of Requirement, which changed into a new, comfortable sitting room. With their number now six, the corner of the Common Room by the fire just wasn't big enough.

Hannah and Tracey had claimed a need to return to their own dormitories and none of them felt like arguing, since they wanted to get Tonks alone to talk to her.

"It might seem like it'd just draw attention, but it's kind of like hiding in plain sight," Tonks explained after she'd gotten over her surprise at the Room itself. "It's a reasonably believable story. Most people won't think twice about it and while I'll be a curiosity for a while, eventually most people will move on and I'll just be another face in the crowd. Only people like you, Harry, can't seem to slip back into anonymity when you want to," she added the last with a smirk in his direction.

#####

Harry had grumbled, loudly, about Tonks commentary on his own continued fame, and even more so when over the next few weeks were explanation was proven true. At first there was quite a bit of interest, and several children of old Houses came by to talk to her, either to insult, feel her out, or to attempt to get closer to her, seeing her as a link to the powerful and still well known House of Black. She handled all comers with ease and, eventually, most people just started to ignore her as any other student.

Blaise had stared, just short of being rude when he met her, while Luna stared far past the point where it was rude. Cedrella had responded by staring right back until Luna suddenly smiled and hugged her saying, "I think pink is a good color for you."

After that Luna accepted her presence as only Luna was capable of and Cedrella frequently found herself dragged into discussion over nargles and blimering humdingers, as if these were common conversations to have.

As the weeks wore on and November turned into December friction continued to grow in the Tower as Ron continually took every chance to make snarky comments about Crookshanks eating his rat. On more than one occasion Harry came within a hair's breadth of punching the boy again but he was always stopped, either by the girls, or by Neville. They started spending less and less time in the Tower and more time in the Room, just to avoid the irritating red head.

Tonk's showed herself to be an excellent friend when it came to their schoolwork, something that the rest of the bond mates found themselves extremely grateful for as Hermione was able to distract herself from Ron's hurtful commentary by pumping the former Hufflepuff for everything she could get on their OWL and NEWT exams. She helped them go over their spells for class and even started assisting in their morning and evening spell practice. She'd been most intrigued over Harry's wandless abilities, and tried to help him their as much as she could.

With Quidditch practice, classes, homework, training in the mornings and for an hour in the evenings, his Friday meetings with Healer Gant, their standard Sunday appointment with Madam Pomfrey, that had shown no changes in their bond since the end of the previous year, and their Saturday practice with Moony on the Patronus Charm, it was with no small amount of surprise that Harry realized the next day they would be leaving to head home for the Christmas Holidays. He had been so busy that the days had just slipped continually past him and it bothered him that in the intervening month and a half since Halloween there had been no further word about Sirius.

"I don't get it," he complained the night before they were set to go home. "Where the hell is he?"

"No idea, but it's really not your concern, Harry," Tonks said, still in her guise as Cedrella since they were all sitting in the Common Room that night instead of the Room of Requirement. She'd taken to assuming her normal form when they were in the other Room since it was just them and it was considerably more comfortable for her than compacting her larger and more developed body into a thirteen-year-old frame. "Kingsley has been keeping me posted and we've been taking turns with the map. We can't watch it every moment of the day but he takes the day shift and I watch it as much as I can at nights. Hasn't been even a blip of Sirius Black on that thing since Halloween and until we catch sight of him again, there's not a lot to be done."

"Come on," Susan said, cutting into Harry's dark mutterings. "It's getting late and we should get to bed."

Harry and Neville both groaned at that and scowled irritably.

"I think Nev and I will probably just stay down here for a while," he muttered.

"Ron still being difficult?"

"If anything, he's gotten worse," Neville, almost, smarled. "It's just not worth being anywhere near him when he's conscious. We'll probably just wait till it's late enough that we can be sure he's asleep before we head up."

Tonks and the girls wished them good night and headed up to the dorm while the boys turned their attention to the fire, each lost in their own thoughts as soon as the girls were gone, leaving them alone in the Common Room, save for a few upper year students who were studying or reading at a few of the other tables scattered about.

Time passed, and eventually, the room emptied. Once the last Seventh Year had made her way up to her own dorm room, Neville turned to Harry. "Three days," he said. Tomorrow is the 21st. Are you sure you're ready?"

Harry didn't need to ask what Neville was talking about. He knew immediately and nodded.

"I've been practicing. I'm as positive as I can be that I've got everything down. I know what I need to do and what I need to say. I just hope it works. You're certain that Daphne will be there?"

It was Neville's turn to nod. "I asked her about it last week. Her Father wrote her and let her know he was expecting her to be there. That's just further confirmation that Lord Greengrass intends to sign the contract that day. Daphne's presence isn't required throughout any other part of the negotiation process until it comes time to sign."

Harry nodded again, but had nothing more to say and, finally, Neville could no longer fight off a jaw cracking yawn.

"You should get some sleep, Nev," Harry told him, a small smile on his face. "You don't need to sit up with me."

"Are you sure? I don't mind-"

"It's fine, Nev. I'll probably be up in a little while too. I'm just gonna enjoy the peace and quiet for a little longer."

Neville considered his friend for a moment, weighing his options before he shook his head and settled back in his chair.

"Nope. You want peace and quiet, I can sit here and enjoy it with you, I'm not just gonna leave you alone. I'll go if you want me to, but not if you think just you're holding me up or anything. I'm perfectly fine sitting here, quietly."

Harry didn't answer and the two of them just sat, watching the fire die down long into the night. When the girls came down the next morning, it was to find both boys sound asleep in their respective chairs before a cold fireplace.


	38. Plan A

**Authors Note: Rotten Writer here again ladies and gent's. Right now as I type this it is May 24th of 2018 in jolly old, I mean sunny California. I wanted to get this chapter up yesterday, but I wasn't able to finish it in time. Why yesterday, you ask? At least, I hope someone wondered. Well, yesterday, May 23rd, marks the one year anniversary of when the first chapter of this little fic was published. A little fic that has grown into something enormous.**

 **I was struck the other day realizing it's already been an entire YEAR since I started this thing and I couldn't believe it. How did a whole year pass me by so quickly? *shakes head* So anyway, here's a little anniversary gift to everyone, a day late. We finally get to see Harry's big plan for dealing with Lord Greengrass and a hint of dark things to come.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The only thing that belongs to me would be the original aspects of this plot and story and.**

 **Here comes Chapter 37 of Soul Scars!**

Soul Scars Part Three

The Greengrass Problem

by,

Rtnwriter

When she left her friends and her bond mates at the platform, Daphne had presented a strong front, one she'd kept up since even before they'd boarded the train at Hogsmeade Station. She smiled softly, making sure not to smile too wide or laugh too much or too loudly. Any deviation from her usual mannerisms would have immediately told them that she was a bundle of strained nerves. She had only felt worse as the day wore on and they got closer and closer to London, born by a powerful, enchanted steam engine.

As it was, she had barely been able to hug them as they parte for their separate homes without breaking down into tears but, somehow, she managed. She had wondered, though, when Harry looked into her eyes and told her that he would see her soon. What did that mean? He knew that, when the contract was signed, she wouldn't be able to spend any time with them anymore.

Or… was Harry actually going to make a counteroffer for her hand? That was the only way that she would be free of the Malfoys. The only option to avoid a life as a plaything to the disgusting excuse of a wizard that was Draco Malfoy. She suppressed a shudder as, involuntarily, some of what Draco had threatened would happen to her rose to the forefront of her mind.

She rolled over in her bed and forced the memories aside the best she could. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. Tomorrow her life would be changed, completely. She wasn't positive _how_ it would change, but she hoped, prayed, that her bond mates would come through for her.

A weight settled on the edge of her bed and she opened her eyes to find her mother looking at her, a heavy concern in the older witch's eyes and expression. Daphne tried to be calm. She tried to project confidence, as she'd been taught. She didn't want her mother to see how scared and worried she was. She failed completely.

Without a word spoken between them, Danyella Greengrass laid down beside her eldest daughter and wrapped one arm around the girl, holding her tightly as she trembled in the face of an uncertain future.

#####

Cinnamon colored eyes narrowed, staring, almost glaring angrily at a most vexing and implacable foe. The battle had been long, and fierce, a protracted conflict spanning years, in fact. At times, she held the upper hand. Other times, the enemy proved to be too much and she had to call in reinforcements.

She was beginning to believe that such a time had come, once again.

"How goes the war?"

She turned, looking to her mother, who stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the door jamb, her arms folded over her breasts.

"Not well. Enemy forces have almost pushed us into retreat. I'm thinking it just might be time to call in support."

Emma straightened up and stepped into the room, leaning forward to study the battlefield with a critical eye.

"Are we talking the Christmas Conflict of '88? Or is this on par with the Magical Incursion of '91?" Emma asked, drawing a broad grin from her daughter.

"Definitely as bad as '91," she said, laughing lightly.

"Well, call a cease fire, for now, and we'll talk to your father when he gets home from work."

Hermione turned back and glared at her bookcases again for a few moments before deciding that her mother was right. The war for enough shelf space would continue another time. With a sigh, she stacked the dozen or so books that she'd spent the last hour trying to make room for on her shelves off to the side and stood, stretching out some of the kinks earned from sitting on the carpet for so long.

"Did you need me for something, mum?" she asked.

"Well… yes, and no," Emma said in a playful tone of voice that instantly had the fine hairs on the back of Hermione's neck rising even as an alarm started blaring in the back of her mind.

That was the tone of voice that her mother always used just before she started mercilessly teasing someone, usually her chosen victim was Hermione, herself.

"Mum?"

"What?" The tone of voice was all sweetness and innocence as she moved over and sat on Hermione's bed.

"What do you want, mum?" Hermione asked, her eyes narrowed suspiciously at the woman that had given birth to her and helped to raise her.

"Can't a woman just want to talk and catch up with her daughter without any ulterior motives?"

"A woman? Yes. You? No." Hermione's delivery was perfectly dry and deadpan but she rolled her eyes and moved over to sit on the bed as well.

Emma grinned and bounced excitedly in place on the soft mattress. "So, tell me everything that you left out of your letters."

Hermione couldn't but get swept up in Emma's enthusiasm, despite feeling that she was just waiting for the other shoe to drop, and the two spent the next couple of hours talking as Hermione gave a more detailed account of the events that had so far taken place over the term as well going over their classes and her extra courses that most of her other friends weren't taking.

"I still say you shouldn't have bothered with Divination and Muggle Studies," Emma told her. "They just sound dodgy to me."

Hermione grimaced. "Well…" She trailed off as she tried to come up with some redeeming qualities for either of the classes, but came up blank. "To be honest, those two courses are part of the 'problem' list that Harry took to discuss with Professor Dumbledore the week before we left. We asked around the school, too, and got a hundred different students to fill out a questionnaire about what kind of changes they'd like to see in the school.

"I also drafted a letter for him that he sent to the IBE, requesting a copy of international education standards. He haven't heard back from them yet, but we're still optimistic."

"IBE?"

"The International Board of Education."

"And all this goes back to the promise that Harry made to that hat last year, right?"

Hermione nodded. "He promised to work to fix the things that are wrong with the school. Harry and the Headmaster have had three meetings already this term to discuss what problems the students have, how the school might go about trying to address some of them, and as soon as I have the information from the IBE, I'll be comparing it to the seven year curriculum at Hogwarts. I'm curious to find out if our school really is the 'premier school of magic' that it's said to be."

"Well, it sounds like you guys have quite a project ahead of you." She leaned forward, far more eagerly and grinned at her daughter. "How are things going with Daphne and Susan?"

The alarm was blaring in the back of her mind again and Hermione groaned, flopping down on her back in her bed to stare up at the ceiling. She guessed it was a miracle the woman had lasted as long as she had before starting in with the interrogation. After the package she'd sent at the start of November, Hermione had honestly expected the third degree right after her parents picked her up from the station two days previously.

"What do you mean?" she groaned, hoping to avoid the inevitable embarrassment that appeared to be barreling toward her. "Things are fine. We're worried about this situation with Daphne's father, but Harry has a pretty solid plan, and a backup. I'm as confident as we can be that everything should work out fine." She grabbed one of her pillows and pulled it over her face.

"Move much beyond snogging, yet?"

"Mother!" Hermione yanked the pillow away and stared, aghast at her, completely unrepentant, mother.

"What? I'm not stupid, Hermione. Your father and I had a few facts of this bond explained to us back during your first Christmas break from school, and Amelia was pretty certain that exactly this sort of thing would happen considering the connection with this bond of yours."

"And you really don't have any problem with this?" Hermione hesitantly asked. This was one aspect of the bond she'd never discussed with her parents. The idea of being in a multiple relationship, whether she was with the other girls or not was a topic she'd avoided like the plague since they discovered that it was more than just a two person bond. As open and understanding as her parents could be, she really wasn't sure how they might react to the entire situation. "I've just been trying to wrap my head around the idea of eventually sharing a husband, now this."

"Oh, honey… did you not _read_ the letter I sent you?"

"Of course I read it," Hermione blurted out, a little offended that her mother seemed to think she might not have read a letter from her family.

"But you didn't believe it?" Emma moved forward and Pulled her daughter up and into her arms, despite the girl's protests until she was sitting up against the wall at the head of the bed with her daughter held against her side under one of her arms. "Honey, your father and I love you. This situation… well it's definitely taking some getting used to, and no, I can't say that we're entirely comfortable with all of it. But none of it is your fault or any of the others and we'll figure it out as we go. The multiple relationship is the biggest hurdle, really, but we've had time to get used to that idea. And you know how we feel about same sex couples. Again, as long as everyone is happy, it's none of our business."

"If it's none of your business then why are you asking me?" Hermione muttered and then squeaked when her mother lightly pinched her side.

"You're my daughter, that makes it my business, up to a point."

Hermione sighed and bit her bottom lip, worrying it with her teeth for several moments before she let herself settled in more comfortably.

"Nothing has happened, really, since that night when Daphne kissed me," she whispered.

Emma blinked in surprise at that and leaned away, just slightly, so she could look down at her daughter.

"Why not?" she asked, confusion clearly evident in her tone.

"I still don't know what to think about the whole thing," she admitted. "I'm no sure if I'm really attracted to Daphne, or Susan. And if I find that I am, is that really me? What if the bond changed me, somehow, and without it I would never have even entertained the thought of being with another woman." Hermione sat up, her fingers twining together as she found herself with nothing to do with her hands but too full of nervous energy to just sit and do nothing at all.

"I think, first, you need to decide if you're actually attracted to them at all," Emma told her, calmly. "Maybe you don't find other women, in general, attractive, but what about Daphne and Susan, specifically?"

Hermione considered that, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip. It wasn't as if this was a new question, really. She'd asked it of herself dozens of times already, but was no closer to a real answer than she was the day after Daphne kissed her.

"I don't know," she finally said in a plaintive tone of voice. "I just… sometimes I think, maybe? And then I can't decide if that's really _me_ or not and I'm right back where I started. I don't want to drag this out longer and longer and leave Daphne and Susan wondering but I don't want to just decide, one way or the other, without knowing for sure, either."

Emma considered her distraught and confused daughter for several moments before she spoke.

"Do me a favor," she said. "Close your eyes."

Hermione gave her mother a questioning look but knew the woman well and sighed, doing as she was told without complaint or argument.

"Now, just bear with me. Think about Daphne. Think about the night she kissed you. Not the kiss itself, yet, just everything else. What was going on?"

"We were arguing. Susan wanted us to be more open with each other but Daphne was upset because we were hiding something from her."

"How did you feel?"

Hermione's brow furrowed as she thought, still keeping her eyes closed and Emma moved closer, sitting so that their knees were touching, both of them with their legs crossed beneath them.

"Angry, and hurt, and worried about her. Daphne was so scared, she was frantic about something, we didn't know what at the time. The betrothal issue was also bothering us and Malfoy had apparently been telling her some of the clauses in the contract his dad intends to sign tomorrow. It wasn't anything good so she was a mess even before we started arguing, really."

Emma arched a brow but made a mental note to revisit the idea of contracts, later, and moved on. "So if she was upset with you, if she was scared and angry anyway, why did she kiss you? What made her decide that was the time?"

"She said she thought it might be her only chance. She was worried that we'd hate her or be disgusted to find she was attracted to women. If the contract is signed, Malfoy could make her stay away from us completely after that, so she decided to take the chance to get something that she wanted before her wants might not matter anymore."

"So she kisses you. Think about that now. How did it feel? How did it make _you_ feel? Not just the physical but emotionally too."

"It… she…" Hermione trailed off, her eyes coming open, but her focus was miles away. "Soft," she muttered, distractedly. "Her lips were so soft, and her hands on my face and neck. At first I was surprised, the whole thing was unexpected and I just froze. I didn't want to push her away, I knew that would hurt her and I'd just decided t-to kiss her back when she pulled away and ran off in a panic."

"Why kiss her back?" Emma asked, carefully taking her daughters hands in her own.

"I didn't want to hurt her. Daphne has had such a hard life, if I did nothing, or rejected her, she would have been terribly hurt."

"You love her, and you want to make her happy."

"Yes… wait, no!" Hermione blinked rapidly and her eyes came into focus on Emma's face. She attempted to snatch her hands away, but her mother held on tightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to let the girl know she wasn't letting go without a fight.

"Stop, and listen, hon," she murmured, softly. "Don't react, listen."

Hermione glared at her mother but stilled, no longer trying to pull her hands away and Emma's grip loosened slightly.

"You love her, I can see it. You worry about her happiness. You worry about hurting her. You worry about Harry and you worry about Susan. You love them. You can't possibly try to deny that. Maybe not to the level people think of when they consider being in a romantic love, but you still love them, and that's only going to grow stronger. You four are so close there's no escaping that, even if you wanted to," she added the last after Hermione looked offended at the idea of 'escaping' her bond mates.

"When did you learn so much about magic and bonds?" Hermione asked, a little surly.

"It's got nothing to do with magic or bonds, hon. It's basic psychology. You're so close. Forming attachments is inevitable with that kind of closeness, and the fact that you're technically inside each others heads only compounds the issue. You can feel each others emotions. You're more attuned to each other than it's possible for anyone else to be"

Hermione chewed on her lip again, turning that thought over and over in her mind.

"While you're thinking about that… what happened to the box I sent you?"

Hermione glared at her mother, her face instantly flushing a deep red.

"Oh, _that_!" she almost snapped. "Whatever possessed you to send me a box like that?"

Emma did her best not to giggle but there was no way in hell she was going to be able to suppress the smirk that twisted her lips. "What?" she said as innocently as she could. "You were wondering so I thought it might be beneficial to to some reading and just… see what you thought."

Hermione groaned and buried her face in her hands as Emma let go and started chuckling quietly at her daughters reaction.

In a fit of irritation, Hermione grabbed one of the pillows off of her bed and started swinging wildly for a few moments as laughter rang through the house. When the impromptu pummeling was over, the two of them were lying sprawled across the bed, both pillows had ended up on the floor and somehow most of the comforter had followed, leaving them panting and sweaty on the top sheet.

Finally, Emma turned to her daughter. "All joking aside, hon, really, is it so important if you would have been attracted to them without the bond that you all share? If you're all happy with each other, does it _really_ matter, as long as you weren't forced?"

"But if we were changed to accept this?"

"If the three of you each had a piece of Harry's soul back in '81… wouldn't that mean your souls were just as compatible with each other, but you just didn't have a chance to bond with the other girls until you touched at the sorting? Everything you've mentioned about soul mates and bonds is that the souls and magic of the people involved were compatible and in tune in the first place, _before_ they bonded."

Silence fell and Hermione stared, blankly, at her mother for several minutes as she attempted to come to grips with that new angle of considering their situation.

"And hon?" Emma asked, softly, drawing Hermione's attention back to her. "Aside from everything else, aside from all the worries and concerns and issues that you're mind can conjure up and all the arguments for or against, I think most importantly you need to ask yourself one question that you seem to have avoided."

"What?" she asked, curiously.

"You said what you felt when Daphne kissed you. But I don't think you've asked yourself, really, did you like it?"

There was no reaction at first, as Hermione let her eyes slip closed, thinking back to that night. Slowly, a light pink dusted her cheeks, and her lips turned up into a soft smile.

#####

"Pacing like a caged animal isn't going to make things any better, you know?" Susan spoke, her deep blue gaze following the nervously pacing figure of her favorite bushy haired bookworm as Hermione moved back and forth before the fire in the Parlor at the Boneyard. Neville, Luna, Tracey, Hannah, and Blaise simply observed the interaction, wondering at what point the bushy haired witch was likely to spontaneously combust with nervous energy.

It was early in the afternoon of December 24th, and Harry and Amelia had left hours earlier to the meeting Harry'd arranged with Lord Greengrass. They had had nothing to do but wait since then for any word over how the meeting went and Hermione's patience was rapidly running out even as Susan sat lightly in her seat, her hands lightly holding a book in her lap and a steaming cup of tea resting on the small end table next to her end of the sofa. Reaching over she patted the cushion next to her and gestured for Hermione to join her.

"Come sit down and try, _try_ to relax, at least a little. You're working yourself into a tizzy."

"I'm just worried," Hermione moaned, dropping gracelessly into the spot next to Susan and, without thinking, she leaned over, resting her head on her bond mate's shoulder. "I hate not knowing what's going on," she muttered, morosely.

"I know, love," Susan responded, lifting one hand to stroke Hermione's cheek. "I know. I hate it too. You just need to try to distract yourself with something."

"I can't concentrate," Hermione admitted in a small voice, showing just how concerned she was. "I've tried reading, or working ahead for class, even trying to add to our list of spells for our independent practice and nothing holds my attention for more than a few moments."

"Look, they left at half past eleven, right?" Susan tried and Hermione nodded against her shoulder. "It's just barely past two o'clock, now, so they've been gone for a little over two and a half hours. That's not too long, really, when dealing with something as potentially convoluted, and you know if the Malfoy's are present Harry's going to want to address Draco's attack during that Care of magical Creatures class with Malfoy Senior, since the man _still_ hasn't seen fit to actually respond to Harry's letter regarding it."

"So we should just be patient, they'll be done soon?"

"And everything will work out, I'm sure of it." Susan turned and pressed a kiss to the crown of Hermione's head, smiling when she felt the other girl let out an almost unnoticeable sigh and lean a little more against her.

"It's a solid plan, Hermione," Blaise attempted to reassure her with Neville and Tracey nodding along. "Even if the initial plan doesn't work, the contract offer Harry had drawn up should be more than enough to convince Lord Greengrass to sign."

Hermione hummed noncommittally at that, but chose not to try to argue.

They talked quietly for a time, Susan's book forgotten on the table by her, now, cold cup of tea. Just before the clock showed three in the afternoon a chime rang through the house as the Floo flared up and both girls sat up, their bodies tensing in anticipation. The rest of their friends, while less tense, were just as alert and aware, looking over when Dan and Emma walked into the room, their attention also fixed on the chime that had echoed throughout the halls.

"That's one," Hermione whispered.

"Probably Harry, since you know Auntie Amelia always wants to be the last one through instead of leaving one of us alone at the Cauldron."

A second chime rang through the manor and they both stood, muscles tensing even further.

"Two," Susan muttered, her eyes narrowed toward the archway that would lead them most directly to the Floo Access Room.

"If there's another one…"

A third chime rang out and both girls took off like a shot, feet pounding against the wooden floor beneath them as they sprinted through the house, Hermione's parents and the rest of their friends following close behind. They arrived, Hermione in the lead, to find a laughing Amelia Bones helping a loudly grumbling Harry Potter off of the ground where he'd been deposited after his trip through the Floo and, standing behind them, a dazed looking Daphne Greengrass, tear tracks staining her cheeks through the fine soot that clung to her from her trip through the Floo.

"DAPHNE!"

That was the only warning anyone got before a bushy haired missile slammed into the slight blond, sending both tumbling to the ground in a heap of tangled limbs as Hermione attempted to squeeze the life out of the girl.

Amelia grinned as she let her wand, which she'd drawn when Hermione's shout startled her, shoot back up her sleeve into her holster and Harry slowly lowered the hand that he'd instinctively raised, once he realized that, though Daphne _was_ being attacked, she wasn't in any actual danger.

For her part, Daphne's daze was broken by the dual impacts of a body against hers, then both of their bodies against the ground and she shook her head, dimly aware of sobbing and barely intelligible babbled words that were being muffled against her shoulder. The cloud of curly brown hair that obscured her vision easily told her the identity of her assailant and she laughed, lightly, wrapping her arms around her bond mate and squeezing back, just as strongly.

"It worked," she muttered into the other girls ear. "Dammit if that ridiculous plan didn't work."

"I was so worried about you," Hermione whispered, turning her head so the blond would be able to hear her.

"As long as I have people like you, Susan, and Harry worrying about me, I don't think there's anything in the world that could really hurt me. Not anymore."

"Mione? You gonna let anyone else hug her?" Susan asked of the heap on the floor, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Hermione let out a quiet squeak and scrambled to untangle herself from Daphne and get up off the floor, her face flushing brilliantly, to which no one commented. Susan helped Daphne to her feet and promptly pulled her into a strong hug, holding the other girl tightly for several long moments.

"I'm so glad it worked," she muttered, happier than she'd felt in some time with this weight lifted from their shoulders. "I had every confidence, but I was still worried something might go wrong."

"From what I can tell, it all went perfectly."

Susan glanced around, seeing most of the group was otherwise occupied and tilted her head, bringing her lips close to Daphne's ear. "I really can't wait to get you alone and give you a _proper_ congratulations," she whispered and felt the slightest tremor run through the other girls body as her warm breath washed across her skin.

"I look forward to it," Daphne whispered back, tightening her grip on Susans body for a moment before they separated.

"So?" Hermione demanded, anxiously shifting her weight back and forth from one foot to the other. "Did it work? Or did you have to go to Plan B?"

"Plan A went off without a hitch," Harry told her, grinning broadly, his eyes glowing bright enough to be easily visible even in the brightly lit room. "Greengrass didn't know what hit him and that slimy little plonker, Malfoy, managed to get himself banned from Gringotts for at least a year in the bargain."

Hermione and Susan both squealed happily and dragged Harry and Daphne into another hug, the four of them tangled so tightly together that the only way the rest of them were able to tell where one teen ended and another began was by way of the four different colors of hair that topped their heads.

It was Dan's deep laughter that caught their attention and broke up the hug. "Well?" he asked. "Let's go sit and you can tell us all about it."

"Let's do this in the kitchen," Amelia decided as she took in the number of people filing out of the room. "Harry, Daphne, and I missed lunch, and I don't know about them, but I'm starved."

That suggestion met with a resounding approval from the large group, punctuated by Harry's stomach growling, loudly, and it was a happy, laughing crowd that entered the kitchen. Binky was absolutely delighted to have so many guests to serve and before they all even entered the room the table had been expanded with enough chairs appearing for everyone to sit comfortably as the little elf kicked into gear with barely a wobble.

Drinks and snacks appeared on the table to tide the group over until the meal was prepared and, once everyone was seated and had a drink or a plate in hand, eleven pairs of eyes turned, expectantly, toward Harry where he was seated across the corner of the table from Amelia.

"Why's everyone always stare at me?" he asked, hoping to put someone else in the spotlight, for a change.

"You've had so much practice telling stories that the rest of us weren't present for or missed out on, somehow, over the last couple of years," Neville pointed out. "Who else would tell it?"

"Plus, it _was_ your plan," Blaise pointed out and Harry glared at him.

"Traitor," he growled, causing the slytherin to simply smile and tilt the neck of his bottle of butterbeer in Harry's direction.

Harry rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine," he grumbled, and, with the rest of the table encouraging him, he started explaining the events of the day.

#####

"Merlin's bloody beard!" Harry yelped as he came sliding out of the Floo and into the Leaky Cauldron. "I swear, one of these days I am going to figure that out," he grumbled and let Amelia help him to his feet, her wand already moving to banish the soot from his robes.

"Come on," she said, clearly amused by his continuing battled with Floo travel, and she helped him straighten his robes, brushing down the soft material for a moment before she gave him a warm smile and led him over to the entrance into Diagon Alley.

Before she opened it, Amelia shot Harry a quick look. He took a moment, and at least one deep breath before he nodded to her and she tapped the bricks with her wand. The instant the archway appeared, Harry lifted his head, squared his shoulders, and strode confidently past Amy and into the Alley.

As he walked, with Amelia trailing behind him by a pace, a hush swept through the crowd of holiday shoppers. He wasn't an unknown sight around the Alley, having visited numerous times in the past, both to collect school supplies and just to shop. As a well known figure in the wizarding world he was usually very visible, despite his typical attempts to hide or avoid notice. He wasn't hiding, this time. He walked confidently, his eyes fixed straight ahead and gleaming brightly. The sword of Gryffindor, belted over his robes hung from his left hip, his hand resting on the hilt as he walked. The finely cut, and clearly expensive robes with the Potter Crest embroidered over the left breast left no mystery as to just who he was.

He wasn't Harry Potter, ward of Amelia Bones and Third Year Hogwarts Student. He was Lord Harry James Potter, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, and he was on a mission. Conversations died as he passed and every eye followed his progress through the alley and up the steps leading into Gringotts. On his chest, below his Family Crest, two gleaming medals shone in the wan sunlight. The gold medallion that marked him as a Friend to the Goblin Nation, and a second medallion, cast in platinum that had been given to him before they'd returned to school for that year. After his battle with the Basilisk, and his deal with Gringotts regarding the remains, he had been named a Blooded Warrior, and the level of respect he carried amongst the Nation had shot up accordingly.

He was only happy they'd done so without the pomp and ceremony that had accompanied his Order of Merlin award from the Ministry. _That_ had been a bloody nightmare, in his humble opinion.

The guards stationed at the entrance into the bank bowed low as he passed and he simply nodded his head, respectfully, not breaking stride in the slightest as he entered the bank and moved immediately to the nearest free teller.

"Good morning, Teller," he said, bowing to the goblin. "I pray your enemies blood stains your blades."

"And may their gold fill your vault, young Lord," the goblin responded. "How may Gringotts assist you today, Warrior Potter?"

A smattering of murmurs swept through the lobby as he was addressed and Harry sighed, internally, as wizards and witches started muttering to each other, most in plain view, with absolutely no regard for subtlety or tact.

"I have a meeting with Accounts Manager Sharpshard for 11:45," he said and the goblin nodded, gesturing to another who scurried off to carry the message.

"If you'll please wait, Assistant Account Manager Griphook should be here momentarily."

"Thank you."

Harry and Amelia both bowed, an action that was returned by the teller, before they straightened and moved over to the seats by the wall to wait.

"You're doing great, Harry," Amelia muttered in his ear when they sat and he fought the urge to grimace in distaste.

"I hate this," he muttered back. "This… parading around like a bloody ponce. It's all a damn show."

"It is, but it's necessary. The upper levels of society are expected to behave and to carry themselves in a certain way. The Lord of a House like yours, even more so. You're doing very well, and managing without the arrogance and smugness of some other members of our society."

He growled, low in his throat, but before he could respond Griphook walked over, neatly dressed in an impeccably tailored three piece suit and Harry rose to meet him, bowing low and greeting his friend carefully.

"You're looking good, Griphook," Harry commented after they were led into the tunnels behind the counter. "Things must be going well with my accounts."

"Very well, Warrior Potter," Griphook said with a grin. "Your suggestion to look into muggle businesses for investments has resulted in a surprisingly fast return and your accounts are earning gold hand over fist, as they say."

"You're taking your five percent, right?" Harry asked and Griphook shot him a look.

"The standard is three percent for an Assistant Manager and five for a manager, Warrior Potter."

Harry shook his head and sighed. "That won't do at all," he said. "And it's still Harry to you, Griphook."

"Of course it is, Warrior Potter."

Amelia wasn't certain, but she thought that Griphook might have grinned when Harry growled under his breath at the continued form of address.

When they were led into Sharpshard's office, Harry barely waited for the greetings to be over with before he started off with his issue. "Mister Sharpshard, I'm led to understand that you take five percent for managing my accounts and that Griphook here receives three percent. Is this true?"

Sharpshard arched a bushy brow at the slight wizard, confusion etched into the lines and wrinkles of his ancient face. "It is, Warrior Potter. That is standard for all Managers and Assistant Managers."

"Well I don't care for that much. I insist that you take seven percent and that Griphook receives five percent for himself."

Both goblins froze, shocked for a moment before Sharpshard seemed to shake himself out of his stupor and cast an appraising look over Harry.

"May I ask why you would do this?"

"Simple. The more money the two of you stand to earn, the harder you're likely to work at it. And considering how much you both do, since I don't do much of any of it myself, you've more than earned it, in my opinion."

Sharpshard laughed, a deep grating thing, and shook his head before he made a note on a piece of parchment before turning it around and handing it over to Harry.

"If you could sign this, Warrior Potter, and pressed your rings crest to the parchment, I will make sure the adjustments are made."

Quickly, Harry read over the note, something Sharpshard was pleased to see, before he signed it and pressed his ring to the parchment. The whole thing glowed with a soft white light a moment later and when he handed it back to Sharpshard, the goblin tapped it with a claw and it vanished.

"I swear, every time you come in here I find something new to be surprised by. You'd think I'd have learned to expect these kinds of things from you by now, Warrior Potter."

"Okay, seriously, who do I have to kill to get you people to call me Harry?" he asked, sarcastically, a grin twisting his mouth as Amelia hid a smile behind her hand.

"I am not entirely certain, Warrior Potter," Sharpshard said, grinning broadly. "But as soon as I find out, I'll point you in their direction." He laughed again at the scowl Harry directed his way before clapping his hands together, sharply, and sitting up more in his seat behind the desk. With a gesture, Griphook came forward from where he'd been standing at the aged goblins elbow, a large scroll held in his hands, which he passed across the desk to Harry."

"This is the contract you asked us to draw up. Please look it over to ensure it meets your approval."

Silently, Harry did so, his eyes skimming across the parchment quickly, slowing here or there to more carefully read one section or another, and in a few minutes he'd finished and rolled it back up.

"Looks good," he said. "All the escape clauses I wanted are in there and there's no way for anyone to countermand this contract except for me or Daphne, _if_ it's needed?"

"Once it is signed it is ironclad. The penalties for an outside party attempting to interfere with a contract such as this are most severe. No one raised in the wizarding world would dare attempt it."

Harry nodded, looking with distaste at the scroll in his hands and sighed. "Then I think that's everything, unless you had something else you needed to discuss with me?"

"Nothing at present, Warrior Potter," Sharpshard said, grinning again as Harry scowled at him. "Griphook will lead you to your next meeting and… may I wish you a good hunt, young Warrior. I do not know what you plan to do, but if that contract is your backup, I am sure that I would love to hear the tale of your initial plan, another time."

Harry grinned as he and Amelia stood and bowed. "If it works, I'm fairly certain you'll hear all about it before long."

They made their goodbyes and Griphook led them through a confusing series of tunnels before stopping before a door nearly identical to the one leading into Sharpshard's office. He stopped and turned, looking up at Harry intently. A moment later he held out his hand which Harry quickly accepted.

"Warrior Potter, we goblins do not speak of such things often with outsiders, but from the day you and I first met, I could see that you were different from the rest of your people. Branch Manager Ragnok has acknowledged that you are a very different sort of wizard and I, for one, am pleased he named you Friend and blooded warrior. Goblins find these contracts as distasteful as you do and especially one with the sort of clauses I have heard are likely present in this particular one. I sincerely wish you success in this. When you go in there, remember that you are Lord Potter. You are Friend to the Nation and you are a Blooded Warrior. You have faced and defeated enemies far greater than Lord Greengrass. He is nothing before you. Strike him down decisively and without bravado or posturing, as befits a man of your stature."

He shook Harry's hand, gravely, and nodded sharply before he turned and walked away, leaving Harry and Amelia standing outside the door with dumbfounded expressions on both their faces.

Amelia was the first to recover and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, drawing his attention to her.

"He's right, you know? You have already faced far greater foes than Greengrass. Don't, for a moment, let him try to intimidate you. I know you hate all the posturing and crap, but you _are_ Lord Potter. You are also the Boy-Who-Lived, the Basilisk-Slayer. You've faced Voldemort twice since you started school, and come out on top. You have a higher standing than Greengrass and Malfoy. Remember that."

"Thanks, Amy," he muttered, giving her a small smile and pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around her for a brief moment before he pulled away and faced the door. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the latch and strode into the room with Amelia following behind, closing the door behind her.

The room wasn't an office. It appeared to be a conference room. Large, and mostly empty save for a single table, easily capable of seating twenty in the center. Torches along the walls cast plenty of light and Harry's eye was immediately drawn to the four figures sitting near the far end of the table. On one side, Cyril Greengrass sat, with Daphne sitting beside him, wearing a new set of dress robes, cut to show off her developing figure and Harry's hands clenched into fists at his sides as he realized exactly what he was seeing. She was being put on display, letting the prospective buyer see what he would be getting for his galleons. Obviously, a glamour had been used to hide the scars across her upper chest and her arms.

He forced himself to stay calm, relaxing his hands as they walked along the length of the table and his eyes turned to the two blonds sitting across from Daphne and her father. Lucius Malfoy looked as immaculately dressed as ever, his long hair hanging down just past his shoulders, a disdainful expression on his face as he noticed Harry and Amelia approaching and he leaned over, muttering something into his son's ear where he sat on his fathers left. Draco turned, his eyes narrowing as he took in Harry's robes.

"Potter," he snapped, sneering at them. "What do you think you're doing here? This is private business and you need to leave, before I have the goblins throw you out on your ear."

Harry didn't respond, keeping a tight lid on his anger through the use of a few Occlumency exercises that Daphne had taught him. As Harry rounded the end of the table, walking past the Malfoys to sit at the single empty seat at the head of the table, Draco was blustering and nearly bellowing at him, his pale face rapidly reddening in his anger.

"Mister Malfoy," Harry said, after he sat, Amelia standing behind him and to his right. "Are you in the habit of letting your heir address the Lord of a Most Ancient and Noble House in such a manner? If so, I'm pleased that I haven't attended any of the social events of high society, yet. I'm certain his blustering and carrying on would have quite spoiled any possible enjoyment."

"Calm yourself, Draco," Lucius said in the smooth tones Harry remembered from the few interactions he'd had with the man the previous year. Again, Harry was reminded of the thought he'd had in Flourish and Blotts the summer before. Lucius Malfoy was a far more dangerous individual than his son could ever hope to be. Draco was little more than a spoiled brat, counting on his daddy's money and influence to carry him along without putting much effort of his own in.

"Lord Potter is here as an interested party," Greengrass said and Harry turned his attention back to his primary purpose for being there. That being, saving Daphne, and pulling Greengrass' fangs. If there was anyone in the world Harry felt he could honestly hate, it was the man sitting across the corner of the table to his right.

Brilliantly glowing green eyes regarded him for just a moment before they flickered toward Daphne. When he and Amelia had first stepped into the room, he'd seen the surprise she hadn't been able to hide at the sight of him, but she'd since schooled her expression into the blank, emotionless mask she'd worn when they first met. That mask had slipped, significantly, over the time they'd known each other and when she was around him and their friends, she was nearly unrecognizable as the Ice Queen that she still showed to others.

He felt an honest pang in his chest, a painful twisting sensation and wanted nothing more than to strip that mask away, to see the clever, confident, talented witch that she was beneath it. _He's not going to get away with this, Daphne,_ he vowed, silently, and turned his attention back to Lord Greengrass as the man gestured to Amelia standing behind Harry who held the scroll Sharpshard had given to them.

"I take it that is the counteroffer you have brought against the offer from House Malfoy?"

Harry hummed quietly in the back of his throat, sitting ramrod straight in his seat, both hands on the table in front of him.

"It is… _an_ offer. But before that I have a different offer for you."

Greengrass arched one aristocratic brow at Harry, his face otherwise as immutable as a statues and simply gestured for Harry to continue.

"I have no doubt that, that," he flicked a finger in the direction of the scroll sitting on the table in front of Lucius Malfoy, "is a disgusting thing, basically selling your daughter into slavery, making her little more than a toy to be used and played with at the whims of a pompous braggart with more hot air than skill or brains in his head. The very sight of it makes me want to vomit, to be perfectly honest." He turned his gaze away from the scroll, fixing the Lord Greengrass in his seat with his stare. "I want to offer you a chance to do the right thing. Walk away from this table, right now, and realize that your daughters should be something precious that you as a father should cherish, and not see them as merely bargaining chips for you to use in your own pursuit of power and wealth. Do that, and you and I will have absolutely no problems with each other going forward."

Susan and Hermione had spent several hours with him helping to work out the exact wording of that particular speech. He wanted to give Greengrass the chance, one chance to prove that he wasn't a completely irredeemable sack of krup shit. He didn't think the man Daphne had spoken of would actually be capable of doing that, but he felt that he had to at least try, before he destroyed him.

A second eyebrow followed the first that had risen earlier yet gave no other sign of surprise.

"That's it?" he asked in a sarcastic drawl. "You attempt to appeal to my better nature as a father? You do not know your place, boy," he hissed and Daphne hid a wince as another sharp needle of fury shot through her mind directly from Harry, just as it had that first Christmas at the Boneyard. "The law is clear. The Head of House owns the wife and children. My word is law within my family and my wishes are to be obeyed. You forget your place, if you think that you can dictate to me how I should treat my property."

Behind Harry, Amelia closed her eyes. _That's it,_ she thought. _Harry isn't going to go easy on him now._

"I was afraid you would say something like that," Harry said, sighing in disappointment. "I hoped that you were a better man than that, Lord Greengrass. I really did. But I can see that I was hoping for a fantasy world that could never exist. Since you refuse to be a decent human being, I'll let you get a look at what you missed out on."

At a gesture from Harry, Amelia stepped closer and held the scroll out, presenting it to Greengrass, who took it and unrolled it. As his eyes moved over the parchment, Harry glanced at the Malfoys, noting how Lucius had been keeping up a near constant stream of whispered words into Draco's ear, keeping the Slytherin from speaking out again even though he was glaring murderously at Harry. Mentally, Harry snorted. Draco didn't hold a candle to some of the glares he'd been subjected to over the years. In fact, he thought it kind of made the blond look constipated, rather than dangerous.

When he looked back at Greengrass, he was amused to see that even that mans iron grip on his emotions hadn't been enough to keep the shock off his face. Harry assumed, rightly, that the Head of House Greengrass had just reached the Bride Price in the contract and the open greed on his face just disgusted the young Lord even more.

"This is a most generous offer," Greengrass started but suddenly cut off when Harry reached out and plucked the scroll from his hands, rolling it carefully back up before he handed it back to Amelia.

"It's too bad you aren't a better person, Lord Greengrass," he stated, calmly. "If you were, you might have seen such a contract at some time in the future. Who knows? No one will know, now, what might have been if you weren't such a greedy, disgusting, scum sucking piece of filth in a human guise." As he'd spoken, Harry's voice had dropped to a seething hiss, his face hardening as he finally let the rage and disgust he felt show in his expression. His eyes gleamed like an emerald inferno and the angry retort died on Cyril Greengrass' lips as he leaned back in his seat, his face going pale at the fury directed towards him.

 _Plan A it is,_ Harry thought, and dismissed Daphne's father with a glance, turning his attention to the girl. She appeared as placid as ever, but Harry knew her well enough and could just feel her through their bond to know she was confused, worried, and anxious, so he offered her a small smile before he sat forward in his seat and spoke in as calm and formal a tone as he could.

"Daphne Annabelle Greengrass, do you acknowledge that you owe me, Lord Harry James Potter, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, a life debt for my saving you from a mountain troll on the night of October 31st, 1991?" he asked and he saw a spark of understanding flare in her icy blue eyes as she sat up even straighter in her own seat and nodded.

"I do so acknowledge, Milord," she said and a flash of white light appeared around the both of them, signifying the acknowledgement of the debt as Greengrass paled even further and mentally started swearing up a storm. When Harry spoke next, the man's jaw dropped open.

"Daphne Annabelle Greengrass, do you acknowledge that you owe me, Lord Harry James Potter, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, a life debt for my saving you from Slytherin's Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets on the night of April 13th, 1993?"

"I do so acknowledge, Milord," she said in a strong, clear voice, and there was a second flash of white light that surrounded the both of them.

He gave her another smile before he turned back to Daphne's father, glaring furiously at the man.

"Here's what is going to happen," he said. "You, are going to step down as Head of House Greengrass and hand over the Headship to your eldest daughter, Daphne, effective immediately. Then, you are going to divorce your wife and leave the Greengrass ancestral home. I don't care where you go, but go, you will. You will keep your ownership of Greengrass Import/Exports and no member of your former family will have any claim upon the business, that is for you to keep and manage as you will and since the business account is separate from the family account you will not be lacking for funds. The only things you may take with you are your personal effects, clothes, and any items that you owned _before_ your marriage to Danyella Greengrass. The goblins will make sure to separate out those items from your former family vault and place them into storage for you, for a price.

"In the future you will make no attempt to contact either of your daughters or your wife. You will leave them alone, and take a magical oath, swearing to do nothing in the future that might cause them harm."

"And what makes you think I would do something like that?" He sneered, recovering from his shock. "I am the Lord Greengrass, and Daphne cannot become the Lady Greengrass until after my death."

"She can if you choose to hand over the ring," Harry said, nodding to the platinum ring with a large topaz set in its center that rode on Greengrass right hand. "And you'll do it because, if you don't, then the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass will die with you."

Every pureblood in the room jerked in surprise at that, except for Amelia who was expecting it.

"Are you threatening the life of a Lord?" Lucius asked, his eyes narrowed dangerously, causing Harry to turn briefly toward him in order to answer the question.

"Not at all, simply stating a fact." Harry turned away from the Malfoy's and back to Lord Greengrass. "If you choose not to accept my offer, as stated, your family line will end. You have two daughters, Lord Greengrass. I will use the _two_ life debts, owed to me by your eldest, to claim both of them for my House. They will cease to be members of the Greengrass family and will become part of House Potter. I am aware that you are no longer capable of fathering another child, so, if you lose your daughters to me, then, when you die, hopefully alone and in misery, decades from now, the line of Greengrass will end forever.

"Those are your choices. A successful business to run for yourself, or the end of your bloodline. Choose."

#####

Hannah, Tracey, Blaise, and Neville were staring at Harry in shocked horror.

"Holy shit, Potter!" Blaise blurted out, ignoring the various girls that tried to admonish him for his language. "You seriously hit where it hurts."

"Wait, I don't get it," Dan interrupted. "What did Harry do that was so bad? And didn't you two help him with this plan?" he added, indicating Blaise and Neville.

"We helped, but only working out the life debts and that he could potentially force Greengrass to fold by holding them over his head and accept declaring Daphne as the new Lady Greengrass," Blaise explained. "He never actually told us what the threat was going to be."

"Because I knew that you two would have been upset by it and I didn't want to worry you," Harry cut in. "You know that's not something I would ever orchestrate without a really good reason, right?"

Blaise shook his head. "No, I get it, Harry. Don't worry, but, remind me to _never_ get you pissed at me!"

Beside him Neville was a little bug eyed and nodding his head rapidly in agreement.

"We still don't understand," Emma pointed out and Amelia leaned forward, pushing her empty plate aside to lean her elbows on the table.

"Dan, Emma, to old line purebloods, like Cyril, there are only a few things that are truly important. Wealth and power are pretty high on that list. Political power, magical power, influence, etc. The only thing more important than that is the continuation of the bloodlines."

They still looked confused so she went on.

"The Wizengamot, our court, was founded by twenty-eight families, centuries ago, not too long after the founding of Hogwarts. These families, known as the Sacred Twenty-eight, have been leaders of the wizarding world ever since. Powerful, influential bloodlines that extend back millenia. House Potter was one of those families, that's part of why Harry's family is so well regarded. Even if they were dirt poor and held no political influence, the family name would still hold a lot of weight, simply for the role they played in the foundations of our entire society.

"Greengrass is another one of those families, as well as Bones and Longbottom. Today there are only twelve of the original twenty-eight families still alive. The others have died out. Cyril Greengrass came down sick about eleven years ago with a severe case of wizarding flu, one of the worst in recent history. Though he recovered, the end result left him sterile. He is incapable of fathering another child, so if Harry used the life debts to claim the lives that he saved as his own, then Daphne and her sister would no longer be part of the Greengrass family. They would become Potters, legally and magically, and the Greengrass line, one of the founding families of the British Wizarding World would end when he eventually dies.

"Any political power or influence he has would be gone, instantly. The public would have crucified him for his actions leading to the end of such a prominent family name. His business would also probably have failed within the year, at least from the wizarding side of things. Cyril's entire network of contacts and business associates would have shunned him and I expect that within a few years he would have been penniless and destitute. Really, stepping down as Head of House and saving as much face as he could was the only option available to him. He really had no choice whatsoever."

The Granger parents blinked and looked to the thirteen year old boy at the end of the table next to Amelia where he sat, happily working his way through a large piece of treacle tart, as if he hadn't a care in the world. The image was so at odds with the idea of a powerful Lord, willing to ruthlessly, if bloodlessly, crush out an entire family line, that they simply could not reconcile the two opposing images in their heads.

After a few minutes of silence passed as a majority of the table observed a happily oblivious Lord Potter enjoying his desert, Neville finally cleared his throat, catching Harry's attention.

"So… er… y-you didn't exactly finish telling the story, Harry," he pointed out.

Harry blink several times in confusion before he jumped in his seat, startled, slightly, as his mind returned to task.

"Oh!" he blurted out. "Sorry about that. Ummm… where was I?"

"You had just laid down the ultimate gauntlet and made the Lord Greengrass wet his robes with a threat that would haunt the nightmares of purebloods everywhere for decades to come," Blaise informed him in his best sarcastic drawl, which had the males chuckling and the ladies at the table glaring at him for his crass language.

"Luna?" Hermione asked in a pleasantly sweet tone of voice.

Without looking up from the bowl of pudding that Luna had been industriously working her way through, the tiny blond reached out and smacked Blaise across the back of his head.

"Thank you, Luna, dear," Hermione said, ignoring Blaise mock outrage over his treatment.

Once Harry got his own amusement in hand he took a sip of his butterbeer, set the bottle back on the table, and leaned back in his seat.

"Well, Greengrass asked for a minute to 'deliberate' and stepped out of the room. At this point Malfoy proved, again, just how much empty space there is between his ears instead of actual brain matter. He started spouting off his usual garbage, insulting me, my parents, and, eventually, he called Daphne something that I absolutely will _not_ repeat," he said, his expression so furious by the end that Blaise, Tracey, and Hannah all actually leaned away from the table and as much out of his line of sight as they could get.

"He said that I was nothing but a whore, and my only real purpose in life was to be either on my back, or on my knees, so I might service a proper pureblood wizard," Daphne stated in an even, measured tone of voice.

Harry's bottle of butterbeer suddenly shattered, and everyone jumped except for Daphne and Amelia. Harry closed his eyes and took several deep breaths as the broken glass and spilled liquid vanished and a fresh bottle appeared in its place with a soft pop.

"Thank you, Binky," he called to the empty air after he opened his eyes again and then quickly downed half the bottle in a single go before setting it back down, a little further away from him than the previous one had been.

"Back on point. That pissed me off, but before I could actually turn the little toe rag inside out, three armed goblins showed up, each holding a sword to his throat," His grin was positively feral and was echoed by Blaise and Dan, of all people. "Apparently, it is against goblin law to cast such aspersions upon the character of a Friend of the Nation while in goblin controlled territory, so, Draco got himself slapped with a hefty fine and was banned from entering the bank for at least a year."

"Couldn't have happened to a nicer bloke," Neville muttered, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I couldn't agree more. Before the Malfoys were escorted out, I got Lucy to swear that his son would leave me and all of my friends alone for the remainder of the school year as repayment for his debt from that day he attacked me in Care of Magical Creatures."

"Why didn't you demand he just leave you all along forever?" Emma asked, curiously.

"Draco might have attacked Harry," Susan explained, deciding that it was her turn to add some to the conversation, "but he wasn't actually injured. The rest of the school year is really the best we could have hoped for under the circumstances."

Harry nodded. "Exactly."

Tracey was practically bouncing in her seat beside Hannah, who was watching the half blood witch with open amusement.

"So that explains what happened to Malformed the Git," she said. "What happened with Lord Greengrass? Did he accept your first offer?"

Harry grinned and stood, gesturing to Daphne with one hand. "Ladies, gentlemen, and Blaise, (Oi!) may I be the first to introduce the Lady Daphne Annabelle Greengrass, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass."

Cheers erupted around the table, everyone offering their congratulations, which Daphne accepted with all the grace and dignity of a Lady and Head of House. Once everyone had calmed, something that took several minutes and more than a few long hugs for Daphne, Harry finished off his story.

"Cyril Greengrass agreed to step down and that he would divorce Danyella, something that she told me in more than a few of the letters that we exchanged this year she _really_ wanted. She was more than willing to return to her maiden name and lose her access to the Greengrass fortune if it meant getting away from that monster of a human being. He also swore an Oath on his magic to leave the girls alone and never do anything that would see them come to harm."

"What happens if he breaks that oath?" Dan asked.

"He'll lose his magic and be no better than a squib."

Murmurs swept around the table, those with magic reacting viscerally to the idea of losing that which made them what they were.

"So, are those letters you wrote to Miss Greengrass how you knew that Cyril was sterile? I'm fairly sure you couldn't have gotten that information from the hospital? Confidentiality and all that."

Harry nodded to Dan. "Yup," he said, popping the 'p' loudly. "When we left, Greengrass was sitting with the goblins, filling out the paperwork to dissolve his marriage to…" he trailed off and glanced at Daphne. "She'd be Miss Temple, again, by now, wouldn't she?" he asked, and she nodded. "Okay, so yeah, he was dissolving his marriage to Miss Temple, something Daphne could have done once she had the Head of House Ring on her finger, but I felt it was a little more personal to make him do it himself. Before midnight he'll be locked out of the Greengrass Ancestral Home's wards and his personal effects will have been moved somewhere else."

Neville sat back in his seat, lifting his own butterbeer in one shaking hand to take a long drink.

"Damn, Harry," he said, breathing out a long sigh. "It was a solid plan, but really, you have no idea how nervous I was that he wouldn't bite."

"Okay, you've said that several times, that this plan of yours might not have worked," Dan pointed out. "From what it sounds like he really didn't have any options."

Harry grinned broadly at them.

"Yeah. But, really, if Greengrass saw through the bluff it would never have worked."

Dead silence met that particular statement and Harry just grinned again, supremely pleased with himself for the plan he'd initially come up with, helped along by Neville, Hermione, Susan, and Blaise.

Dan and Emma looked confused. Amelia understood since the plan had been explained to her, but it still boggled her mind slightly that a thirteen-year-old had come up with something so devious. Hannah and Tracey looked completely dumbstruck while Luna was… well… Luna. She smiled over at Harry and turned her attention back to her pudding. She understood the discussion was important and was paying attention, but… pudding.

"A bluff?" Dan asked, slowly, and Harry and Blaise nodded.

"How was it a bluff?" Emma asked. "From everything you've said these life debts sound really serious. Didn't he have no choice but to accept that magic acknowledged the debts?"

"Wizard's First Rule."

Dan and Emma frowned, confused, for a moment, before Dan brightened, sitting up straighter in his seat for a moment.

"Hang on, I know that. Isn't that a novel?"

"Got it in one, Dan. Wizard's First Rule, from the Sword of Truth series by Terry Goodkind states, and the exact wording escapes me so bear with, but it goes something like: People will believe any lie either because they think it is true, or they are afraid it is true. Basically, people are stupid."

"What does this have to do with the life debts being a bluff?"

"Blaise, you wanna take this one?"

"With pleasure, Lord Potter," Blaise smirked, then calmly ducked a roll that Harry threw at him. "The reason the whole idea of the life debts being used to end the Greengrass line was a bluff is because there _are_ no life debts."

Dan, Emma, Tracey, and Hannah blinked.

"Huh?"

"It's rather simple, really, and it all hinged on one very important piece of information. Greengrass is a skeptical man. From what Daphne has told us in the last couple of years, he doesn't _really_ believe in the whole Soul Bond these four share," he explained, gesturing to the quartet. "He sees the entire concept as myth and fantasy. He acknowledged there is a connection, or some sort, but refuses to consider what that really means.

"To create a life debt, in this case between Harry and Daphne, Harry would have to have saved Daphne's life from truly mortal peril that he had no hand in creating, his life had to be in true peril as well, and he had to do so with absolutely no selfish reasons. Basically, saving her life had to be a completely altruistic prospect on his part."

"And wasn't it? He didn't save Daphne because he wanted a reward or anything."

"True, he didn't. In Harry's mind he was really acting for no reason other than he wanted to save her. He didn't want any reward or anything from her. But, because they're bonded, it is literally impossible for them to owe each other any form of life debt. When Harry saved Daphne, she was, and still is, carrying a part of _his_ soul. In a sense, he was saving himself at the same time. So, even though his reasons were altruistic, magic recognizes that, technically, he was still acting in his own self interests by protecting her."

"So what about the flash of light you said meant the debts were recognized?" Hannah asked. "That wouldn't have been possible if there weren't any debts."

Harry grinned again. "I created the light at the right time. It was all a smoke screen, some slight of hand. Convince Greengrass that the debts were real, and he'd have no choice but to capitulate. But if he'd seen through my bluff and realized that I was faking it, I would have had to go with the contract offer."

"If he figures it out, you realize he's going to be _really_ furious," Tracey pointed out.

"True," Harry admitted. "Hence why we made sure to limit his power and influence. He's still better off than I would have liked, but he's also not as easily positioned to act against me in any way right now. I'll be very careful in the future, but I don't think we have too much to worry about in regards to Cyril Greengrass."

#####

A loud crash echoed through a dingy, dirty, hovel of a shack situated outside a small Devonshire town. The name of the town escaped him, nor did he particularly care as it was inhabited entirely by filth.

"Potter," Cyril Greengrass snarled, draining his glass of firewhiskey in a single gulp. He sat on the floor in the middle of the largest room in the shack, what might have been a sitting room in another building, glass in hand and an open bottle of Ogden's sitting beside him.

This. This was exactly the type of thing he'd been afraid would happen. That stupid bitch of a daughter of his had to go and get herself saved by the fucking Boy-Who-Lived, and, of course, the arrogant, spoiled little shit decided to ruin him, to destroy everything he'd worked for.

With an inarticulate roar of rage he grabbed the, nearly empty, bottle of firewhiskey and hurled it at the far wall where it shattered in a spray of flammable liquid and glass shards. He staggered to his feet, wavering slightly as the hovel spun around him for a moment before he staggered over to a gleaming, polished leather case and opened it, digging through the piles of parchment inside.

That bitch that he married and the waste of sperm that he spawned never knew he had monitoring charms on nearly every room in the Manor, each one tied to a separate dicta-quil. Carefully, he looked back at some of the conversations held in his eldest daughter's room between her and her whore mother. Finding the two discussions he wanted, he read carefully, squinting blearily at the parchment.

"Sorcerer's Stone and a shade of the Dark Lord," he muttered. "And a memory, preserved in a diary…" The first had no corroborating witnesses that would speak to him, but the second… "Fudge, old boy, you saw the brat's memory. I think we need to have a nice, long conversation, Cornelius."

"Oi, what's all this then?"

Greengrass spun around, staggering slightly as the world spun with him and caught himself on the edge of a half rotted, creaking old desk.

"Careful, there, guv."

He looked up, taking in the man standing in the hovel's doorway, muggle torch in one hand and the other the handle of a wooden stick stuck through a loop on his belt. Greengrass was just able to make out enough of the uniform to realize who had found him and he groaned, cursing himself for forgetting to put up muggle repelling wards.

"Evenin' Officer," he muttered. "Hope I haven't bothered anyone."

"Whatchoo doin' here?" the bobby asked, lowering his torch to point at the ground just in front of Cyril.

"Just… trying to drink away some troubles," he muttered, letting himself slump to the ground against the desk. His right hand dropped to land in his lap, right by the cuff of his left sleeve. "Got a problem. A problem I need to fix."

"We all got problems, Mate. Trouble with the Missus? Work? Drinkin' 'em away ain't the way ta fix 'em."

Cyril laughed, a dry, mirthless thing.

"Seemed… seemed like a good idea… at the time."

"It usually does, but it really aint," the bobby tried. "Look, this shack's abandoned, can't leave you here. Why don't you come with me? We've got a bed, back at the station. You could sleep this off or we could call someone ta come get ya?"

Cyril's head bobbed up and down a few times and the bobby took a step closer, reaching out to help him up.

"Come on, Mate. Up ya get. In the mornin' this'll all look a lot-"

Cyril suddenly moved, his right hand grasping the handle of the wand tucked up his left sleeve and he whipped his arm out and up, pointing the polished length of wood directly at the young man, who couldn't have been older than twenty.

"Avada Kedavra!"

###

 **Author's note the second: So, I know, this story is set right now in December of 1993 and the first Sword of Truth novel, Wizard's First Rule wasn't published until August of 1994. I understand that, but the idea of Wizard's First Rule was just too perfect for this instance so I'm fudging things a little. Just pretend the book came out a couple years earlier than it did in real life and all will be right with the world.**

 **That being said, check out those books, if you haven't, it's a great series. Terry Goodkind is an amazing author with a compelling and fascinating story to tell.**


	39. Happy New Year

**Author's notes: Here we are again gang, the Rotten Writer with another chapter hot off the touchscreen. Mostly some fluffy filler material ahead, but it all leads back to Hogwarts in the NEXT chapter.**

 **I want to thank Rhys Thornbery for his excellent beta work, again. You'd have a slightly different set of events here if not for him reigning me in.**

 **Also I'd like to thank a reviewer Zeromaru Chaos Mode for giving me the inspiration behind a line from Luna about 'existences' you'll know it when you see it.**

 **Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all affiliated characters do not belong to me… *curls up in a corner and cries***

 **Moving on to Chapter 38 of Soul Scars! Enjoy.**

Soul Scars part three

The Greengrass Problem

By,

Rtnwriter

Christmas Eve had been a long and emotional day. One that caused the new Lady Greengrass to consider the people in her life and what they meant to her. That morning, she had woken, fearful that her life would never be the same and that she was going to lose the most important people in the world to her. By the afternoon, her life had changed, but in a way she could never have predicted. For the first time, she was free to make her own choices, her own decisions and to do so without fear of her father leveraging his control over her through House Duty to ensure her compliance with his wishes.

And she had her friends and bond mates to thank for the freedom she was now presented with.

Daphne had felt a growing sense of closeness to her three bond mates over the last two years. At times, it was a slow, gradual progression, as they spent time together and learned more about each other. Other times, it seemed to take a dramatic leap forward and the depths of her feelings for them grew.

The night Harry saved her from the troll.

The night that she and Harry shared in the Common Room in their first year.

When Hermione stated, emphatically, 'you belong to us'.

Baring her soul to a petrified Hermione in the Hospital Wing.

Harry saving her from the basilisk.

The night she kissed Hermione, and then Susan kissed her.

Their now, semi-regular conversations, where they just shared of themselves.

Four times, since Halloween night, that Harry had allowed them to each ask about a single scar.

Twelve scars they now knew the story behind. Twelve small windows into the pain filled childhood of Harry Potter.

And now this. Her friends, her bond mates. They had gone far out of their way, above and beyond, and they had found a way, not only to save her from the Malfoys, but they also saved her sister and her mother. She felt something. Something she couldn't describe, deep in her chest. She was exhausted from the emotional roller coaster of the day, yet she felt energized too.

"It's amazing, isn't it?"

Daphne turned her head to look at little Luna Lovegood, who had, unnoticed, approached and sat beside her on the small sofa she'd claimed, her too large silvery blue eyes watching her with an understanding gaze.

"What is?" she asked.

"Understanding."

Daphne quirked a brow at the ethereal seeming blond. "Understanding what?"

Luna turned to look out over the parlor and the milling crowd of people in it. "Understanding that you have people in the world that would move the heavens and earth, just to make you happy. To keep you safe. People that would gladly face Death to protect you. That would stand beside you and gaze into the abyss for no other reason than because they care, and because you are important to them."

Daphne followed her gaze and took in the strange group in front of her. Blaise and Neville were in, what appeared to be, a friendly, if quite spirited, debate judging by their animated expressions and active hand gestures as they spoke. Tracey, Hannah, and Susan were playing a board game that Hermione had brought from her home, something called Clue, and appeared to be enjoying themselves. Harry and Hermione were sitting side by side on a loveseat just barely big enough for the two of them, each with their nose buried in a large, dusty looking tome while, over this activity, Dan, Emma, Danyella, and Amelia kept a casual watch, engaged in a conversation of their own.

They all appeared happy, and relaxed. Yet, as she watched, she noticed that Neville, Harry, Hermione, and Susan frequently looked away from their own activities to find her. Each time, they would spend a second or two observing, before smiling briefly and returning their attention to what they were doing. Their frequent scrutiny was not intrusive or invasive, but caring, and filled with an honest desire to see that she was safe.

In fact, it had taken two hours after their earlier meal, just to get the girls to give her more than a few feet of space. Susan and Hermione both kept touching her hands, or arms, or shoulders at random moments, as if reassuring themselves that she was still there, that she was really with them and hadn't been lost to the machinations of a vicious, if petty, tyrant.

Yes, they would walk through fire for her, lay down their lives or destroy any threat to her if need be. And, she realized, she would gladly do the same for any one of them.

"Yes," she muttered, finally responding to Luna's first question. "It is quite amazing to understand just how much they care for me, and how much I care for them."

"Then, why do you worry?" Luna asked, and Daphne dragged her eyes away from where they had been lingering on Harry to focus, once again, on Luna.

"What do you mean?"

"The nargles tell me things," Luna said, her voice distant even as her eyes studied the air around Daphne's head. "They're quite chatty, if you know how to listen. You look at Susan and Hermione and you feel like… admiration, want, desire… love." She blinked, her eyes focusing intently on Daphne's face. "But it is different when you look at Harry. You still feel like all of those things, but you also feel like worry. Not always worry for him, though that is there. It is a worry for something about him." She cocked her head to one side, curiously.

How much to tell? Daphne wondered, shoving aside the question of just how Luna always seemed to know so much. If there was one person they knew that Daphne was sure would never judge someone unfairly, it was Luna Lovegood, the girl who had been judged as strange by her House Mates at school and was bullied terribly for it. She felt she could trust little Luna with anything.

She sighed and let her eyes move back to her bond mates.

"Luna, have you ever wondered who you'll fall in love with?" she asked as she watched Harry point out something in his book to Hermione and she leaned closer, reading where he'd indicated for a moment before a smile lit her face and she nodded.

"Many times. I used to think, maybe, Ron Weasley, but he isn't very nice at times, and I think I would like someone who was nice. For a while, I thought I might fall for Ginny Weasley, but I don't know for certain. Hannah seems quite nice, but I think she has limited existences, like most people."

That was enough to catch Daphne's attention and she turned in her seat to face the tiny blond.

"What do you mean by 'limited existences'?" she asked.

"Well… people are more than they are on the outside, aren't they?" Luna said, tilting her head the other way. "They are minds with thoughts, needs, and desires. They are souls of light and dark and everything in between. All that a person is, their existence, is defined by these things. Hannah seems to limit her attentions to the boy shaped existences." Luna shrugged her slim shoulders, smiling softly.

"Seems to me, instead of falling in love with a person that meets an approved or expected shape, fall in love with an existence that just happens to be shaped like a person, or people."

Daphne blinked, her gaze becoming thoughtful.

"That… that is an interesting way of looking at it, Luna," she finally said. "You've certainly given me a lot to think about."

"I've been told I do that," Luna chirped with a cheerful grin on her face. They chatted for a while longer, though Daphne was quite distracted by her own thoughts and, eventually, Luna excused herself, saying something about inspecting the mistletoe.

#####

It wasn't much longer before people started heading home and, soon enough, Daphne found herself engulfed in a warm hug, a cloud of soft brown curls in her face and the scents of vanilla and old parchment filling her nose.

"I told you, you belong to us," Hermione whispered, "and we won't let anyone take you from us."

Daphne didn't answer, she just breathed, her eyes closed, letting the scents and the feeling of Hermione's body, pressed tightly against her, dominate her awareness.

"We'll be back in the morning to celebrate properly with everyone, okay?" Hermione asked when she pulled back and Susan nodded from where she stood next to them, waiting her turn to hug the brunette witch.

Once everyone that was leaving was gone, leaving just Amelia, Harry, Daphne, and Susan in the house, Amelia approached and pulled Daphne into another hug.

"I can't tell you how good it is to have you here and out from under that man's thumb," she murmured, embracing her firmly.

"Thank you, Auntie Amelia," Daphne whispered back.

"I didn't do anything special," Amelia disagreed, pulling back to look into Daphne's icy blue gaze.

"You're just blessed to have friends that care so much for you," she added and quickly hugged Harry and Susan as well, telling them not to stay up too late before she headed up to her own bed.

By the time they said goodnight to Harry in the hallway between his and Susan's bedroom's, Daphne felt that she had come to a decision. The question now was getting up the nerve to take the first step.

The door closed behind them and Daphne immediately had her wand in hand, dispelling the glamours that hid her scars and she shuddered slightly as the feeling of the magic washed over her. She was broken out of her thoughts a moment later when a slim pair of arms wrapped around her waist and a warm body pressed up behind her.

"Looks like I finally got you alone," Susan whispered, pressing a small kiss to the back of Daphne's neck and the blond witch sighed, leaning back against her bond mate for a moment, simply enjoying Susan's presence. Eventually, she pulled her scattered thoughts together and turned in the taller girls arms, reaching up to wrap her own arms around her shoulders as she buried her face in the crook of Susan's neck.

"Daphne? Is something wrong?"

Daphne shook her head. "Just… give me a minute?"

The arms around her tightened, drawing her closer and she felt Susan press a kiss to the crown of her head.

"Take all the time you need," she murmured, one hand trailing soothingly up and down her back

Rarely had Daphne ever felt as safe and cared for as she did then. With one of the women she was sure she loved wrapped around her, breathing in the smells that always clung to the red head. Daphne loved that they each tended to use different soaps and shampoos. Different smells would often remind her of one of her three bond mates at the most random of times and it always filled with her a sense of warmth when her mind dredged up memories of the young man and the two women that had become such central figures in her life.

After several minutes she pulled back, her face composed and with a stronger grip on the frantic feelings that had been welling up inside her. Tilting her head up, she leaned forward and pressed a chaste, but lingering kiss to Susan's lips.

"Let's get ready for bed," she whispered and Susan nodded, letting Daphne take the lead.

She quickly selected an outfit from the closet and handed it to Susan who quirked a single brow in her direction, but said nothing, even as her lips turned up into a smirk. She simply took the offered clothes and slipped into the bathroom to change. Daphne stripped off the expensive dress robes she hadn't yet changed out of and threw them onto a chair near the fireplace. A small part of her wanted to keep them, since she'd noticed a few lingering glances from all three of her bond mates and knew the cut and design of the robes did an excellent job to show off her figure. But that particular set had been bought with the express purpose of putting her on display for the Malfoys, something Harry had commented on that had infuriated him. She didn't care for it much, herself, so she thought she might burn that particular set and consider buying something new in the future.

She pushed the thought aside and quickly dressed, removing her bra, which was too uncomfortable to sleep in, and slipped into the outfit she'd selected before pulling down the comforter on Susan's bed. She hesitated a moment, but then climbed into the bed. Sitting up against the headboard near the center of the bed, she pulled one of the pillows into her lap, hugging it tightly to her as she waited.

The shifting of the bed was her first sign that Susan had returned and she blinked in surprise that she hadn't even noticed her come back into the room. She looked over and reminded herself not to stare.

They were both wearing the same outfits from that night in the Room of Requirement with Hermione and Daphne, belatedly, realized that might not have been her smartest choice of sleepwear. Not if she wanted to remain in control...

Susan crawled across the bed and sat beside her. Reaching out, she pulled the pillow away and gently coaxed Daphne into her arms, stroking her hair with one hand while her other arm wrapped protectively around her.

"What is it?" Susan asked. "You seem really nervous."

Daphne sighed, closing her eyes and just taking in the presence of the girl beside her.

"I am… and I'm not. It's… it's hard to explain," she murmured and Susan's arm tightened around her again in a brief hug before relaxing. She didn't say anything, just held her and continued to stroke her hair, letting Daphne gather her thoughts and speak when, or if, she would.

It took some time, but eventually, Daphne felt she had enough of a handle on what she wanted to say and slowly started to speak, her voice a low murmur.

"Today, the last few months, I've been terrified. I've worried about what was going to happen to me. I was worried that I was going to lose you and Harry and Hermione." She sighed and turned more toward Susan, pressing her face into the other girls neck. "I realized I've been selfish."

"Selfish?" Susan was surprised. "How have you possibly been selfish?"

"I've been so focused on how I was feeling and what I stood to lose that I completely ignored that, if you all hadn't figured out a way to help me, you would have lost me, too. I didn't even think how worried the three of you must have been about this whole thing."

Susan considered that, carefully, before responding.

"Yes, I was worried, but I honestly didn't think of what I might have lost, what we might have lost, since I was positive that we were going to save you. You know that we would never have let those bastards have you. We would have figured something out, no matter what, even if the first plan didn't work, Harry was willing to offer a contract, as much as he hates the idea of them."

"He hates contracts? I- No," Daphne stopped herself. "We'll discuss that later."

Susan laughed, lightly, and pulled Daphne closer to her.

"Anyway, I was worried more about you and how upset and stressed you were. I could see it eating at you, but House Duty prevented us from letting you know that everything was going to be okay, and I absolutely hated that."

Daphne sat up and turned so she was facing Susan.

"I realized something else during all this," she said, "and I wanted to tell you. I want to tell Harry and Hermione, too, but I don't think either of them are ready, really."

Susan's curiosity was well and truly piqued abd she gestured for Daphne to continue. After a deep breath to steady her nerves, she did.

"You know, now, how much I've worried about this bond, the relationship the four of us have and where it's going. Our entire situation is anything but normal, and trying to find our own identities while there are three other people in our heads isn't easy. Hermione is trying to decide if she can be with us and I'm unsure about Harry." She paused for a moment in thought.

"Actually, I got some advice today that might help me with that, but that's not important, right now. Through all of this mess, you've been a constant, Susan. You've seemed to have the least trouble adapting and you're always so sure, so confident that the four of us will be okay, with only a couple moments of self doubt. You have had the most faith in us and you've done the most to smooth the rough edges, getting us to talk to each other and open up." Daphne reached out and took both of Susan's hands in her own, looking the redhead in the eyes, determined to hold her gaze.

"You're faithful, and loyal. I wanted to reward that faith. I wanted you to be the first to know that I finally understand."

For some reason, Susan felt as if she could hardly breathe, her mouth suddenly dry as a nervous fluttering filled her stomach. The tip of her tongue darted out, attempting to wet her lips and she was certain that Daphne's hold of her was the only thing that kept her hands from shaking.

"Understand what?" she asked, as calmly as she could.

Daphne smiled, softly, and one hand came up to cup Susan's cheek, her thumb gently stroking the girl's smooth skin. When she spoke again her voice came out as a quiet whisper that just barely reached Susan's ears.

"I finally understand what I've been feeling, what I've been doubting I was good enough for since I'm broken. I understand, now, that I love you, Susan Amelia Bones. I wanted you to be the first to know that."

Susan froze. Three words she knew she would hear, one day. She knew it would happen for them, she had every confidence that it would. That knowledge, that assurance, did absolutely nothing to prepare her for the reality of actually hearing them spoken aloud for the first time. She felt as if her heart stopped for a moment before it started pounding again, harder than ever. She almost thought that Daphne should have been able to hear it beating in her chest.

Slowly, she tugged on the hand she still held, pulling Daphne closer until, still staring into each others eyes, Susan whispered, "you have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear that. I love you too, Daphne."

Daphne's cold blue eyes lit up in pure joy for the briefest of moments before they slid closed as Susan closed that last inch of distance between them and when their lips met a kaleidoscopic aura of green and auburn light burst silently into existence around them, bathing the room in a brilliant radiance that neither girl even noticed, so distracted were they.

Despite deciding that they weren't going to technically date or be together in an actual relationship, that hadn't stopped them from sharing the occasional kiss since that early October night when Daphne succumbed to her fears and kissed Hermione. There had been several private moments between the two, but this moment was unlike the others.

Previous kisses were simple, tender things. Lips closed, a gentle press of their mouths that gave them both a warm glow and a pleasant tingle that ran through their bodies. This kiss was very different, even though it started out the same, with Susan's lips gently pressed against Daphne's. In moment's however, they were pressed harder against each other, and Susan opened her mouth slightly, her tongue darting out to quickly trace the seam of Daphne's lips.

A small gasp escaped the blond and Susan took the opportunity to slip her tongue into her partner's mouth, gently exploring for a few moments before she breathlessly pulled back. Daphne's eyes opened and her sharp intake of breath had Susan doing the same, both of them marveling at the slowly fading light that surrounded them for the last few seconds before it faded completely and they glanced back at each other in stunned confusion.

"What was that?" Susan blurted out.

Daphne shook her head. "I think… I think that might have been us completing the bond… or, at least our part of it?"

"We'll have to wait to see Madam Pomfrey to check, won't we?"

Daphne nodded.

"Then we'll worry about it later. Let's go to bed."

They pulled down the top sheet and slipped beneath it, Daphne sliding into Susan's arms, lying with her head on the other girl's right shoulder, their arms and legs tangled together and she couldn't help but breathe out a deep, contented sigh.

They laid quietly for several minutes before Susan couldn't help herself any longer. "Say it again?" she asked.

For a moment, Daphne wasn't completely certain what was being requested, then it clicked and she smiled and leaned over, pressing her lips to the small, crescent shaped scar behind Susan's jaw. She moved, letting her lips just brush the shell of Susan's ear. "I love you," she said in a soft murmur, feeling a tremor run through Susan's body as the words and the brush of warm breath across her ear thrilled her in different ways.

"I just wanted to be absolutely certain I hadn't imagined any of that. I love you, too, Daphne."

"How long?"

"Hmmm?" Susan hummed, glancing down at the blond in her arms. "How long what?"

"How long have you known you loved us? I know you well enough that I'm pretty certain if you love me, you feel the same for Hermione and Harry too. You're too much a Hufflepuff not to," she added with a teasing grin that turned into a squeak when Susan pinched her side.

"Quiet, you," she muttered though she was grinning. "I'm honestly not completely certain, but I think if I had to pick a moment when it clicked in my head, I think it was first year, right after we went after the Stone."

"What was it? What made you realize?"

"When we went behind the privacy screens and they said that... they said that Harry had died." Susan's voice trailed off as she remembered that moment in vivid detail and their physical contact meant that even their Occlumency shields couldn't stop her feelings from bleeding across to Daphne. "It was obvious he was still alive, but… I don't know, for a moment I thought, what if he hadn't made it? What if that was it? He was just gone? That made me wonder what if you or Hermione died and I just… the idea terrified me so much."

Suddenly, light kisses were raining down on her face as a pair of soft hands cupped her cheeks, wiping away a couple of tears she hadn't realized she'd shed in the face of that remembered pain.

"We're here, love," Daphne whispered, staring intently into Susan's watery eyes. "I'm here with you, right now. We're not going anywhere."

Susan nodded and Daphne waited for a few seconds, checking to be absolutely certain that her point had made it across before she settled back down on Susan's shoulder again as the girl continued to speak.

"Well, that was it. It took me about half way through the summer to put it together but I didn't think I would have been so upset about it if I didn't love him, at least in a small way. Once I figured that out it wasn't a stretch to realize that extended to you and to Hermione as well. I didn't say anything before because I didn't want to push any of you. You and Harry have had such hard lives. I figured it would be harder for the two of you to recognize or to even believe yourselves worth being loved, and with all the bullying that Hermione went through, I didn't think she'd be _too_ much better, plus she's still trying to wrap her head around us so…"

She trailed off and shrugged her free shoulder, helplessly.

"You're probably right," Daphne, reluctantly, admitted. "It crept up on me. Second year was when I started to realize it, remember I said my mother forced it out of me to admit I had feelings for you and Hermione, I just didn't really know how to define those feelings at the time. It all crystallized tonight when I was reminded what we nearly lost."

Daphne closed her eyes and yawned, one hand coming up to cover her mouth and Susan chuckled quietly, gently stroking her hair.

"You've had a hard day, love, and tomorrow is going to be busy though. We should get some sleep."

As much as she didn't want to, Daphne had to admit that Susan had a point, so she nodded and settled in, pressing herself as close to her bond mate as she could, one arm wrapped around the girls middle with one leg thrown over both of hers.

"Love you," she murmured, sleepily, and Susan smiled, bending her neck to press a kiss to the crown of Daphne's head.

"Love you, too."

In minutes both of them were sound asleep, their soft breath the only sound in the room.

#####

The next several days flew by, filled with laughter, family, gifts, and, perhaps, a little bit of scheming. Susan and Daphne, after a candid morning conversation held before Hermione and her parents arrived at the Boneyard, decided that it wouldn't hurt to try to give their bond mates the occasional gentle nudge. They just needed to not come across as smothering.

Exchanging gifts on Christmas Day started out lighthearted and fun, but turned more emotional when, after all the presents were opened, Harry pulled Daphne aside and gave her the scroll that contained the betrothal contract that he'd had drawn up.

"You can keep this as a reminder, maybe, or burn it, if you want. I don't care either way, but I want you to read it first," he said as he placed it in her hands. "I'm sure the last thing you wanted was to be contracted to anyone, but you'll understand when you read it that this wouldn't have tied you down, if I'd been forced to use it. I just don't want you to have an incomplete picture of my actions."

He'd looked so worried about how she would react that she reassured him the best way she could think of. She leaned close and pressed a long, lingering kiss to his cheek, one that just missed his lips by less than an inch.

Later, at home, she read over the contract with her mother and sister and after looking through the entire thing, Astoria had only one thing to say.

"Is he stupid?"

"Astoria!"

"Really, mother! Look at this thing! There are twelve, _twelve_ different clauses that would let Daphne cancel this thing with absolutely no penalties, and only one for him. He had her education paid for up to Mastery level, if she wanted, a huge monthly stipend paid from his family vaults… basically, the only thing he didn't do was give her unfettered access to his accounts. And he acts like Daph would be upset to be part of a contract like this?" She turned and looked at Daphne.

"Seriously, is he stupid? And if you don't want him, can I have him?"

"Astoria, stop pestering your sister and go put away your presents."

"The elves can do that, mother-"

"Astoria!"

Grumbling under her breath, Daphne's little sister headed for her room as Danyella sat beside her eldest, who was staring at the contract with a dazed look in her eyes.

"He's a fine young man," she murmured, tucking a few strands of hair behind Daphne's ear.

"He's amazing," Daphne corrected. "He had an opportunity to do any number of things with this contract. He could have had access to me. He could have just offered this and been done with it. Neville said he even asked why not just make an offer instead of going through the months of research and all the work they did on Harry's plan. Instead of taking the easy solution, he found a way to have us completely free of that…" She trailed off and shook her head.

"Who does something like that? I don't understand how he can be so selfless after everything he's suffered. He should hate everyone. He should want to just watch the world burn, and instead he does things like this."

"Makes him an easy man to fall for," her mother pointed out and Daphne rolled her eyes, but nodded.

"Yes, it does," she agreed, much to her mother's surprise. "I was finally able to admit it last night," she explained. "I told Susan and she said she loves me too. I know I love Hermione, I just have to be patient with her. After yesterday, I'm positive that I love him too, now I just have to find out if I can want more of him as well."

#####

Days later, that conversation continued to echo through her mind as the clock showed 11:45 in the evening on December 31st. She took a deep breath and started looking around, she had to do this, she had to _know_. Looking across the shifting crowd of friends and family enjoying the party at the Boneyard, she caught Susan's eye. She jerked her head toward the house and Susan nodded before setting her drink down and she then set off in search of Hermione.

With that step taken care of, Daphne headed into the house through the patio door and into the kitchen. Nervously, she smoothed down her robes and resisted the urge to fidget. She was a pureblood Lady, she reminded herself, and she was better than that at keeping her composure.

As she waited, she made a mental note to thank Susan and Hermione for their help. For a moment, her thoughts wandered, wondering what she might be able to do for her bondmates to express how much she appreciated their help, but quickly dragged herself back to the present, shoving her musings to the back of her mind.

"Daphne?"

She turned around to find Harry standing in the doorway leading out to the patio, his left hand resting naturally on the hilt of the sword belted to his waist and she smiled softly at him, motioning for him to come closer.

"Hey," he said, stopping a few feet from her. "Hermione and Susan said you wanted to talk to me?"

She nodded. "I did, thanks."

"What is it?" he asked, and leaned back against the table, his arms crossed over his chest.

She hesitated a moment, carefully prepared speeches flying out of her head now that she was standing there with him.

"I… I have a problem," she tried and he tilted his head to the side, his eyes gleaming brilliantly in the dimly lit room.

"What is it? Can I do something to help?"

She let out a small, nervous laugh. "Harry, you are actually the _only_ one who can help."

"Well? What can I do?"

There's something I need to do. Something I _want_ to do, but…"

"But?" he prompted her when she trailed off.

"I'm afraid," she finally admitted after a couple minutes of silence where he simply stood, patiently, waiting for her to continue.

"Afraid of what?" he asked, his growing confusion coloring his voice.

"I'm afraid that what I need to do… I'm afraid I won't like it, and, honestly, I'm kind of terrified that I will."

That did absolutely nothing to clear things up for him and Harry frowned, his brow furrowed as he tried to think of something he could say or offer to help her.

"Well, it seems to me like the only choice is just to do it, whatever it is, and hope for the best."

"What is the best, though?"

He shrugged. "I guess only you can answer that."

Outside, they could hear the Weasley twins calling for everyone to gather together on the patio. Hermione and Susan had talked the two into setting up a fireworks display to go off exactly at midnight to ring in the New Year. A much harder task had been talking Amelia into allowing the troublesome duo to play with explosives on her property, but to help help Daphne, Hermione and Susan had proven equal to the challenge and talked her into it.

The gathering was the two minute warning.

"Stand up, please?" she requested and he gave her a quizzical look, but did as she asked, straightening up to his full height and letting his arms fall to his sides.

Steeling herself, she walked up to him, stepping in very close, until she could easily smell the soap and broomstick polish that always clung to him. Reaching out, she took his wrists and placed his hands on her waist.

"Uhh… Daphn-"

"Please, don't say anything?" she nearly begged, her heart pounding from a mixture of fear and exhilaration that set her head spinning.

He fell silent.

Standing so close, she realized that she really had to look up to see him, as the top of her head now only reached his chin.

Tentatively, she put her hands on his chest, feeling the lean muscles beneath the thin fabric of his long sleeved shirt, and the scar that crossed his torso. She marveled, for a moment, at the heat that still radiated off of him and let her hands slide up as, outside, the guests started counting down from ten.

Her left hand cupped the back of his neck as the fingers of her right tangled in his messy black hair behind his head and, just as everyone screamed 'Happy New Year', she drew his head down, and brought his mouth to hers.

#####

The door to Susan's bedroom burst open for a moment before slamming shut as two, giggling girls, stormed into the room. Quickly they moved over to the bed and climbed in, sitting cross legged, facing the third of their number who was waiting calmly for the two, despite the late hour. Midnight had been over an hour ago, but Susan had been required to help bid their guests goodnight and Hermione had decided to avoid the temptation of harassing Daphne by staying to help out.

"So?" Susan demanded.

"Harry looked like he was in a daze for a while before he disappeared," Hermione added, grinning brightly, though there was an intense scrutiny in her gaze as she studied Daphne's face, looking for… something, only the bushy haired witch knew exactly what, and possibly not even she really knew what she was looking for.

"What? I managed to do it. I kissed him at midnight on New Years."

Susan and Hermione waited expectantly but Daphne said nothing, her face carefully neutral.

"Oh, come on!" Susan burst out. "You have got to give us more than that, woman!"

Daphne's only answer was a small smirk.

Until Susan grabbed a pillow and threatened her with it.

"Okay, okay," Daphne said, laughing, her hands raised in front of her in surrender. "No need for violence. It really wasn't anything huge, though. It was Harry's first kiss, you know, so I kept it simple. No tongue or anything. I just… have either of you noticed how _tall_ he's getting?" she asked and both girls blinked in surprise at her. "I didn't notice, really, until I was right in front of him. Even up on my toes I couldn't have reached his lips, so I held the back of his neck and got my fingers in his hair behind his head and pulled him down to me, and I kissed him."

"And?" Hermione asked, her bottom lip slightly swollen from the amount of time she'd spent chewing on it that evening. "What did you think?"

Daphne considered that for a moment before she suddenly leaned forward, wrapped one hand around the back of Susan's neck, and yanked the girl into a short, but fairly intense kiss. When Daphne released her, Susan leaned back, a slightly dazed look in her eyes, her face already flushed and Daphne thought, carefully comparing the two experiences in her head.

"It was… strange, in a way. Different than kissing Susan, for sure… or you," she added, slightly hesitantly, to Hermione, who waved away any concern. Honestly, Hermione was happy to help, happy to see Daphne working actively on her feelings. But she couldn't help but compare it to her own struggle and wanted as much information as she could get.

"Different good? Different bad?" Susan asked, re-joining the discussion.

"Just… different. His lips aren't quite as soft. Then there's that temperature of his, I could feel the heat coming off of him. His hands felt nice on my waist, bigger than any of our hands, maybe a bit stronger?" She shrugged helplessly, having trouble finding the words to describe the experience. "It was just different."

Susan and Hermione exchanged a look but Daphne didn't notice, her own gaze unfocused as she considered the so recent memory of kissing Harry Potter and, slowly, a smile spread across her lips.

"I think I liked it," she finally admitted. "I don't think I would say no to doing it again, at least."

She'd barely finished the sentence before the two of them squealed happily and they both slammed into her, sending all three tumbling back onto the bed, babbling happily at her. They laid there, talking quietly for some time until, one by one, they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each others arms.

In less than a week, they would be returning to Hogwarts and, with Daphne's contract issue solved, they could focus on each other, school, and, with Tonks and Kingsley at Hogwarts to catch Sirius, they were hopeful for a far less exciting second term than they were used to.


	40. Court of Public Opinion

**Author's Notes: The Rotten Writer, here again, gang, with another update for Soul Scars. All right, first and foremost, I'll be honest, conversations dealing with people like Fudge, I have trouble with. The pure idiocy and in ability to listen to common sense or reason just drives me nuts, so I struggle to do him justice. I really do. So I'm going to apologize now if the whole thing seems off but it's really bout the best I can do right now.**

 **Things are finally starting to move forward and we should be seeing the end of this year coming up pretty fast, honestly. Possibly next chapter or the one after. I make no promises though. I wanted to do some more forward movement with the girls, and Harry as well, but I thought things might get a little old with the last couple chapters having some big advancements so I'm gonna save some of that for the next one.**

 **Disclaimer: I still own nothing… that is all.**

 **Here is chapter 39 of Soul Scars! Enjoy.**

Soul Scars Part Three

The Greengrass Problem

by,

Rtnwriter

Director Croaker stood silently, carefully studying the names on the wall and silently lamenting the time lost to studying one of magic's greatest mysteries. Harry James Potter and Hermione Jean Granger. Two parts of a larger whole. Those two names, spelled out in glittering gold, gleamed brightly against the dark stone wall. He studied them for a moment, looking for any difference in their appearance from when last he'd looked and, when he found none, he turned his attention to two other names.

Daphne Annabelle Greengrass and Susan Amelia Bones. No longer did they shine the same gold as their bond mates. Instead, like an Aurora, the two names literally glowed with an ever shifting and changing mixture of green and auburn light. At no time was there even a moment where the two colors were truly separate from each other. They were mixed, blended together, likely never to be separate again.

"So, those two completed the bond first," he muttered to himself.

It likely wouldn't be much longer before the others joined and all that meant to Croaker was that the time of The Hydra was fast approaching.

He glanced down at the missive that he held in one hand from Director Bones and allowed himself to feel some small hope. Potter and his girls had agreed to a meeting after they finished school for the year. One small ray of hope in the darkness, at least.

He turned and left the room, and as the door closed behind him, green and auburn light continued to cast the empty space in a soft, ethereal glow.

Minutes ticked past when, suddenly, the empty room wasn't empty any longer. Without a sound or flash of light or any other telltale sign that might indicate the use of magic, two people appeared before the wall.

One, a male a few inches shorter than his companion looked curiously about as they appeared, light hazel eyes missing nothing as they scanned the room. He appeared to be of European descent, but, at a glance, identifying his nationality was an impossibility. His face was handsome, angular, and framed by shaggy, light brown hair that fell to his shoulders in an unkempt mop fit to put a certain raven haired wizard to shame.

His companion was a statuesque beauty. Tall and slender with alabaster skin that seemed to reflect the light dancing across her. Violet colored eyes peered out of an oval face with high cheekbones and a narrow chin. She had a pert, slightly upturned nose and deep red lips that contrasted beautifully with her hair, black as a raven's wing, that cascaded in waves down to the middle of her back.

Both were dressed quite comfortably in muggle jeans and t-shirts. The man's shirt was black with yellow lettering across his chest that read:

 _I hear voices…_

 _...and they don't like you._

Her shirt was a simple emerald green item that hugged her figure enticingly and left little doubt that she was in excellent shape and stunning in her appearance.

"Oh, look!" the woman breathed in a pleasant alto. "Two of them have already completed the bond.

"Well, of course they did," the man groused, his voice a smooth tenor. "That _is_ why we came back to this Circe be damned cesspool of a country."

"Oh, stop it," she admonished him, scowling at his irritated response. "You're just as excited as I am, you just don't want to admit it."

He grumbled something under his breath but did not respond otherwise and crossed his tanned arms over his chest, glaring at the woman.

"Susan and Daphne," she said, rolling the names slowly, as if tasting them. "Such pretty names."

He grunted. "But that Hermione, what were her parents thinking?"

"Hermione is a beautiful name," she argued.

"Bet she's a pretentious swot," he grumbled and she, none too gently, smacked his shoulder.

"Now, you stop that," she snapped. "No forming opinions before we've observed them, you know the rules."

"We _wrote_ the rules," he tried to argue, but she would would hear none of it and, a few moments later, the room was empty again. Their departure was just as silent and sudden as their arrival had been and no one would ever know that they had ever even been there.

#####

The first week back at school had come, and gone. Classes had gotten harder than ever, but Harry and his friends were still ahead of the curve. Studying ahead certainly had its advantages and he was grateful that Hermione had talked him out of focusing only on defense during their spell practice. As a result, they already knew the majority of the spells the were supposed to learn and that made the practical portions of their wand based classes much easier, and left them a little more time to focus on other classes like Runes and Arithmancy.

Tonks had seemed to slide right back into the routine with nary a misstep, joining them for their morning workouts as well as evening spell practice and she'd actually upped the level of the workouts that Neville and Harry were doing, saying they weren't exhausted enough after each morning.

She trained with them, keeping pace with the boys while the girls were just a touch behind since they'd started much later. She attended every class with them, except for Hermione's extra courses, and had, generally, been accepted by the rest of the school a a part of the group that had previously been made up only of Harry, Neville, and the three girls. Yes, Blaise, Hannah, Tracey, and Luna joined them on occasion, but it was those five that had been thick as thieves from the beginning.

To Harry's disappointment, there had still been no sign of Sirius, something Tonks had been quick to tell him in a quiet whisper at dinner the night they returned on the Hogwarts Express. She and Kingsley had taken shifts watching the map over the break but never saw a sign of the elusive animagus.

Harry shoved every worry aside, though, when they entered the Hospital Wing on their first Sunday morning back in the school for their weekly check in with Madam Pomfrey. Susan and Daphne had both seemed increasingly nervous as the week had worn on though neither he or Hermione had questioned them on it, and he wondered if perhaps they might find out what was going on, soon.

As usual, Madam Pomfrey started her examination with Hermione, then Harry, and both were exactly as they'd been since the end of the previous year, their own soul surrounding them in a brilliant aura of light and there were three different masses of energy mashed together just over their hearts with twisting veins spreading out through their entire bodies.

It wasn't until Susan stepped forward and the spell was cast on her that they saw something different. Over her heart there were only two lights, gold and silver, with their extending veins branching out as ever before. But the aura of her own soul had changed. No longer was it a solid auburn. Instead, her soul was a mixture of her well known auburn and Daphne's easily recognizable green. It was a mesmerizing sight, a shifting, ever changing aurora with no delineation between the two. Both colors seemed to bleed and fade into each other leaving nothing to show that they supposedly belonged to two separate individuals.

When it faded, Harry, Hermione, and Madam Pomfrey were left staring in amazed wonder at Susan and Daphne.

"Well," Madam Pomfrey finally said after a few moments of awkward silence. "Lady Greengrass, if you will?"

Daphne and Susan traded places and, when the spell was cast, she appeared exactly as Susan had. The two were identical.

Sighing, Poppy conjured herself a chair at the foot of their beds and sat, studying them calmly for several long, contemplative seconds.

"So," she said. "Obviously enough, something has changed, again."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," Susan said, almost timidly.

"Care to explain what happened?"

This was the part that had been worrying them. Susan and Daphne looked to each other, concerned over how this would be received. Before returning to the school, they had managed to get an hour to talk to Healer Gant, and he had been less than helpful with his advice, in their opinion. According to him, letting Harry know that the two girls were in love might actually slow his own growth into their relationship.

First, being raised in an abusive home and told, constantly, how worthless he was and how no one loved or cared for him, it'd taken two and a half years already, just to get him used to the idea that people actually cared about him and wanted the best for him. As well as he'd responded to Amelia's caring guardianship and the girls and the rest of their friends companionship, he was still not in the mindset of love.

Also, raised in the muggle world, the idea of multiple partners probably wouldn't immediately occur to him and he might automatically classify them as 'off limits' in his own head, not wanting to interfere with the girls relationship.

But if they kept it from him, that could, and likely would, do even more damage in the long run. He could retreat behind his walls and stop sharing the stories of his scars with them, or worse, he could retreat even further, back to how he'd been in first year, barely letting on to anyone how he was feeling except when he was angry.

When Daphne asked if they could just tell him that all four of them could be together, he was insistent that they not do that.

 _"Look, I understand you want him with you, you want him to know how much you care for him, but a kid like Harry… he still doesn't understand what he feels, and he's not the type to act on feelings he doesn't really understand. He'll be more likely to pull away. It's a difficult situation, but you really have to wait for some more overt signs from him that he's ready."_

Of course, he'd been unforthcoming on what kind of signs they should have been looking for and neither of them were entirely certain either, short of him pushing one of them up against a wall and snogging them silly, they weren't completely certain what to look for.

"Ladies?" Madam Pomfrey prompted and both girls shook themselves out of their thoughts, exchanging a look for a moment before Daphne got out of bed and moved over to sit beside Susan.

"Ummm… on Christmas Eve, Daphne was nearly bound to a contract with the Malfoy Family," Susan started the explanation.

"Our friends, including Blaise Zabini, from Slytherin, worked out the details to a plan that Harry came up with to stop that from happening," Daphne continued before Susan took over again.

"We found out about it a month before we came back for this year and we've been working on a way to get her away since then, which worked. Christmas Eve, Harry pulled off the plan and that's why Daphne is the Lady Greengrass, now."

"By the time we went to bed that night, I realized that I had almost lost them, and they almost lost me," Daphne said and Susan wrapped one arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "I hated that feeling, and I realized that I really do love Susan, and I didn't want to stay quiet until the next emergency came up, in case I didn't get a chance to tell her."

"And I've known since the end of first year that I loved Daphne, so when she finally admitted it to me, I told her I loved her, too, and kissed her," Susan explained, her cheeks a light pink as she took up the telling of their story. "When we opened our eyes there was this bright auburn and green light around us that faded away after a few seconds."

Hermione was almost bouncing in place on her bed, giddy with excitement for her bond mates, but she managed to refrain from launching herself at the two of them for what would have been an epic Hermione level hug while still in the presence of the mothering mediwitch. Harry had, at first, appeared a little wide eyed at the mention of the two girls kissing, but quickly recovered from his surprise.

"And have you noticed anything different about your connection since then?" Madam Pomfrey asked in his usual business-like manner, not even batting an eye at the girls intimacy.

"Well… we have noticed that not even Occlumency can keep us from feeling each other's emotions anymore," Daphne said. "Before, we could block our feelings without affecting the bond itself, like we used to, but not since that night. We're completely open books to each other, now."

"And we can feel when the other is close by, and where," Susan added. "Like, if Daphne and I were both in different parts of the Library, I could point to her without even being able to see her and I know I'd be able to find her pretty easily if I needed to. I don't think there's been anything else, that we've noticed, at least." Susan looked to the blond pressed against her side as Daphne nodded in agreement.

Poppy asked a few more questions, some of which had all four teens blushing a brilliant scarlet, but, eventually, she let them go after securing a promise from all three girls to return the next day for a meeting with her. She would have done so immediately, but already had obligations to meet that day that precluded her from any meetings other than a medical emergency. Something about the way she spoke of this meeting filled the girls with a sensation akin to dread but they knew they weren't getting out of it so they simply agreed, as calmly as they could, and took their leave the moment Madam Pomfrey said they could go.

They hadn't even stepped five feet out of the Wing before the doors closed and Hermione finally got to hug Daphne and Susan.

"Oh, this is wonderful, I'm so excited for you two," she practically squealed, babbling energetically at them both as she crushed first one girl and then the other. A hand on her shoulder calmed her, slightly, and Harry stepped forward, drawing both girls into a hug with one arm wrapped around each of them.

"I'm very happy for the both of you," he murmured, quietly. "You deserve someone to make you happy." Some of their nervousness over his reaction bled away as he hugged them. They could feel that he really was genuinely happy for them. Beneath that, however, they could feel a sense of lost confusion, apprehension, and a touch of melancholy that had them both fighting back the urge to drag him to the Room, sit him down, and explain to him in careful detail that all four of them could be together.

Their conversation with Healer Gant, and the emotions they felt from Harry stopped them, however. They knew Harry, just as well as Hermione did and the three of them knew him better than anyone in the world. He was going to have to come to some conclusions on his own, without being pressured into anything. He would understand, eventually, that he wasn't too broken to be loved, he wasn't worthless, or unworthy.

He would get there, but they needed to be patient with him and remind him and Hermione both that they were still central figures in their lives and they would not be losing any of the closeness that the four shared. That was never going to change as far as they were concerned.

He finally stepped back from them, smiling at their careful assurances and started down the corridor.  
"Come on," he called back over his shoulder. "We've still got work to do and I think some of our friends might like to hear the good news."

The rest of that Sunday was spent celebrating with their closest friends, with the understanding that not a word of Susan and Daphne's relationship was to be spread anywhere. The wizarding world still had too many prejudices and while they didn't mind their friends knowing, they knew that if the general public got hold of that information they would be the recipient of more than a few howlers and disgusted looks.

Fred and George simply lamented the fact that they'd never get a chance at either of the young beauties, until Harry asked how their girlfriends, Alicia and Angelina, were doing and the twins paled and fell silent, something that had the rest of them roaring with laughter for some time.

#####

"Lord Potter?"

Harry turned from his dinner that Monday evening to look to Professor McGonagall who had come up behind him where he and his friends were sitting at the Hufflepuff table, once again.

"Professor?" he asked, politely while the girls sitting on either side of him stopped eating but didn't turn.

Wordlessly, she held out a folded piece of parchment which he unfolded and quickly read over the note, written in Dumbledore's loopy script.

 _Lord Potter-_

 _I would greatly appreciate it if you would meet me this evening in my office after dinner. Of course, your bond mates are more than welcome to accompany you. Since Halloween night I have been working on a solution to a problem that concerns us both, as well as a certain canine._

 _Albus Dumbledore_

 _Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

 _By the way, I have recently discovered the muggle confection known as a Mars Bar, and I find myself wondering if you have ever had the pleasure?_

After finishing the note, he folded it back up and tucked it into his pocket.

"Thank you, Professor. Please let the Headmaster know I'll be there."

She nodded, curtly then turned and walked back to the staff table.

They quickly fell back to finishing their food so they would be ready to go by the time the Headmaster was finished eating with his own meal.

When they saw him stand and exit through a door at the back of the Hall, they were finished and didn't feel much like waiting for dessert, so they told their friends they would see them later and started making their way to the Headmaster's Office.

"Come in," Dumbledore called, just before Harry knocked on the thick door leading into the office. He quickly pulled the door opened and the four of them filed inside, sitting in a set of chairs that were already there waiting for them before the large wooden desk.

"Thank you for coming so quickly," the Headmaster said after they were seated and his usual offer of candy was politely declined.

"Your note said that this was to help Sirius," Harry responded. "What can I do?"

"Yes, quickly to the point. The biggest problem, I'm sure we can agree, is Minister Fudge's insistence of Sirius' guilt and absolute refusal to consider any other possibility. If Madam Bones or any of her Aurors go to him with the knowledge that he was never given a trial, then their careers will be at risk, and, possibly, their freedom, as he expressly forbade any investigation and had all the records sealed. The only reason that Miss Tonks was able to access the records was because she went looking personally, and under the guise of a clerk in the records department."

"So far, what you're saying seems to indicate that it will be impossible to do anything."

"No, Lady Greengrass," he said, his twinkling blue eyes turning toward her. "Not impossible, merely difficult."

"Then what is it that you had planned, Sir?" Harry asked, trying not to sound as impatient as he felt.

"As I see it, there are two possible courses of action that we could take. However, each one requires that Mister Black be in our custody, or that of Madam Bones and her two trusted Aurors. Any other capture would be most unfortunate, and, most likely, would end with a Dementor's Kiss being applied before we would have time to act. So, to start, we need to get the kiss-on-sight order rescinded, and to do that we must get the public on our side by getting the word out that Sirius never received a trial."

"How are we supposed to do that? It's already been said that the Prophet would never publish an article like that and Amelia would get in trouble if the word got out."

"Yes, Madam Bones would find herself in a bit of a sticky situation if such an article were to be written without anything to deflect suspicion from her."

"And you have a way to deflect that suspicion, now, that wasn't in place before?" Susan asked, curiously.

"Indeed, I do, Miss Bones. On November 1st, I went to the Ministry and requested a copy of the arrest and trial records for Sirius Black on behalf of Lord Potter."

The twinkling in the aged wizards blue eyes had reached a new level of brilliance as the four of them blinked, bewildered by his statement.

"But… you said that the Minister had the records sealed," Harry pointed out, confused.

"True. However, the Minister's Office does not have quite the authority to do that, entirely on its own, and in a way that the seal cannot be circumvented. Without a decision by the Wizengamot to seal the records, those records can be ordered unsealed by the Chief Warlock, which, as it so happens, is me."

Dumbledore looked inordinately pleased with himself, which had the four teens smiling back at his behavior before they even realized what they were doing.

"What was that about asking for them on my behalf?" Harry asked.

"Ah, yes, I do apologize for not consulting you beforehand, but I felt, under the circumstances, that you would not object. Since one of the primary concerns is Madam Bones getting dragged under the lumos, as it were, I spun a bit of a tale of a young man, faced with the knowledge that his families betrayer had escaped and wanting to know 'why?'. Why did a man, frequently described as a brother to James Potter in all but blood, choose to betray him? Your hope was that the transcript of his interrogation and trial might provide some answers."

"And by saying that the request came from Harry," Hermione mused, "you manage to keep Amelia's name out of it entirely. That's brilliant, Sir."

"Precisely, Miss Granger. Now, imagine our surprise when it is discovered that there was no interrogation, and no trial. How could this have happened? Without a trial, there's no way to say that Sirius is actually guilty, and there is no explanation for his answers for the only surviving member of the family he helped destroy."

He winced at Harry's frown.

"I am sorry for that bit of imagery, Lord Potter, but trust me, that pageantry will play well and get public opinion on your side. I do not wish to dredge up the painful past, but in this case it can only help your eventual goal of getting Sirius the trial he never had and seeing that, if he truly is innocent, he is freed as he should be, and if he isn't, then we can be certain that the man deserved to spend his time in Azkaban."

Harry sighed and nodded. "No, I understand the value of it, Professor. I don't like it, but I do understand."

"So, getting this information to the public would help us get the masses on our side?" Hermione asked and Susan nodded.

"Right. Sirius was the Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. The general public, and the members of the Wizengamot will be in an uproar at even the possibility that he might have been sent to prison without a trial. The Blacks are one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and they'll be furious. Fudge's office will end up bombarded with so many howlers that he won't have any choice but to call off the kiss-on-sight order and see about getting him a trial."

"Well, all that sounds perfect, but you said there were two possible courses of action. This sounds like the only thing we really need to do," Harry pointed out.

"Alas, if only that were true. By getting the kiss-on-sight order removed, that should reduce the danger Sirius is under. However that would not prevent, say a 'rogue Dementor' from kissing him. Or even, once captured, him being killed in an escape attempt." Dumbledore actually made air quotes with his fingers when he said 'rogue Dementor' to indicate what he thought of that possibility.

"So what can we do?"

"We need to capture him, once again, or Madam Bones does. If he is captured by Madam Bones or either of her Aurors, you, Harry, could offer him House Protection and therefore he would become your responsibility. It would be impossible for Fudge to do anything to him without a great deal of heat coming down on his head. And if he is captured by the staff, I could, possibly, let it slip that he might ask for Sanctuary. If he requests Sanctuary, then he becomes a ward of the school, and cannot be removed by anyone save the Headmaster. Which I would only do to bring him to the court for his trial, and only on the day of said trial."

Harry shared a grin with his girls, each of them feeling much better about their chances of getting Sirius the justice he'd been denied.

"Okay, if the Prophet won't publish anything on this, though, who do we go to?"

"Don't you have a young friend who's father is the owner and editor of his own news magazine?" Dumbledore asked, a gentle smile just visible behind his beard.

They frowned at that for a moment before Hermione perked up. "Luna?" she asked. "You're talking about the Quibbler aren't you?"

"Indeed, I am."

"But…" Hermione looked helplessly at her bond mates. "I'm sorry, you know I love Luna to death, she's a sweetheart, but the Quibbler isn't very widely read, and most people don't take it seriously, at all. Most see it as a bit of a joke, to be honest."

"True, but, as you've noticed, the vast majority of our society does tend to believe what they read, without thinking too much on the facts."

Daphne, Susan, and Hermione winced at that as Harry's face darkened. When the article about their bond had come out over the summer, they had been sent a number of howlers and even several booby trapped bits of mail from incensed witches all over the country. Luckily the wards at the Boneyard wouldn't allow malicious packages or letters to be delivered and the only thing they actually received were insulting letters with no charms or enchantments on them, and those had been bad enough.

"Also, I imagine that a certain wealthy young Lord would be more than able to pay to have a copy sent to every wizarding household in the country, along with every Hogwarts student," added, looking meaningfully at Harry. "That would more than assure that the story was spread far and wide."

Harry was nodding in agreement before he even realized it. "We need to see Luna," he said, and the girls quickly agreed as Dumbledore leaned back in his seat, looking even more pleased with himself.

They spent the next twenty minutes working out how they might approach Luna and what they could say for the article before they were ready to head off to their next meeting with Professor McGonagall. Before leaving, Harry stopped and turned back to the Headmaster.

"Sir?" he asked, and Dumbledore looked up from a stack of parchment he'd placed in front of him on his desk.

"Lord Potter?"

"Thank you, Sir," he said. "I'll admit, this all goes a long way toward helping restore some of my trust in you. You didn't have to do all of this and I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate it."

"It is my honest pleasure, Lord Potter. Such a miscarriage of justice I have never seen or even heard of before. I could not, in good conscience, sit by and not do my absolute best to see this matter come to the best possible resolution for all involved. You have my word, I will continue to work on it, and I am also working on a proposal to pitch several of your suggestions for improvements to the school to the Board of Governors as well. We can do much good, working together, you and I. I hope to see us both making a positive difference in our world many decades from now."

Harry nodded. "Goodnight, Sir. And please, I think it's time you can drop the 'Lord' at least in private."

Dumbledore's smile was broad and beaming.

"Goodnight to you as well, Mister Potter."

#####

It had been two more weeks since their meeting with Dumbledore and the day after they'd tracked down Luna and went over the plan with her. She'd been thrilled for the opportunity to write an article for them and that weekend they'd sat down and worked out the entire thing. It was supposed to be a rush issue that would be delivered in the next few days and Harry, for one, was interested to see how it would be received. Hopefully, Sirius might even see it and would come to the castle to turn himself in.

The girls didn't seem to think that was too likely, but he still had his fingers crossed for a bit of good luck.

All that aside, it had been two weeks, and Harry Potter was confused.

Confused was probably putting things a little simply. In point of fact, he felt completely and utterly bewildered. To make matters worse, the source of his perplexing confusion was not one that he could avoid, even if he'd wanted to.

He growled, softly, and shoved his Runes book away as he realized that his thoughts had wandered again and he wasn't getting any of his work accomplished. He lifted his head and looked across the room toward the very reason that he was so confused.

Reasons, really.

Three of them.

Daphne, Hermione, and Susan.

To be fair, Hermione was less a source of confusion for him than the other two, but she was still confusing to him in her own right, and thus he included her as one of his problems, for the moment.

First, his mind kept casting back to the day before that meeting with the Headmaster. The day they discovered that Daphne and Susan had completed their portion of the bond. They'd said that they admitted they loved each other on Christmas Eve, but Daphne had kissed him just over a week later, on New Years Eve.

As if that wasn't confusing enough. Daphne had actually kissed him! He still couldn't wrap his brain around it. Why? Why would she kiss him, of all people? He was broken and in no way worth anything more than the friendship they'd already shown him. Did Susan know? If she didn't, didn't that mean that Daphne had cheated on her by kissing him? Or were they not actually together, as in, in a relationship?

On the one hand, he wasn't sure that it was any of his business and maybe he should just stay out of it. On the other hand, though, he didn't know if he should talk to Susan and tell her what'd happened. He didn't want to hurt Susan if she didn't know about it, but he also didn't want to keep something like this from her. And he still couldn't convince himself that Daphne would ever intentionally do anything to harm any of them, so there had to be something else going on, but what?

And then there was Hermione, who added her own bit of confusion to the chaos that was already rampaging its way through his skull. Hermione was acting differently around him since their return to the school.

Actually, all three girls were acting differently. Not a significant departure, but enough of one that he noticed. For quite a while, all three girls would hug him, or kiss his cheek for one reason or another, and he'd long come to appreciate and even greatly enjoy this affection from his bond mates. But lately, he'd noticed some differences in how they went about it. The hugs seemed to be lasting longer than they used to. They felt more intimate, somehow, in a way he couldn't quite describe. And the kisses on his cheeks seemed to be getting closer to his lips each time they did it, sometimes just barely missing the corner of his mouth by mere millimeters.

Honestly, it was starting to drive him to distraction and he just didn't know what to do about it.

He started a moment later when a rolled up bit of parchment bounced off the side of his head and he turned, glaring at the brown haired boy sitting at the table with him.

"What?" he almost snapped, but kept his voice down so as not to draw the girl's, or Tonks' attention, where they were working on something on the other side of the Room of Requirement. Whatever it was seemed to include a fair amount of giggling and whispering and he wasn't really sure he wanted to know what they were talking about.

"Mate, you've been off in your own little world for a while now. I spent five minutes trying to get your attention."

Harry flushed slightly and hunched his shoulders without realizing it.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Don't be sorry," Neville said. "What's wrong? You never get like that."

Harry peered at Neville, studying his friend, carefully. Should he unload his concerns on him?

Neville had said, on more than one occasion, that Harry could talk to him about anything, and that Neville's lips would be sealed. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to talk to someone, since trying to figure things out on his own was driving him 'round the twist. And besides, everyone did keep telling him that he needed to talk to people more.

Abruptly, he stood and started packing his supplies into his bag.

"Everything all right, there, Harry?" Tonks asked from her spot by the girls.

"Fine," he said. "Just can't concentrate, so Neville and I were gonna go for a walk."

"We were?" Neville asked, an amused look on his face.

"Yeah, Nev," Harry practically growled, "we were."

"Just checking." With that, Neville started packing away his own books and parchments.

"I'll let Shack know, so he can keep watch on you with the map." Tonks pressed the tip of her wand to her throat and muttered a few words before she turned and cast her patronus at the nearest wall. "Well, have fun, boys."

The two of them waved to the four girls and quickly stopped by the dorms to drop off their bags before heading out onto the grounds. Neville was bundled up against the January cold in his heaviest winter cloak, scarf, gloves, and a thick jumper under his robes and still looked a little cold.

Harry had his dragon hide boots, a pair of worn, comfortable jeans, and one of his black long sleeved shirts under a simple jacket.

"Aren't you cold?" Neville asked as they crunched their way across the grounds through the ankle deep snow toward the lake and Harry shrugged.

"Not really. Madam Pomfrey thinks it's because of the feather in my arm. Phoenixes are creatures of fire, so I guess the cold just isn't as bad to me as it is to other people."

After walking silently for about five minutes, Neville finally had enough and turned to his best friend.

"All right, Harry, the mystery is fascinating and all, but I can't even try to help you if you don't start talking, he pointed out, reasonably.

Harry's shoulders hunched beneath his jacket and he frowned.

"I don't know, Nev," he sighed. "I'm just… confused, I guess."

"Okay… confused about what?"

Harry muttered something, his cheeks reddening more than Neville thought the cold air would account for and cocked his head to the sighed, staring intently at his friend.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Nothing. This was stupid, let's just head back inside, Nev."

"Harry," Neville said in a sharp tone he'd rarely used. "Look, I don't know what's eating you, and maybe I won't be any help at all, but we're here, and I'm offering. So just spit it out already."

Looking extremely nervous, Harry shifted uncomfortably for a few moments before hissing out in a low voice, "Daphne kissed me."

Neville blinked. Of all the possible things he might have thought could be bothering his friend, getting kissed by a beautiful girl would likely never have made the list.

"Okay, now I'm confused. How is a pretty girl kissing you causing all this trouble?"

Harry gaped at the other boy for a minute.

"Did you forget us telling you and our other friends that Daphne and Susan are in love?"

Neville shook his head. "No, my memory is pretty rotten at times, but it's not that bad."

"Well that was Christmas Eve when they told each other that. Daphne kissed me on New Years Eve, right at midnight."

Neville quirked a brow in Harry's direction.  
"I'm still not seeing the problem here. Give me a little more to work with, would ya, Harry?"

The dark haired teen groaned in frustration. "Neville, come on. Daphne kissed me a week after telling Susan she loved her. If she loves Susan, what's she doing kissing me? Doesn't that mean she cheated by kissing me? And why in the hell would she want to with me, anyway? And on top of that all three of them have been acting weird lately…"

As Harry continued to ramble, Neville's mouth dropped open. By the time his friend was finished voicing his concerns he'd started cursing quietly under his breath. "Well, fuck," he finally said and turned his attention back to Harry, who was staring at him as if he'd just grown a second head. "All right, I think there's still a few aspects of wizarding culture that we've missed…"

He trailed off, frowning in thought and Harry did his level best to hold his tongue and simply wait for Neville to get his thoughts in order.

When he finally did, he turned fully to face his friend and gestured to a large rock nearby and the two of them took a seat.

"Okay, look, you realize there's a really, really simple solution to this whole thing, right?" Neville asked and held back a groan when Harry gave him a blank stare back. "Mate, just talk to the girls."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think I can do that. Not yet, at least," he muttered and Neville chuckled quietly.

"Just like last year. Man faces Dark Lords and basilisks and giant three headed dogs, but a girl has you running for the hills."

Neville either didn't notice, or didn't mind the punch to the arm that Harry gave him but reigned in his amusement to try to help.

"You could try talking to Amelia, you know? She is your guardian."

"And one of the girls involved is her niece, her only family. I don't want to cause trouble."

"Have you considered the possibility that maybe they like you?"

Harry blinked at that. "Well, yeah I know they like me. We're friends. Probably closer than most people could say about their friends."

Neville sighed. "Look, Mate, I really think that you just need to talk to them. I could offer suggestions or theories all day, but until you actually talk to them you'll never know what's going on. Anything we might come up with could be completely off the mark. You want to vent, rant, just let out the worries on your mind, I'm here for you. But I really think you've only got one thing you can do, at this point, to clear this all up."

With another groan, Harry flopped back on the rock, staring up at the grey sky above them as Neville sympathetically patted his shoulder.

#####

"Harry!"

"Oof!"

"Thank you so much. Father said this is going to be the best run for the Quibbler ever! Why didn't you tell me you paid to have so many issues sent out?"

"Urghh…"

"Luna, honey, maybe you should get off of him and he might be able to answer you?" Hermione suggested, doing her best to hold back her laughter while beside her, Daphne and Susan were openly giggling, leaning on each other for support at the sight of their bond mate, lying on the floor in the entrance hall beneath a wildly excited Luna Lovegood.

As they'd approached, Harry had been talking about the new runic sequences they were expecting to see in class that day. Aside from Defense, Runes was rapidly becoming one of his favorite classes. It wasn't quite as useful in a pinch as Charms and Transfiguration, but with some advanced planning, Runes could do things that most other branches of magic couldn't hold a candle to and he was quite enjoying himself.

As such, he hadn't been paying attention when a tiny blond missile had slammed into his midsection at significant speed, sending both tumbling to the stone floor under their feet.

"Hi… Luna…" he groaned as the excitable blond climbed off of him.

"Come," she said, grabbing his hand as soon as his feet were under him and started dragging him into the Great Hall. "The issues were just delivered and Hedwig is waiting for you to come collect yours." She paused for a moment, staring absently up at the enchanted ceiling in thought. "I wonder how she managed to get it away from the delivery owl," she muttered before shrugging and continued to drag Harry toward the Ravenclaw table. Pushing him down onto the bench she waited, impatiently, for him to turn as his girls and Neville found their seats, bouncing happily on her toes.

"You guys mind?" Harry asked, arching a brow at his snickering and giggling friends and bond mates.

"No, Harry," Neville choked out. "We don't mind at all."

Rolling his eyes he turned his attention to the beautiful snowy owl standing on the table in front of him and gently stroked her feathers.

"Morning, Hedwig," he murmured and she let out a soft bark, leaning into his hand for a moment before she straightened up and held out one leg to drop the rolled up magazine she was clutching in her talons into his outstretched hand. Harry thanked her, handed her a few pieces of bacon, and unrolled the magazine.

On the cover were two pictures, one of Sirius from his early days as an Auror, just before the end of the war, and the other was his wanted poster. The difference between the two images, when placed side by side like that, were truly startling. The one showed a man of vitality. He was healthy, fit, cheerful, if the mischievous grin on his face was anything to go by. His dark eyes sparkled with mirth and even Harry could tell that he looked good in his dress uniform. The second picture with his emaciated frame, wild eyes, and unkempt, filthy appearance was as night was to day from the first image.

Quickly, he opened up the issue, found the article, and started reading.

 _Sirius Black. Mad Man? Or Victim?_

 _By,_

 _Luna Lovegood_

 _Much has been said in recent months about recent Azkaban Escapee Sirius Orion Black. It has been said that he betrayed James and Lily Potter and their son, Harry Potter, to You-Know-Who. It has been said that he led the Dark Lord to their hidden home to have them murdered. It has even been said that he was the right hand of the Dark Lord, a mad dog, a killer, a mad man._

 _What has not been spoken of is what he took from a young man that many in our society consider a hero and a savior for that night just over twelve years ago when James and Lily Potter lost their lives and left their fifteen-month-old son behind. With Black's escape from Azkaban, Lord Potter found he had questions. Questions he had previously had no recourse to address._

 _At his request, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore traveled to the Ministry Records Department in search of the transcripts of both the interrogation and criminal trial of one Sirius Black. Imagine, readers, the Headmasters surprise when he found no record of any trial. No record means that no trial was ever conducted. More than that, no official charges were ever filed in Black's case._

 _Ministry law allows them to hold a suspect for a maximum of 30 days without charges. If no charges are filed then the suspect must be set free. It is clear, that in this instance, whether Black is guilty or not, his incarceration was an illegal act on the part of the Ministry. The Heir of a Most Ancient and Noble House, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight has spent twelve years in the worst prison in the world and it was done against the very laws of our country._

 _And now, Minister Fudge has a kiss-on-sight order out for Black. This can only be seen as a deliberate act of attempted murder of the Scion of one of our societies founding families and I for one hope that Minister Fudge will act in all due diligence, rescind the order, and get Sirius Black the trial that he was denied twelve years ago. Obviously, Minister Fudge was not in office when this gross miscarriage of justice occurred and cannot be held responsible, himself. Now that he knows, I hope to see him act to correct this tragedy._

The article went on to detail the information that Harry had gleaned from his mother's journals and the letters left for him from both of his parents as well as details about Sirius' brief Auror career, the multiple battles he participated in and listed the names of more than a dozen criminal wizards that he had either arrested himself, or assisted in their capture as part of a team.

"Luna, this is fantastic," he said, drawing the little blond into an enthusiastic hug.

Flushing to the roots of her hair, but smiling widely, Luna skipped her way around the table to take a seat next to Cedrella who was grinning knowingly at Harry as he skimmed through the article again. She cast knowing looks in the other girl's directions and Daphne, Susan, and Hermione could only roll their eyes at their oblivious bond mate before turning their attention back to their own read through of the article.

"Any guesses on how the Ministry is going to react?" Harry asked after they had all finished reading.

"From what Auntie has said, I'd bet we'll see Fudge showing up here and making threats at some point.," Susan muttered.

"Harry, you're going to have to be Lord Potter, if and when he demands to speak to you," Daphne pointed out and Harry made a disgusted face at the thought.

"I really hate all of that crap," he groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

"But you're getting very good at it, at least," Neville pointed out, ignoring how Harry, very maturely, stuck his tongue out at him before turning his attention to his breakfast.

Around the, and throughout the Hall, conversation was flying fast and thick as most of the student population could barely concentrate on eating in favor of discussing the Quibbler article. Harry could feel the many eyes on him and ignored them as best he could.

One thing he absolutely could not ignore, however, was the looks he received from Professor Lupin in class that day. Nor could he ignore the request to stay after the rest of them were dismissed. A quick look sent his friends on instead of waiting for him and, as the door closed behind the last student, Harry slung his back over his shoulder and walked down to stand in front of the teachers desk.

"Moony?" he asked when the seated professor failed to look up from the magazine spread out on his desk.

"Is it true?" the man finally asked, raising pain filled brown eyes to peer into Harry's glowing green irises. "You found some letters, and your mum's journals?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Mum left a chest with my Aunt Petunia, her sister. I collected it summer before second year and spent the year reading through them. In her seventh year and in some letters that she and my dad left… well it just made the story about what Black supposedly did not make any sense to me. Right when we got home at the end of last year I asked Amelia about it and she said she'd look into it but Fudge insisted there was nothing to investigate and had the records sealed so I went to the Headmaster to see if he could help." He shrugged.

"I don't know. He could be guilty, it's possible. But there's enough holes in the story, enough things don't add up that I'm not sure we know what actually happened that night, or who was responsible. If he's innocent, I want to know. If he's guilty, I want to know why. Why would he betray the people that always talked about him as if he was family?"

"Dumbledore said that he was in the castle on Halloween, and you and your friends got mixed up in it somehow. How'd that happen?"

Harry winced, still smarting from the telling off he'd received and a little ashamed of his own actions, but he told the story anyway, dropping into a chair he pulled in front of the desk. He explained how he got his hands on the map and saw Black on the grounds and the letter he wrote to Amelia all the way up to the confrontation with Black in the corridor outside the entrance into Gryffindor Tower. "It was really a shock to find out that he was the dog that Neville found in Hogsmeade. I checked, Black never registered as an animagus."

"No," Remus said, a small smile on his face. "No, they never did register."

"They?"

Moony blinked, focusing on Harry for a moment before cursing under his breath.

"I must be getting old," he muttered. "I never should have said that but… well, I guess they can't get in trouble for it anymore. Sirius, Peter, and your dad all became Animagi in our fifth year in order to… well… they thought it would be a laugh."

"They wanted to help you on the full moon?" Harry asked with a knowing smirk and Remus started, almost violently, in his seat. "One of my closest friends is considered the smartest witch of her generation, and the rest of us aren't exactly stupid. When Snape assigned that Werewolf essay a while back, we figured it out. I had a little help though, mum's later journals mention you had a 'furry little problem' but didn't give any details. Honestly, until we did the research for the essay I thought you had an overly aggressive pet rabbit, or something."

As he'd spoken, surprise had given way to amusement and Remus couldn't hold back a few chuckles. "We had a classmate that said almost exactly the same thing," he admitted before giving Harry a wary look. "And you're not bothered…"

Harry shook his head. "Not in the slightest. Maybe because I didn't grow up hearing about werewolves as dark creatures or whatever other crap the Ministry spouts. As far as I'm concerned you're sick, and it flares up once in a while and people shouldn't be around you when it does. That's not the end of the world by any stretch and it doesn't change who you are at all."

"And again, nearly exactly what James said to me when they figured it out."

"So… Moony, on the map… that's cause of the werewolf thing, right?"

Moony nodded, a small grin on his lips. "Yeah, Sirius thought he was being clever with that."

"And Sirius, he's a big dog. So I imagine that explains Padfoot. What about Wormtail and Prongs? I know those were Pettigrew's and my dad's nicknames, but what were their forms?"

This time, Remus' smile was wider, and held a touch of pride and nostalgia. "Your dad, James was a stag. Twelve point set of antlers, tall and powerful. Between him and Sirius, they were able to control me when I would transform. And Peter, his form was a common brown rat. He was small enough that he could get close to the Whomping Willow and press the knot on the trunk that would stop the branches from swaying. The secret tunnel there leads to the Shrieking Shack in the village and that's where I would stay on the full moon. Until they learned to transform, then we started exploring the forest on those nights. We'd run through the forest and play around and they helped makes my last few years here as a student some of the best of my life."

While Remus reminisced, Harry frowned thoughtfully. The man's explanation twigged something at the back of Harry's mind. Something that he knew, immediately, was important, but he couldn't quite place a mental finger on exactly what it was.

"Harry?"

He blinked, startled from his thoughts and focused his attention back on his professor.

"Huh?"

"You were a million miles away."

"Oh… sorry, just something…" Harry sighed.

"Something in what you said is bugging me and I can't quite figure it out."

Remus arched a brow at him. "Did you want to try to work it out?"

"How?"

Turning, Remus picked up a piece of chalk and threw it to him before gesturing to the blackboard.  
"Write out your thoughts and we'll see what we come up with."

Harry hesitated for a moment before he shrugged and walked over to the board, staring thoughtfully at it for a moment before he started writing.

Toward the bottom he wrote **Dog. Stag. Rat,** then, higher up, he started building a timeline.

 **Oct 31st '81 Riddle attacks – Nov 3rd Black arrested, Pettigrew killed – Summer '93 Black escapes after reading Daily Prophet – Oct 2nd '93 Neville finds Snuffles in village – Oct 31st '93 Black attempts to break into Gryffin**

Harry suddenly stopped and stared at the words he was writing. Black tried to break into the tower. Why would he try to get into Gryffindor Tower when the place would be empty with every student being present at the Feast?

His eyes widened, mind spinning dizzyingly for a moment before grinding to a halt as a single, mad idea popped into his head.

"It would make sense," he muttered, staring blankly at the chalkboard. "It would be absolutely barmy… but… if they didn't even question Sirius, did they even investigate? Did they even try?"

He suddenly dropped the chalk and bolted from the room, snagging his bag on the run as he passed, completely ignoring the professor calling out for him as he threw the door open and burst out into the hall. A glance at his watch told him that Dinner was going to be served in just a few minutes and he turned a quick right and ran down two flights of stairs before hurrying down a side corridor, down another flight of stairs and through three hidden passages that lead him right to the entrance hall.

He slowed to a walk and glanced into the Great Hall from the doors but, seeing no signs of his friends, he waited at the door for them to arrive, tapping his foot impatiently. Students made their way past him, many giving him a strange look as they went, but he ignored them, his eyes fixed on the Grand Staircase, waiting for any sign of his friends, who finally appeared, with Professor Lupin in company after nearly ten minutes of waiting. They all looked as if they'd rushed their way there, and he waved them over, still scanning the growing stream of students that were making their way into the Hall.

"We need to go to the Room," he said, as soon as they reached him. "But we need the twins. Can anyone go to the Kitchens and bring back something for all of us to eat?"

"What's going on?" Daphne asked, voicing the question on all their minds.

"I think I figured something out but I want to see if you guys come to the same conclusion. If I'm right… well, if I'm right it could be huge and we'll need to talk to Shack, Amelia, Tonks, and the Headmaster as well."

"It might not be a good idea for us to disappear right now," Susan pointed out in a low murmur and the group turned to follow her line of sight. Outside the open door leading onto the grounds they could see a small parade of people making their way toward the castle. Even from that distance Harry easily was able to recognize the red hair and Auror robes belong to Amelia and in front of her, the lime green bowler hat that belonged to the Minister of Magic and he let out a groan.

"Merlin's bloody beard," he muttered, ignoring the swat on the shoulder that he received from Hermione for his language and took a moment to calm himself and think, finally coming to a new decision. "All right. Change of plans. This Saturday, after dinner, we'll get everyone in the Room. It'll be all of us, plus Blaise, the Headmaster, Amelia, and her Aurors. Moony, you're more than welcome to join us… actually, I'd insist on it, if possible. I think you'll have some information that'll help. Actually, that'll give me time to do some research too."

He nodded, and without any further word they entered the Great Hall and took their seats, waiting for the fireworks. Just as they sat, a thought occurred to Harry and he spun to face Luna.

"Luna," he hissed, getting her attention. "Can't they cause trouble for you since you wrote the article?"

Luna's head bobbed several times.

"Quite probably. But it's worth it if it helps you, Harry," she said in her usual breezy tones.

Harry violently shook his head.

"No, that's crap." He drew himself up straight in his spot on the bench. "Luna Celeste Lovegood, I, Lord Harry James Potter, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, offer you the protection of my House, to act as your guardian when your current guardian is either absent or unavailable and as your champion in matters of honor. Do you accept this offer?"

Silence descended over their portion of the table, a silence that spread as word was passed along until the entire Gryffindor table was staring at them, waiting for Luna's response.

Luna, for her part, was staring, open mouthed, in shock at Harry. He returned an even gaze of his own, though mentally he was pleading for her to hurry before the Minister arrived. A moment later she seemed to shake herself and sat up straighter in her own seat.

"I, Luna Celeste Lovegood, Heiress Presumptive of the Minor House of Lovegood, do accept the offer of Protection from Lord Harry James Potter, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter."

A flash of light lit their corner of the Hall and the Potter Crest appeared on the left shoulder of Luna's school robes as the vast majority of eyes turned from the staff table and the other three house tables toward them as people began to wonder what had just happened.

Before anyone else could question, the sound of footsteps echoed into the Great Hall through the large, open doors, and moments later the crowd from the Ministry arrived. At the front was Minister Fudge, his lime green bowler hat making him simple to identify and at his right elbow walked, or rather, waddled, a squat, ugly looking woman dressed entirely in a shocking shade of pink that honestly hurt Harry's eyes and next to him Susan hissed angrily at the sight of the woman.

"Umbridge," she growled, making the name sound like a curse and Harry arched a brow at the back of her head but chose not to question her about it, yet. It was very likely that he was going to be meeting this woman in the not too distant future so he decided he'd ask if there was a chance.

Behind the Minister was Amelia, her monocle firmly in place over her left eye and the sternest look on her face that Harry had ever seen as she glared at the back of the Ministers head and she was flanked by Auror Robards and Scrimgeour, both of whom they knew from previous years. Kingsley approached from the side and fell into step next to Amelia, murmuring quietly into her ear, and across the table, next to Neville, Cedrella shifted nervously in her seat, unsure if she should join them or not.

As the group passed them, Amelia glanced in their direction and gave a barely perceptible shake of her head to the disguised Auror, causing Tonks to settle back into her persona and simply observe with an expression of polite curiosity on her face.

The group reached the staff table and quiet words were exchanged with the Headmaster who nodded and stood, leading the entire group from the Great Hall and out one of the doors at the back, likely heading to the Headmaster's office. At the same time, Professor Flitwick jumped down from his seat and made his way down the length of the Gryffindor table, stopping behind Luna.

"Miss Lovegood? Your presence is required in the Headmaster's office."

She nodded, and when she stood, Harry followed.

"Lord Potter, only Miss Lovegood has been requested."

"I'm sorry, Professor, but that's just too damn bad. I have offered, and Miss Lovegood has accepted the Protection of House Potter. As her father is not present, and until he is present, I will represent her and there is absolutely nothing anyone can do about it, unless the Ministry would like to ignore even more of their own laws in order to try and stop me," Harry said, drawing himself up to his full height as he looked down at the diminutive professor.

Professor Flitwick's lips twitched, but he didn't smile, and instead offered only a nod. "I trust you know the way, or is my presence also required?"

"As Luna's Head of House here at school, it would probably be beneficial for you to be present as well."

"Then let us away, Lord Potter, Miss Lovegood."

Harry nodded to the rest of his friends and gave a brief squeeze back when Hermione grabbed his hand. Letting go, he and Luna followed the Professor, Harry spending the entire walk on his Occlumency shields and exercises, making sure that he would have the best possible chance of keeping his temper during the meeting. He didn't have high hopes that it was all going to be calm and reasonable, not with what he'd heard and seen of Cornelius Fudge.

"Come in."

Harry blinked, coming back to reality to note that the three of them had already reached the Headmasters office and, apparently, Professor Flitwick had either knocked, or the Headmaster had otherwise known they were there and called out from inside the office.

The door swung open and the three of them entered to find the already crowded office feeling only more so with the number of people crammed into it. Amelia and her Aurors stood to the left of the door while the Minister and the pink clad witch beside him occupied chairs set slightly to the right. As the door closed behind them, Luna and Harry stood in between, with Flitwick just behind and to the right of where Luna stood on Harry's right side.

The chatter of conversation came to an abrupt halt when they stopped, and Harry glanced at Amelia, who took one look at the crest on Luna's shoulder before giving him a small smile and a nod.

"You asked to see us Headmaster?" Harry asked, politely.

"We only wanted to talk to the Lovegood girl, Potter," Fudge snapped, glaring at Luna. "What do you think you're doing here?"

For a moment, Harry was sorely tempted to ignore the blustering fool of a politician, and from the amused twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes, the old man knew it. But, instead, Harry decided to be the better man.

"I don't see Mister Lovegood here," he commented, looking around the room.

"What the devil does that have todo with anything?"

"You are attempting to speak to a minor child, in the presence of the Head of the DMLE, three Aurors, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, the Minister of Magic and…" Here Harry trailed off as he reached the squat, ugly, pink witch as he really didn't know _what_ she was, much less who. "I'm sorry… who exactly are you? I'm fairly certain you can't actually be a toad in a pink cardigan…" Internally he winced as Fudge and the toad both turned an interesting shade of puce and he mentally started cursing himself for letting his mouth get away from him. That was not the way to keep control of the discussion.

"I am Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, little boy-"

"And I am Lord Harry James Potter," Harry interrupted her simpering, high-pitched speech, "not a little boy. Remember who you are talking to before you speak."

He turned away from her with an almost dismissive wave of one hand to face the Headmaster, again. "Anyway, all of those people I mentioned, plus a Senior Undersecretary… whatever that is, are all attempting to speak to a minor without the presence of her legal guardian. _That_ is why I am here. The question now is, why are you here?" he asked, looking back to the Minister.

"That does nothing to explain why you think you have any right to be here and I have no obligation to explain myself to a child," Fudge snarled.

Harry blinked and glanced at Luna.

"Lord Potter, perhaps the Minister and Madame Umbridge did not notice the crest on Miss Lovegood's robes?" Amelia offered, carefully hiding her amusement. As much as Harry professed to hate his title, he was getting damn good at being the Lord Potter, when it was required.

Harry nodded at the suggestion and turned more fully toward the Minister and his croney, the sword hanging from his left hip coming more fully into view as he did so.

Before he could say anything, Umbridge let out a piercing shriek and leapt to her feet.

"Arrest him!" she bellowed. "Arrest him. Potter is threatening the Minister!"

Everyone in the room, even the Minister looked at her as if she'd just started speaking in tongues while she continued to screech and fumble to draw her wand.

"Madam Umbridge, _what_ are you shrieking about?" Amelia demanded. "Lord Potter has done absolutely nothing-"

"He is carrying a weapon in a clearly threatening manner in the Minister's presence!" Umbridge burst out, pointing an accusing finger at the sword.

They all looked down at the weapon, then back up at Umbridge, who was still screaming at the Aurors to arrest him.

"Are you stupid?"

Luna's soft, breezy voice cut through the noise like a hot knife through butter and Umbridge quickly began to turn a startling shade of purple as she glared at the tiny blond standing next to Harry.

"The Ministry has already been shown to have violated their own laws, as well as the rights of one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and now you want to do it again?" Luna asked. "Right in front of the Chief Warlock and the Head of the DMLE?"

"What are you blathering about?"

"It is Ministry law that a Lord of a Most Ancient and Noble House may where a sword wherever they like, even in the Ministry itself, or before the Minister," Harry explained, irritated with the noisy woman. "That aside, every single person here is carrying a weapon, yourself and the Minister included."

He received a pair of blank looks and had to resist the urge to slap a hand over his face in exasperation.

"Are you kidding me? Almost every witch and wizard in this country over the age of eleven carries a deadly weapon on their person, almost, at all times. Anyone with a wand is armed and could be dangerous," he explained as calmly as he could, then kept talking over their spluttering protests.

"As to your continued confusion as to why I am here, the crest on Miss Lovegood's shoulder should be explanation enough, however, as you have already shown an appalling lack of understanding of your own laws I will make it simple for you. Miss Lovegood is under the protection of House Potter. Since Miss Lovegood's legal guardian is not present, I will be standing in to represent her until he arrives." He paused and peered at the two Ministry officials. "You did contact her Father and let him know that his presence was required, right?"

"How dare you talk to me like that, you little brat," Fudge Bellowed, surgingto his feet in what he must have felt was an intimidating manner. "I am the Minister of Magic-"

"And I am a titled Lord, Order of Merlin, First Class recipient, Friend to the Goblin Nation and I have been named a Blooded Warrior by Ragnok VII, himself. Now that we are aware of each others credentials, can we please get on with this? Luna and I have homework to do, still, tonight."

"Indeed, Lord Potter is correct," the Headmaster said, leaning forward in his seat. "We are wasting valuable time that could easily be put to better use. I will assume that Lord Potter's presence here is no longer in question and we can proceed?"

The Minister and Madame Umbridge didn't appear to be too convinced on that matter but they didn't protest as Amelia turned to Harry and Luna.

"Before we start, I wanted to point out, these two Aurors are here as part of the Ministers guard detail, and not as a threat of arrest against Miss Lovegood. I am here as an interested party. and Auror Kingsley, I'm sure you know, is assigned here at the school in regards to the escaped prisoner, Sirius Black."

Harry and Luna nodded their acknowledgement and then turned back when Madame Umbridge started up in, what Harry was beginning to understand, was her usual girlish way of speaking with a high pitched, sweet tone of voice that did little to convince them there was anything nice about the woman.

"What do you think you were doing, writing that article, little girl?" she asked Luna, who gave the woman a wide eyed stare.

"What article?" she asked, tilting her head slightly to the right as the regarded the pink clad witch

"You know damn well what article, you little-"

"Minister, are you actually going to insult my protectee?" Harry asked, cutting the man off, calmly. "Miss Lovegood has written multiple articles over the last few years, so I'm told, so perhaps you could be more specific in your questions?"

"The article about Sirius Black in the Quibbler," Umbridge said. "By what right do presume to write such an article?"

"Was anything I said wrong?" Luna asked. "Lord Potter asked the Headmaster about the trial and interrogation of Black and discovered that no trial ever took place."

"Black was at the scene and witnesses heard Pettigrew say that Black betrayed the Potters."

"So that means he doesn't warrant a trial?" Harry asked. "You realize Ministry law means you have to declare Sirius a free man because the Ministry violated its own laws by not holding a trial and not even filing any charges in the first place."

"He's a known Death Eater-"

"He is not a known Death Eater," Harry interrupted again. "Did Black have the Dark Mark on his arm? Did anyone even check? Was his wand checked at the scene? He was never questioned so there's no reason, no explanation. My friend, Hermione, has a ginger colored Half-kneazle cat. One of my dorm mates has a pet rat that has disappeared recently. He came up to her a few weeks ago accusing her cat of eating his pet because he found some ginger hairs on his bed and some blood on his pillow. Does that immediately mean the cat is guilty?"

"Seems like a fairly obvious case to me."

Harry sighed and shook his head. "No, it's not at all obvious. It's just the most obvious conclusion. However, the cat, Crookshanks, seems to enjoy waking me in the morning, or sleeping on me, for some reason. So he's been in the dorm many times, that could explain the presence of the hairs. There are other cats in this school and even owls, any of whom could have attacked a rat which is a prey animal to both. Just because there are ginger hairs around doesn't mean, absolutely, that Crookshanks did it. Yes, it's possible, but not a sure thing.

"Just because Black was there, doesn't mean that he absolutely was guilty, especially if no one questioned him and he was never given a trial to figure out what exactly happened. Witness statements are not always the most accurate thing in the world. Whether Black is guilty or not, he should have been questioned, he should have been given a trial, and since neither of those things were done the Ministry _should_ declare him a free man and call off the Dementors. But that isn't what I want done."

Nearly everyone in the room blinked in surprise and gaped at Harry. Everyone except for Luna and the Headmaster, the latter of which was twinkling even more brightly as Harry controlled the room.

"You don't? Then what was the point of the article if not to force the Ministry to let Black go?"

"To get your attention, and to get the public's attention." Harry sighed again and raked one hand back through his hair. "Look, Minister, can I be plain here? I really don't like all this Lord stuff and I just want to be clear."

Cornelius Fudge was many things. Corrupt, easily manipulated, afraid of losing power, but he was also a savvy politician, and it was obvious enough to him that Harry had something in mind so he waved one hand for the teen to continue.

"Thank you. You've been completely against the idea of looking into this case since I showed Madame Bones the letters and journal entries I found from my parents. Why? I don't know. And right now I don't particularly care to know. Whether you really thought he was guilty or you were worried about looking bad in front of the public, I don't care. But if you're willing to work with me a bit, I think I have a way that you can come out of this whole thing smelling like roses, and maybe even with a couple of grateful Lords to call on as friends."

Harry honestly had to fight not to gag on those words. The very idea of pandering to the idiot in front of him turned his stomach but he forced them out, keeping a tight grip on his Occlumency just so he could keep from showing just how disgusted he was by the entire ordeal.

"How so?"

"The records showed that all of this happened before you came into office. It was the previous Minister that signed off on Black going directly to Azkaban, and it was Barty Crouch who gave the original order. You have the opportunity here to correct a great wrong perpetrated against the only living member of one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. You could be the Minister to save an innocent man from an injustice that was perpetrated by an already stepped down minister and a disgraced department head who resigned after his own son was found to be a follower of Voldemort-"

Harry had to stop when the Minister and Umbridge both cringed and let out startled squeaks at the name and fought not to roll his eyes.

"Sorry. My point stands. If you just declare Sirius a free man, people will still always wonder. The Public will never trust him, he'll be a pariah. What I ask, is that you call off the Dementors, and release a statement that if Black is captured or if he turns himself in he will get the fair trial that he was denied and the chance to prove his innocence. And personally, I want to know too. I would love to know, for sure, what happened that night, and right now he's the only one that knows. If you need to, use my name when you talk to the press. Present it as finally getting the answers I have never been able to get about what happened to my parents, why I had to grow up an orphan. Because I _do_ want to know, Minister. You can help me get those answers."

Feeling like he was starting to repeat himself, Harry left it at that, and fell silent, letting Fudge consider the information he'd been given.

"You're right, Po- Lord Potter," Fudge finally said. "This was all before I became Minister, and I can see exactly how I can present this to the press to keep the Ministry from looking bad…" He trailed off, muttering to himself.

"Minister are you actually going to let a child dictate-"

"He isn't dictating anything Dolores," Fudge cut her off. "We'll discuss this in my office." He stood and turned to Dumbledore. "Headmaster, thank you for the use of your office. If we might prevail upon you to use your Floo, we'll be leaving."

"Of course, Cornelius, of course. I looked forward to hearing how you wish to proceed, soon."

Over Umbridge's continued protests they left the office in a flare of green fire leaving Amelia, Kingsley, Harry, Professor Flitwick, and Luna in the office with the Headmaster.

"That was well done, Harry," Amelia congratulated him, moving forward to pull him into a hug.

"I think I want to be sick," he muttered, but returned the hug, nonetheless.

"I often feel that way after dealing with him, but you did a great job and got him on your side, at least for now."

"He's still gonna be trouble in the future, isn't he?"

She shrugged and stepped back as Flitwick came forward and reached for Harry's hand.

"I don't know why you thought I needed to be here, Lord Potter," he chuckled. "But I'm glad you invited me. I haven't been so entertained in some time." He shook Harry's hand, then turned to Luna. "Miss Lovegood, allow me to escort you back to the dorms."

"Thank you, Professor. Bye Harry," she called back over her shoulder as the two of them left with Kingsley behind them to return to his duties.

When the door closed, Harry flopped down into the chair just vacated by the Minister, a pensive look on his face.

"What is it, Harry?" Amelia asked, recognizing the look on his face.

"I think I might have figured something out. I was just about to get all my friends together in the Room to go over it all when you guys showed up. I told them we'll meet this Saturday since, thinking about it, I really need to do some research first. Do you think you could be here, with Kingsley and Tonks?"

"As long as the Headmaster allows it, I'll be here."

They turned to look at Dumbledore, who smiled and nodded.

"By all means, what time did you want to give your presentation, Mister Potter?" he asked and Amelia arched a brow at Harry, noting the lack of 'Lord' in the address.

"After Lunch?" Harry asked. "I figure it gives us enough time for me to go over everything and for everyone to offer their input if I still need to puzzle anything out.

"May I ask what this is in regards to."

"It relates to Black but I'd rather not say more than that until I get that research done."

Dumbledore nodded again, looking thoughtful now.

"I would like to be present as well, if that's not an imposition."

"I was actually going to ask if you could, Sir. We haven't always gotten along, but I think things are better, now, and you are well known to be rather brilliant. I think your thoughts on the issue would be very welcome."

"Then I shall be there, however, what is this Room that you are referring to."

At that, Harry grinned. "You're going to love it, Sir. Just meet us on the seventh floor, directly across from the tapestry of the wizard trying to teach trolls how to dance ballet..."


	41. The Greengrass Problem

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: The Rotten Writer returning with another chapter of Soul Scars. WARNING, Fluff ahead! We're coming down to the wire, gang. Next chapter should be a much more action packed romp and I'm looking forward to it.**

 **Let's all thank Tyrannic Puppy for some awesome beta help, this chapter. Rhys has had life pummel him over the head recently so he's been busy and that's more important.**

 **Disclaimer: Nope, not my characters or world. Oh well.**

 **Please enjoy chapter 40 of Soul Scars!**

Soul Scars Part Three

The Greengrass Problem

By,

Rtnwriter

"Don't try to convince us of anything," she said in a quiet murmur.

Harry blinked and stared at Hermione in surprise.

"But I'm tryin-"

"Don't try to convince us of anything. Don't explain to us where you're going with this. Don't give us any information beforehand," she insisted, cutting him off. "Just lay out the information and see if we come to the same conclusion that you did on our own. That's going to be the best way. If you start out trying to convince us, we'll have preconceived notions, and that might color our thought process."

He took a deep breath and let it out in a frustrated sigh before nodding.

"Yeah, okay."

She smiled, pecked him on his cheek, and moved over to sit at the large conference table the Room had supplied in between Daphne and Susan. Also at the table were Neville, Blaise, Amelia, Kingsley, Tonks, Remus, the Weasley twins, and the Headmaster. Plates of food were scattered across the table, supplied by an ecstatic Dobby, as well as notepads and pens, supplied by Hermione. She really didn't want to deal with quills for this. Harry approached the black board and picked up a piece of chalk, filling in the information and timeline that he'd started before. At the bottom he wrote:

 **James Potter- Stag. Sirius Black- Dog. Peter Pettigrew- Rat.**

Then he went back above again and wrote out the timeline he'd started earlier in the week.

 **Oct 31st '81 Riddle attacks – Nov 3rd Black arrested, Pettigrew killed – Summer '93 Black escapes after reading Daily Prophet – Oct 2nd '93 Neville finds Snuffles in village – Oct 31st '93 Black attempts to break into Gryffindor Tower.**

Immediately, one of the twins voiced a question.

"Who is Riddle?" he asked and Harry looked at the board for a moment before looking back at the redhead.

"Riddle is Voldemort's real name. Tom Riddle. He was a Slytherin and Head Boy here back in the 40's."

Twin one nodded and leaned back in his seat.

"Okay… so I was talking with Moony the day the Minister showed up," he said, gesturing to Remus, "and he explained that Black wasn't the only unregistered animagus. Turns out that my dad and Peter Pettigrew both also made the change back in their fifth year."

When most of the gathered students looked to their Professor he simply nodded.

Harry pointed to the bottom of the board where he'd re-written the animal forms.

"Black was a dog, a big black dog, hence his nickname, Padfoot. My dad was a stag, hence Prongs. Pettigrew was a rat, which explains Wormtail. Now, we know that someone betrayed my parents and led Riddle to them that Halloween night. According to my mum's journals and both my parents letters, it's very possible that Black was not their Secret Keeper, but we don't know that for sure. Three days later, Black and Pettigrew are on a crowded street in London. Words are exchanged, there's an explosion and when Aurors arrive on the scene all they find is Black, on his knees in the middle of the road, laughing hysterically."

The group nodded, the girls taking careful notes of what Harry was saying as well as writing down any questions that occurred to them.

"From what we now know, Black was thrown almost directly into Azkaban. He wasn't interrogated, no charges were filed, he was never even given a trial, right?"

They nodded again.

"Personally I'm wondering if they really bothered to do much of an investigation that day, or if they just obliviated everyone they could, as fast as they could, and swept things under the carpet, but that's something to focus on later. Moving on, Black spent the next twelve years sitting in prison before he escaped. We can probably guess he used his animagus form in order to make his escape, somehow, but why did he wait so long? Why wait that many years before escaping?"

"The Prophet said that Fudge gave Black his copy of the paper on the day he inspected the prison and a couple days later he was gone," Daphne offered. "Some of the guards were quoted saying that they heard Black muttering 'he's at Hogwarts' in his sleep."

"Right," Harry agreed, pointing at Daphne. "'He's at Hogwarts'. But who is 'he'?" He waited a moment but there was no answer forthcoming. "Everyone assumes Black was talking about me, but why would he suddenly decide that? Was there anything in the prophet that day that mentioned me or Hogwarts?"

"Maybe he saw the date and realized that you should be at school by now," was Hermione's suggestion and Harry shrugged.

"Possible, but that strikes me as pretty unlikely. Anyway, let's come back to that in a bit." He pointed at the board. "Neville found Black, in his animagus form on October 2nd and brought him up to the castle. If he was trying to get to me, why did he wait until Halloween, during the Feast to try to get into the tower? During a Holiday Feast the tower would be completely empty, all the students are required to be in the Great Hall at that time. And for that matter, if he was after me he could have attacked me during our Care of Magical Creatures class when he actually did attack Malfoy in an effort to defend me."

"You are suggesting that he was attempting to reach someone other than you?" Dumbledore asked, staring thoughtfully at Harry's timeline.

"Exactly. I think there's a third party involved here, the 'he' that Black was talking about in his sleep."

"Couldn't he have been trying to get into the tower to wait for you?" Tonks asked and Harry shrugged again.

"Again, it's possible. But, by attacking the Fat Lady's portrait he ruined any chance of that. As soon as anyone got to the entrance they'd know something was wrong. I think he was after someone that he thought was already in the tower."

"But you already pointed out that the tower would be empty," Susan objected.

"Empty of students," pointed out Hermione. "You're thinking someone who isn't a student."

"Like who?" asked one of the twins with Blaise nodding beside them.

"Hold on." Harry turned to the girls, glancing briefly at the adults that had been present Halloween night as well. "When we confronted Black in the corridor, what did he say? Exact wording as best we can manage."

The seven of them frowned while Remus and the others watched on.

"He said a lot, Harry," Amelia pointed out. "Much of it rambling and nonsensical, really."

"One thing he said was, 'he'll kill him'," Harry said. "Two different 'hims' And he also said that the Dementors couldn't have him until he, meaning Sirius, had killed the 'traitorous bastard'."

"Someone betrayed him?" Daphne asked.

"Or someone betrayed my parents and him." Harry looked directly at Remus. "Before he said all that he yelled the name, Peter, and he said the rat had been hiding and he was so close."

Remus paled as Harry turned and circled the word rat next to the name of Peter Pettigrew at the bottom of the board.

"But Pettigrew is dead," Kingsley argued. "All they found of him was a finger after the explosion."

"Maybe," Harry admitted before he reached into the inside pocket of his robes and pulled out the front page of an issue of the Daily Prophet and started to unfold it. "This is the front page of the same issue of the Prophet that Black saw the day Fudge came to inspect the prison."

Quickly he hit the paper with an enlarging charm and then fixed it to the chalkboard next to his timeline with a sticking charm .

"Hey!" Twin one said.

"That's the article about-"

"-Dad winning the Grand Prize Draw-"

"WORMTAIL!" Remus roared and leapt to his feet, running around the table until he was standing right in front of the enlarged image, his brown eyes gleaming a furious amber. There, right in the center of the family of nine stood Ron Weasley, one arm around his little sisters shoulder, and on his opposite shoulder sat his pet rat, Scabbers.

"You believe that rat is Peter Pettigrew?" Dumbledore asked, carefully.

"I know it is. I saw Peter change hundreds of times. I'd recognize that rat absolutely anywhere," Remus snarled, his hands clenched tightly into fists as if restraining himself from attempting to reach into the picture to grab the rat.

"That's Scabbers," Twin two cut in.

"Yeah, Percy had him for years before giving him to Ron."

"How much of Pettigrew did you say they were able to find after the explosion?" Harry asked Kingsley, who blinked in surprise.

"Just a finger," he said.

"Isn't Scabbers missing a toe?" Harry asked the twins who, reluctantly, nodded.

"Harry, what made you think of all this?" Hermione asked, curiously and he turned his attention away from the twins to focus on her and said, simply, "Crookshanks."

She blinked in confusion.

"Moony told me that Peter Pettigrew had the animagus form of a common brown rat. Halloween night Sirius is yelling for someone named Peter. The day after Halloween, Ron's rat disappears, leaving some blood on his pillow and some ginger cat hairs. If Pettigrew actually did fake his death back in '81, then the whole thing with Scabbers and Crookshanks is disturbingly similar."

The lot of them sank back into their seats, with Remus slowly making his way over to the nearest empty chair, each of them absorbed in their own thoughts for several minutes. The girls started asking questions, drawing Harry and the twins into the discussion as they hammered out some information, and while they were doing that, Kingsley leaned toward Amelia.

"Seriously," he muttered. "If you _don't_ try to recruit this kid for the Aurors, I absolutely will. I kind of want to introduce him to Moody, I think the two of them would get along like a house on fire."

"That's kind of what I'm afraid of, actually," she muttered back.

"So, the Weasley family has had Scabbers the rat since mid November of 1981, but rats like that don't live more than four years, five at the very most, if they're extremely lucky and well cared for. There is no way that rat should still be alive," Harry was saying to summarize the answers given to his girls by the twins.

"If the rat _is_ Pettigrew," Amelia said. "Why hide all this time?"

"Well, I admit there's a lot of guesswork here but… _if_ Sirius went through the Godfather Oaths, then there is no way that he was my parents Secret Keeper. And since it wasn't Remus, who else might they have chosen?" Harry asked. "I could be wrong, I admit that, but I think it is at least possible they made Peter, their other best friend, the Secret Keeper, and then didn't tell anyone about it in order to protect him, or maybe Sirius was supposed to be a decoy. Now, if that much is true, was he secretly a Death Eater, or did Voldemort find out, somehow, and torture the information out of him? I don't know. But what do you think Sirius would do if he even _thought_ that Pettigrew had betrayed them?"

"He would have rushed off to track him down and kill him," Remus admitted. "Sirius always was a hot head."

"And, confronted with Sirius, maybe Pettigrew blows up the street himself, disappears in his rat form, and leaves a finger behind to frame Sirius for the crime."

"But there's no way he could have known that the truth wouldn't come out in Sirius' trial. If he was trying to fake his own death there are so many ways it could have gone wrong," Susan mused. "Unless that wasn't the point," she added and Harry waited, silently, as she worked through the issue in her own head. "It probably didn't matter to him, then, if the truth was discovered during the trial. At the very least it would have been a good distraction, because while Sirius was being arrested, then waiting to be questioned, and waiting for his trial, that would have given Pettigrew plenty of time to disappear before anyone even thought to start looking for him. And then there _was_ no trial, so no one was even looking for him, so he was safe."

"That was my thought, too," Harry agreed, smiling brightly at her.

Amelia cleared her throat, drawing everyone's eyes to her and, when he turned her way, she held Harry's gaze with a steady look of her own.

"This is great work, Harry," she said. "I'm convinced. At the very minimum, it appears that Pettigrew likely faked his death and has been hiding as a pet ever since. Whether he betrayed your parents or not remains to be seen. That all aside, I do have to ask, what, exactly, are you hoping to achieve with this?"

It was at that point where Harry finally faltered, when he opened his mouth to answer and realized that he really had no explanation to give.

"Well… I guess, when it first occurred to me, I thought we could use it to get a trial for Sirius out of Fudge, but I guess I already handled that part the other day, didn't I?"

Amelia kept silent, and simply observed as Harry frowned, trying to puzzle out his reasons.

"If he's still alive… and if he was my parents Secret Keeper, then Pettigrew needs to be caught."

"For revenge?"

He blinked at that. "What? No! No, he needs to go to trial and he needs to go to prison if he's guilty. And…"

"And?" she prompted.

"And… and _if_ I'm right, and Remus is right, and he is still alive, then that means that Sirius didn't kill him. He's not a murderer, but right now he's trying damn hard to become one. I don't know him, but I don't want him to turn into that. He was an Auror, and from everything I've heard before the supposed betrayal and all that, he was a good man."

Amelia's smile grew slowly, but in no time it was wide enough to split her face in half. She stood and walked over to him, noting absently that everyone else turned away, even if Remus did have to force the twins to turn around, giving her and Harry a touch of privacy.

When she reached him, she put a hand on each of his shoulders, looking directly into his glowing gaze.

"Justice for the fallen, and protecting the innocent," she told him. "The motto of the Aurors." She pulled him into a tight hug and whispered quietly into his ear, "I cannot begin to tell you how very proud I am of you."

She pulled back soon enough, and the two of them composed themselves as Amelia returned to her seat.

"Did you have any other revelations for us, Mister Potter?" the Headmaster asked as the rest of the room returned their attention to Harry. "Or is raising a wizard from the dead enough for you, for one day?" The aged wizards blue eyes were twinkling madly and Harry couldn't help giving him a lopsided grin.

"No, Sir. I think I'll save something for another time."

Amelia let out a quiet chuckle before she pushed herself back to her feet. "All right, then. Shack, Tonks, we're adding Pettigrew to our search. If his name comes up on that map I want him caught before he even knows he's been compromised. Headmaster, the Dementors have been recalled by the Minister, but there are still pockets of them that haven't been accounted for yet."

"I have long said that it was a mistake for the Ministry to ever ally with such foul creatures," Dumbledore muttered in a dark tone. "I will ensure that the students and staff are aware to still exercise caution."

The three members of the DMLE left first, Amelia listing out orders while they went, soon followed by Remus and the Headmaster. The twins took off moment's after, saying something about a prank on the Slytherin Quidditch team, leaving Neville, Blaise, and the four bondmates behind as the room shifted around them into a non-house specific Common Room. The girls were almost immediately comparing notes on Harry's theory while Neville and Blaise sat quietly, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Is this what your life is always like?" Blaise suddenly asked, and Harry looked up at him, confused. "I mean, I heard rumors about first year. The whole school has heard rumors, but no one knows exactly what happened. I saw the articles about last year, obviously. You fought a basilisk and killed it. This year you out maneuvered a pureblood Lord, manipulated the Minister and just uncovered a crime more than a decade old that no one even knew existed!" He looked around at the five of them with one of the most shocked expressions on his face that they'd ever seen.

"Yeah, Blaise. This is kind of what it's like, being around me," Harry admitted, a sinking feeling in his gut. "I'll understand if you don't want to-"

"I want in."

Harry blinked as Blaise cut him off. "Wait… what?"

"I want in, Harry. I know I'm not as close a friend as Neville here, but I'd like to think that we've gotten a lot better since my heavy handed screw up last year. You and Daphne have your Slytherin tendencies, but you are still way too Gryffindor for your own good. I think you could use a real Slytherin in this group to make sure you all stay alive to see graduation."

Harry's mouth was hanging open in his surprise, and even Daphne had arched an elegant brow in shock at the unusually plain spoken declaration.

"Won't that cause trouble for you in the snake pit?" Neville asked. "We wouldn't want to cause you any problems and we can't be much help to you down there."

"Perhaps," Blaise admitted with a nonchalant shrug. "But they talk about you, Harry, in the Common Room, you know, and a large number of my Housemates are afraid of you. Your power is greater than you really know. Magically, politically, financially. You have influence with some powerful members of society and most of my House is afraid to mess with you because they know you could crush them, if you were ever so inclined."

Harry frowned and opened his mouth but Blaise cut him off again before he could say anything.

"And no, that is not why I want to be a part of this. I swear, I am not trying to use you or your fame. I'm just pointing out that openly declaring myself on your side isn't as dangerous as it might immediately sound."

"Then why?" Harry couldn't help but ask. "Straight answer, Blaise. None of the typical Slytherin hedging around the topic without actually answering the question."

Harry was sitting tall in his seat, his eyes gleaming brightly and fixed intently on the Italian born wizard. With every moment that passed, his eyes glowed brighter and brighter until Blaise felt as if he was staring at two killing curses that were barely contained behind Harry's irises.

Taking a deep breath, he started to speak. "Do you remember when Tracey introduced us in first year?" he asked.

Harry nodded.

"I said I would rather be friends with someone like you than the opportunistic back stabbers that made up the majority of my House."

"I remember."

"Well, that was only half true, really. It wasn't so much wanting friends other than the opportunistic backstabbers, since I don't consider them friends at all, but more about wanting friends, period. Tracey is the only person I've ever been able to call a friend. I like you." He glanced around at the silent girls and Neville who were observing the interaction carefully. "All of you," he added, "and I like having friends that I can relax around without worrying if I'm going to get a knife between my ribs, figuratively speaking. I see what you all have together. Trust and honest friendship and I want that. I want to be a part of something that isn't considering what someone can do for me or what I can leverage out of someone else.

"I see the best parts of all four of the school Houses here. Loyalty, bravery, intelligence, and cunning. I'm not blind. My mother and I see the rot in our society. The problems that keep leading to the rise of Dark Lord after Dark Lord. Something needs to change. Personally, I think you're going to be involved in that change. Everything just seems to happen around you, Harry. And, aside from the chance to forge some real, honest friendships, I can see how being involved in that change could be a good thing for myself, for my mother, and for my House."

Neville and the girls watched Harry carefully, his face impassive and his emotions blocked to his bondmates after Blaise finished speaking. It took some time, several silent minutes while Harry just stared at the Slytherin before he slowly smiled, threw his head back, and absolutely roared with laughter, startling everyone still in the room with his reaction.

"Just what is so funny?" Hermione finally managed to ask when Harry got himself under control.

Still chuckling, he was barely able to respond. "Typical Slytherin… even when he's being honest and sincere… he's still looking for a way to benefit."

With that, he broke down laughing again with Neville quickly joining him once he put the details together. Hermione was frowning at her hysterical bond mate while Susan was snickering quietly and Daphne simply rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat, a small smirk turning up the corners of her mouth.

Once the boys finally calmed Harry sat up in his chair where he'd been slumped over in his mirth and looked at Blaise. "Honestly, Blaise. I really think that's the most sincere you've ever been. And you're a Slytherin, I really can't fault you the ambition that makes you just look for ways to benefit from an opportunity. You want 'in' as it were, then you're welcome. It might be tricky with us being in different Houses, but we'll try to make sure you're included in anything that we get involved in, as much as possible."

Leaning forward, Harry extended his scarred right hand and Blaise accepted and shook the offered hand, grinning broadly as he wondered, just how much was his life going to change getting in deeper with Harry James Potter?

#####

"Guys, do you mind if I steal Harry for a moment?"

Daphne, Hermione, and Neville turned from the entrance into Gryffindor tower to look at Susan who was standing back a few feet, her hands clasped together in front of her. They glanced to Harry, who looked just as confused as they felt, then they shrugged.

"Just don't break him, again, please," Neville requested. "It's been enough of a chore keeping his head on straight this year."

The girls snickered as Harry sputtered at his friend for a moment when he felt a hand wrap around his arm and he found himself being pulled away from the portrait of the lunatic Knight the staff had chosen to replace the portrait of the Fat Lady while her canvas was still being repaired.

"Come along, Harry," Susan said in a disturbingly sweet tone of voice to the sound of more laughter from behind them. "I promise this won't hurt a bit."

"That's not exactly filling me with confidence," he muttered, but let himself be drawn away. He had absolutely no worry that any of his girls would ever do anything to hurt him intentionally.

They wandered the corridors, seemingly aimlessly for some time, until Harry noticed they were heading toward a small courtyard built near the greenhouses. A simple, but elegant fountain sat in the exact center of the flagstone courtyard with clinging vines growing along the walls. A small garden filled one end that, in spring, would have filled the area with the scent of the many different flowers that were routinely planted and cared for by some of Professor Sprout's Hufflepuffs. Neville had helped the year before and impressed the motherly professor with his knowledge and innate understanding of the plants and what each species needed to thrive.

"Susan, what is it?" he finally asked when she took a seat on a stone bench by the frozen over fountain and patted the bench beside her for him to sit.

"I think it's about time we had a little talk, Harry," she said and he resisted the urge to groan.

"What about?"

"Whatever it is that's bothering you."

"Nothing is bothering-"

"Harry, you're anxious and confused. I'm not trying to push you to open up, but it's obvious something has been bothering you. If you have a question, or something to say, just say it. If not, well, it's been a nice walk and I can honestly say that spending a quiet bit of time with you isn't a hardship in any way." Her cheeks were just slightly pink when she finished, but Harry didn't notice, having resorted to pacing back and forth in front of the bench.

That action alone told Susan just how much turmoil he was in. When Harry was confused or anxious he would still stroke that scar behind his jaw, something he was doing right at that moment. When he didn't have an outlet or a solution to what was bothering him he couldn't sit still. He paced, he moved, he prowled like a caged animal, restless and on edge.

"Daphne kissed me," he suddenly blurted out and then cringed, his eyes squeezing shut as he froze in place.

Susan blinked, surprised by the sudden outburst, but pleased once she got over the initial shock.

"Yes, she did," she said, calmly and his eyes flew open as he turned sharply to stare fully at her.

"You knew?" he gasped and she nodded.

"Of course I knew. Hermione and I did help get you to go talk to her at the New Years party, remember?"

"But she loves you," he finally said after several stunned minutes of silence.

"Yes, she does, and I love her too."

Her completely calm manner was probably the most confusing part of the entire confusing situation for Harry. Much like Hermione, though he didn't know it, Harry had learned more than a little about relationships, affection, and love through reading. Reading something without ever experiencing it was not going to make him an expert, however, and everything else aside, he knew enough to understand that people didn't tend to appreciate someone they loved kissing another person. So why was she so calm?

His mouth worked soundlessly for a few moments, moving up and down without a single word escaping before Susan let out a small giggle, unable to contain a hint of mirth at his dumbfounded reaction.

"Harry, why do you think Daphne kissed you?"

His mouth snapped shut with a click and he frowned, his brow furrowed deeply.

"I haven't the foggiest, especially if she's supposed to love you. I don't want to get in the way of that and I don't understand why she would do it."

"Have you considered the idea that she might like you?" she asked.

He gave her a confused look. "Neville asked the same damn question. I'm not stupid, I know you three like me, and I like you. All three of you are my best friends. You know me better than anyone, you're a part of me. Why does everyone seem to think I'm suddenly too thick to understand that?"

Susan resisted the urge to let out an exasperated sigh. _Maybe we think you're too thick because you really_ are _too thick to understand that we love you, you silly prat. Merlin's pants, you're lucky you're cute, Potter,_ she thought as she closed her eyes and tried to figure out the best way to approach this.

When she'd brought him out there, she really, really hadn't expected what she was presented with. She thought this might have been exactly the type of situation that she and Daphne had been warned to avoid with Harry. They couldn't come right out and tell him all four of them could be together, not yet. Especially as he really didn't seem to have the slightest understanding of just how much their bond was going to develop. For a moment she felt a surge of hatred for the Dursleys. Years of telling Harry that he wasn't loved and never would be had left him with a severe blind spot for affection.

She opened her eyes, decision made, and only hoped she wouldn't confuse the boy too much more. "Harry, look at me please?" she asked and he stopped the pacing he'd resumed and looked down at her, their eyes meeting and she held his gaze, attempting to push everything she felt for him toward him through their bond as she spoke. "I kissed Daphne, and she kissed me, because we love each other. I can honestly tell you that Daphne would never kiss someone that she didn't feel very strongly toward."

That said, she stood keeping her eyes locked firmly on his. He didn't back up as she moved, leaving them standing only inches apart. Unlike Daphne, Susan was only two or three inches shorter than he was, so she didn't have to look up too far to maintain that eye contact as she slowly leaned closer to him.

"And I wouldn't ever kiss someone that I didn't want to be with," she said in a quiet whisper just before letting her lips close on his.

Harry froze in shock, even though he'd suspected what was about to happen after his experience with Daphne on New Years. That did nothing to prepare him for the reality of Susan's lips against his own and for a moment he could only marvel at the sensation, his mind freezing up entirely.

Her lips moved gently against his and his pulse shot up as his heart began pounding in his chest. Susan's kiss was gentle, soft, with only a minimum of pressure applied. It was a simple, chaste, but loving caress that seemed to promise something more that he couldn't begin to comprehend.

Just as his mind kicked back into gear, Susan pulled back, both their eyes opening and he felt lost for a moment in the expressive blue pools that stared so intently at him from less than two inches away.

"Before you start to question and wonder and drive yourself crazy," she whispered, her breath brushing teasingly across his mouth, "just understand that we're not expecting anything from you. Not right now. All three of us understand you're not ready. When you are, though, we need you to know that we'll be here. Don't worry about us, the four of us. We're going to end up where we're going to end up. Wherever that will be." Her right hand came up and softly caressed his cheek as she fought back the tears that wanted to well up at the confusion and barely restrained fear that she could see in his glowing green eyes and feel through their bond.

"We're not going anywhere, Harry, so don't worry about trying to understand everything right away. Just be patient, let it come naturally, and when you're ready, you know exactly where to find us."

She hesitated for a moment before she leaned forward and kissed him again, just a quick peck of her lips against his, then she slid out from between him and the bench behind her and walked back into the castle.

Behind her, Harry turned and sank down onto the bench, his thoughts in turmoil. Unbidden, an image rose to the forefront of his mind. A picture of a gold framed mirror and a reflection of an older version of himself with the three essential women in his life standing with him.

#####

When Neville, Daphne, and Hermione entered the Common Room, all three of them grinning at the almost panicked look on Harry's face as Susan led him away, Hermione muttered something about laying down and then waved off their concern before heading up to the dorm. Entering, she quietly closed the door behind her, grateful to find the room empty, then walked over and flopped back onto her large four-poster bed.

For several moments she stared up at the canopy above her with unseeing eyes before she groaned and rolled over onto her right side, drawing her legs up onto the mattress in the process.

"Why is this so difficult?" she muttered.

She lay quiet, her mind spinning even as her body felt as if it was made of lead, heavy and unresponsive. Keeping up with twelve different classes, plus their morning and evening training… she'd officially bitten off far more than she could chew and she wasn't sure exactly how to make things easier for herself.

There was absolutely no way she was going to skip out on the training and let her bond mates down. However, the thought of dropping a class or two filled her with dread. Hermione Granger had never failed at anything academically related, and she wasn't about to start now, thank you very much.

She sighed, mentally admitting that training and classes were only part of her problems. She groaned and rubbed at her temples as she started to argue with herself, again.

"This is stupid," she muttered. "Mum was right, I do love them, so why can't I just…"

She shook her head and sat up.

"No, I have been agonizing over this and driving myself crazy. I'm not going to worry about it right now."

She started to get out of bed, then suddenly stopped, her brow furrowing into a deep frown. "But it's been almost four months," she muttered, sinking slowly back into the soft mattress.

"Urgh… I thought this bond was supposed to make things easier for us," she whined. "I've never been more conflicted in my life!"

The door to the dorm opened, and Tonks walked in, still wearing her Cedrella Black guise.

"You know," she said, a teasing smirk in place on her full lips, "they say that talking to yourself is one of the first signs of insanity."

Hermione snorted out a laugh and fell over onto her back again. "Sounds about right," she muttered. "I certainly feel like I'm losing my mind."

A few moments later she felt the mattress shift beneath her as Tonks sat down on the bed.

"Still trying to work out your Greengrass problem?" Tonks asked in a sympathetic tone.

Hermione glanced up at Tonks' concerned violet gaze. "What?" she asked, confused. "No, we solved that issue last month. Lord Greengrass shouldn't be bothering us anymore."

Tonks laughed, lightly. "Wasn't talking about old Cyril," she said. "I meant your problem not being able to decide if you want the lovely Lady Greengrass that is currently sitting in the Common Room with Lord Longbottom."

Hermione gaped at the smiling Auror for a moment before her cheeks flushed and she looked away, muttering an embarrassed, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hermione, I'm not blind or stupid, and I'm a metamorph. I can read people about as easily as you read books. It's been obvious to me since I got here."

Hermione's red cheeks darkened further but she didn't say anything.

"Seriously," Tonks tried again. "I'm not going to tease you or anything. I like you guys. You, the other girls, Neville, even that Blaise kid is growing on me and Luna is a riot. I can tell that this is tearing you up, so what could it hurt to ask for a little advice?"

Hermione chewed nervously on her bottom lip for a few moments before she sighed and sat up, moving back so that she was leaning against the headboard.

"I just don't know what to do," she said, twenty minutes later, after giving Tonks the short version of her one, conscious kiss with Daphne and the conversation she'd had with her mother over the break.

Tonks looked thoughtful, going over everything in her head.

"Okay, first question, then. Are you past this idea that maybe you've been changed to accept something that you might not have accepted without the bond?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, mum was right, it's fairly obvious, thinking about it, that we had to have been compatible before bonding. I can believe and accept that, now."

"Good," Tonks said, nodding her head. "Do you believe that you are honestly in love with them? All three of them?"

At that, Hermione flushed again, and winced, slightly. Tonks certainly didn't pull any punches with her questions. But, slowly, she nodded her head. "Yes," she almost whispered. "I've thought about it, a lot. They mean so much to me. I honestly can't imagine a future without the three of them in my life. Even trying leaves me wanting to curl up in bed and cry my eyes out. I… I _want_ to be with them… I do, I just… I…" She trailed off, helplessly, unable to find the words she needed and Tonks leaned forward to gently pat one of her hands where they were clenched into tight fists on her thighs.

"If you want it, what's stopping you?"

Hermione squirmed uncomfortably in her spot on the bed, reluctant to voice her thoughts.

"You've always considered yourself to be straight, haven't you?"

Timidly, Hermione nodded.

"But you're finding Daphne and Susan to be attractive, and now you're questioning your entire identity, aren't you?" Tonks asked with the air of someone speaking from first hand experience.

Hermione nodded again, a little more easily, even as she studied the Auror in a new light. While she was doing that, Tonks had sat back in the bed, her head down, deep in thought. She remained that way, silently considering the situation for some time before she let out a deep sigh and looked up at the bushy haired witch.

"I might have some advice," she said, a trifle reluctantly. "But I'd need to tell you something that I've never told anyone. Not even my parents. I would need you to promise me that you won't ever repeat it to anyone, not even your bond mates. It's deeply personal, but I think it'll help you."

Hermione had never seen the young Auror more serious and immediately made to reassure the woman. "You don't have to-"

"I want to," Tonks cut her off. "I want to help, okay?"

Her earnest expression, more than anything, cut through any of Hermione's protests, so she gave her promise.

Tonks smiled, flashing her perfectly straight and perfectly white teeth for a brief moment before settling back on the bed and stretching her legs out in front of her, carefully arranging her uniform skirt as she did so.

"Okay, first you need to learn a few things about metamorphmagi. So, what is a metamorph?"

Automatically, Hermione gave her memorized, textbook answer.

"A metamorphmagus is a witch or wizard born with the innate ability to manipulate their physical features at will."

Tonks grinned. "Close, but no cigar," she quipped, then kept talking before Hermione could protest. "That _is_ exactly what the books say, to be fair, but the published information on metamorphs is incomplete, and for good reason."

She paused and took a deep breath before continuing.

"What the books _should_ say is, a metamorphmagus is a _person_ born with the innate ability, yadda, yadda," she said, and Hermione frowned.

"But, that's what I said."

"No, you said 'a witch or wizard'."

"Isn't that the same thing? It's just changing a word instead of mentioning both genders."

"Changing a word changes the meaning, Hermione, you know that. Here's another question. Am I a witch, or a wizard."

Hermione blinked but quickly responded. "A witch."

"Wrong."

Hermione blinked again, sitting up in keen interest now. Something was off here, and her constantly active mind was analyzing the information she had but found herself lacking enough details to put the puzzle together.

"I am not a witch," Tonks said, speaking over Hermione's mental musings. "Nor am I a wizard. Not technically. Being a metamorph is more than being a witch or a wizard with a unique ability. Technically, metamorphs should be classed as a different species. Well… maybe not species, but we would definitely be considered a third gender."

Now Hermione was extremely confused. "But you're… I mean…" she trailed off, flushing brightly and Tonks grinned at her.

"Yes, I've got all the womanly anatomy but that's all psychological, or unconscious, really. Look, let me backtrack and try to explain a few things. Remember when I said that I had a base form? An appearance I would look like if I didn't make any conscious changes to my body or my face or hair?"

Hermione nodded, her fingers itching for a pen to take notes, but she reminded herself that Tonks didn't want any of this repeated, so she quelled her instinctive reaction to learning something new and just focused on what the other woman… person, was saying.

"Well that's really only partly true. Yes, it's true I have a form that, if I relaxed all of my morphing ability and just let myself change into a… resting state, I guess, then that is how I really appear. But it's still just an appearance, still a disguise, in a way, and not in any way dictated by who my parents are or my biology. See, for a metamorph, our bodies are fluid, and our appearance is not defined by our genetics. You, for example, have physical features similar to each of your parents because your body is made up of information taken from both of them when you were conceived and as you developed, right?"

Hermione nodded eagerly.

"I don't have that." She waved one hand to take in her current guise. "This is actually what I would call my base form, just aged down so I appear to be thirteen, or so. No one has ever seen it except my parents. The shape of my eyes, parts of my face, my build, these are traits from my mum and I have other features similar to my dad. But, hypothetically, say I was adopted at a very young age and never knew that my adopted parents weren't my biological parents. My unconscious mind, along with my morphing ability, would have had me looking like a child born from those two people because, as far as I knew, I was, so my body would reflect my mental image of my 'self'.

"That's what being a metamorph means. Our bodies are really unimportant. Our appearance isn't something we're truly attached to because what we look like, what physical gender we appear to be, that's not _really_ who we are. Mentally, I feel that I am female, so my body is female. But if I wanted, I could be male, with all the accompanying organs and even the ability to get a woman pregnant. That's what I mean by a third gender. A metamorph can be male, female, or both whenever it's desired."

"So, you appear female because you prefer to think of yourself as female?"

Tonks shook her head. "It's not a matter of preference. I didn't decide one day 'you know what? I think I'm more girl than boy so that's what I'll stick with'. It's similar to homosexuals, they didn't decide to be gay, that's just how they are, and my body reflects the 'me' on the inside, my sense of self and individuality."

Hermione shook her head in amazement, but then frowned a moment later.

"This is all really fascinating, Tonks, and I'd really love to discuss it more and learn more, but what does this have to do with my problem?"

"I'm getting there, just trying to give you a little background info. See, when I hit my formative years and started wondering about dating and such… well, I found that I didn't find men attractive, not in a physical way. So, I wondered if maybe I was gay, but after a while I decided I wasn't any more attracted to women either. That really threw me for a loop, lemme tell ya. Eventually, I decided that it's not the person's body that I would find attractive, but the person. As a metamorph my appearance isn't of vital importance since I can change almost however I want, so in looking for a partner, their appearance wasn't any more important to me than my own.

"What I learned was that it was the person that I could find attractive, and once I liked the person, then I found myself desiring the body that came with it, whether they were male or female. I think it might help you to look at your situation in a similar way. You love Daphne, and you love Susan. Since you love them, it really is only natural that you would start to find them attractive, start to want them. That doesn't change any part of you or your own identity, your own sexuality, even. I mean, do you want to kiss me?"

Hermione started and leaned away from the Auror. "No!" she blurted out, then immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry, I mean, you're attractive, you're beautiful, even, but I don't… I mean…" She trailed off, muttering unintelligibly as Tonks burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry," she gasped out. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to tease you, I just meant to make a point. If you identify as straight, you still are, even if you find Susan and Daphne desirable. You love the people that Daphne and Susan are. I don't think you're likely to suddenly start checking out other women if you just admit to yourself that you find those two attractive and give yourself the chance to explore a relationship with them. Just… consider that for a while and see where it leads you, okay?"

Reaching out, Tonks patted Hermione's hand again and slid out of the bed, making her way towards the door.

"Tonks?"

One hand on the latch, Tonks turned to look back at Hermione, cinnamon colored eyes meeting violet.

"Why?"

Tonks cocked her head to the side, something she'd picked up from her time spent chatting with Luna.

"Why, what?"

"Why did you tell me all that? About metamorphs, and about yourself. You could have easily just said that last part about loving the person, not the body, without telling me something so personal."

"Yeah, I could have." Tonks shrugged. "But doesn't it make more of an impact for you to know and understand that I have good reason to know what I'm talking about there? You know what I am now. You know what I dealt with, trying to find my own sense of self. I went through a lot of agonizing and doubt, wondering if there was something wrong with me. If sharing that with you helps you avoid some of what I went through, then it is more than worth it."

"Thank you. For the help, and for trusting me, I swear, I won't ever repeat it to anyone."

Tonks smiled warmly. "Any time, kid. Seriously, all of you guys have grown on me."

"Are you heading downstairs?"

Tonks nodded and Hermione considered that for a moment before her posture suddenly changed. She sat up straighter on the bed, her shoulders squared and her chin came up, her head high and level without being snooty. In a word, she looked determined.

"If Daphne is still down there, could you tell her I want to talk to her? Susan too, if she's there?"

Tonks blinked. "Are you sure? That's kinda fast, you know, you can take a little more time to mull it over."

"I don't want to mull things over," Hermione disagreed, shaking her head. "I've been arguing with myself for months and you're right. I do love them and I can move forward, or I can keep standing still, agonizing over something that isn't likely to ever change unless I just do something about it." She gave a weak smile. "Honestly, I'm terrified, but I need to talk to them."

Tonks hesitated for a moment before she walked back over and wrapped the girl in a quick hug.

"You know they'll wait as long as you need," she muttered and Hermione nodded.

"I know. But I think they've waited long enough. And… I think I've waited long enough.

"All right." Tonks pulled away and, just before she slipped out of the room, she looked back. "Good luck."

#####

Neville was long gone, excusing himself to hit the Greenhouses as Daphne sat on the sofa near the fire, cradling a softly crying Susan Bones in her arms. The tears had been flowing ten minutes earlier when the girl returned from her chat with Harry and hadn't said much since she threw herself into her bondmates arms, sobbing almost uncontrollably. It was at Daphne's insistence that Neville left, but Susan had manage to get out that Harry wasn't to blame for her tears, so at least Neville wouldn't be tracking his friend down to have a few pointed words with him.

"Better?" Daphne asked as Susan's tears finally subsided.

"A bit, yeah."

Daphne smiled, a soft, sad thing. "You know you can't hide anything from me anymore, love."

"Dammit."

That caused Daphne to laugh, just a bit.

"What happened," she finally asked. "You were such a confusing mix there."

Susan mumbled something into Daphne's shoulder that she couldn't make out, muffled as her voice was.

"What was that?"

She looked up as a pair of fifth years walked past their corner of the Common Room and silently thanked Merlin for the invention of privacy charms. The people in the room knew that the two of them were there, but none would notice the intimate position they were sitting in, hopefully. Not that she would push Susan away for anything, not in a time of need such as this.

"I kissed Harry," Susan repeated herself, turning her head slightly so she could be heard more clearly. "He told me you kissed him. I swear he was worried I would be upset or something. When I wasn't that just confused him more."

"So what happened?" Daphne asked, quietly pleased for her… girlfriend? Partner? Well, Susan was her bond mate, plain and simple, the rest they could figure out as they went.

"I told him that we kissed because we loved each other, and that I knew you would never kiss someone that you didn't feel very strongly for."

"Hmmm."

"Then I told him that I would never kiss someone that I didn't want to be with, and I kissed him." Susan straightened up a bit more, sniffling quietly and Daphne dug a handkerchief from one of her pockets which she handed over.

"Thank you," she said, quickly wiping her eyes and nose. "So, I kissed him, and I told him not to worry about where things were going with us. I said we knew he wasn't ready, but we would wait for him. Said that all three of us understood he wasn't ready yet, but when he was, then he knew where to find us, and I walked away."

"Why'd you leave?"

"... because he was… he was so _scared_ ," Susan moaned, quietly. "Merlin, Daphne, if you'd seen it… felt it… I… I was touching his cheek, I could feel him and see it in his eyes. He was so confused and so just utterly terrified. I swear, it broke my heart. He's gotten used to friends, but the very idea that anyone could care more for him than just being a friend… those _fucking_ Dursleys," she suddenly snarled furiously. "Dammit, Daphne, he has absolutely no idea how to handle the idea that we might actually love him. I don't know if he's scared to be loved, since his parents were the only ones he knows did love him, even if he can't remember it, and they died, or maybe he really doesn't think he's worth being loved. I don't know.

"I even asked him if he considered the idea that you liked him, and he looked at me like I was an idiot. He said he knew we liked him, and he liked, us we're his best friends. I think the idea of actual love hasn't even entered his head, like he just can't comprehend it."

Before Daphne could form a response they heard someone quietly clearing their throat and turned to see Cedrella standing nearby.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said, "but Hermione asked me to tell you that she needs to talk to you. Both of you. Nicely done privacy charms, by the way. I'd have never noticed you if I hadn't had a compelling reason to find you."

Sighing, almost imperceptibly, at the interruption, Daphne stood. "Thank you, Cedrella," she said. "Is she still in the dorm?"

Cedrella nodded. "You might want to hurry, and… be gentle with her, okay? She's got a lot on her mind."

Daphne and Susan exchanged a look, the latter of whom was rapidly regaining her equilibrium with something to focus on other than her worries for Harry as she stood to join Daphne.

"Should we be worried," she asked.

"Nah," Tonks said, letting some of her usual persona shine through for a moment. "She just wants to talk to the two of you."

"We'll head up now, then," Susan said, moving away from Daphne and toward the stairs with her bond mate following closely on her heels as Cedrella dropped into the armchair that Harry usually commandeered for himself and stared into the fire.

"Cupid ain't got nothin' on Tonks," she muttered, a grin playing around her lips as she made herself comfortable and waited for any of the bonded, or their other friends to return. "Next time they decide to scatter across the entire castle though, Imma smack the livin' daylights out of 'em. Least I know where three of them will likely be for the foreseeable future."

Upstairs, Daphne pulled Susan to a stop before she could rush into the dorm, forcing the redhead to turn toward her and she stepped in close, drawing Susan into a hug.

"We're not going to worry about Harry, right now. He… he needs time and we're gonna keep showing him that we care for him. He'll get there, but there's nothing more we can do right at the moment, agreed?" she asked and Susan let out a long sigh.

"Yeah, I guess you're right, I just hate it."

"I do, too, love, believe me." Daphne pulled back, looking up into Susan's eyes. "Ready to find out what's on Hermione's mind?"

Her only response was a quick peck of a kiss against her lips and Susan turned back to the door, pulling it open so the two of them could step inside. Hermione was pacing restlessly back and forth in the empty space in front of the beds as they entered and closed the door behind them, her fingers twisting together anxiously in front of her. When she saw them she suddenly froze in place, her posture stiffening and her eyes filling with fear for a few moments before she forced herself to relax. To the more muggle aware Susan, she seemed to epitomize the phrase 'deer caught in the headlights'.

"Ummm…. hi," she said, awkwardly, to which they responded with their own greetings before Hermione turned and gestured to her bed. "Why don't you two sit?" she offered, and, without a word spoken, Daphne and Susan moved over and sat side by side on the edge of the bed, each of them regarding their flustered bond mate with concern.

Of the four of them, Hermione had had the greatest trouble with Occlumency. She had a highly organized mind before beginning, which normally would have made learning and applying the discipline easier for her. But along with her organized way of thinking she was also extremely intelligent and curious, and that sent her mind off in dozens of different directions, frequently simultaneously. That ability to multitask and think on different subjects at the same time served her well, academically, but made the singular focus of maintaining Occlumency shields more difficult. As such, her shields tended to fluctuate, allowing brief glimpses into her emotions that shot across their bond in short bursts.

Apprehension, excitement tinged with fear and nerves, a startlingly deep sensation of desire and longing. Hermione wanted something, they determined, but whatever it was frightened her even as the idea of it thrilled her.

"Hermione, what is it? You're worrying us," Susan finally asked after Hermione had resumed pacing without saying anything else. Susan was startlingly reminded of her conversation, not an hour earlier, with Harry, and how he'd prowled back and forth in front of the bench where she'd sat. She idly wondered if they were all going to be taking on more traits and habits from their bond mates, and if it was because of the bond, or simply an effect of their frequent and close proximity to each other.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, blowing out an explosive breath that did little to relieve any of her tension or anxiety. "I don't mean to worry you… I'm just… I have to talk to you, to both of you. But I'm nervous and I don't want to mess up."

Daphne leaned forward slightly, speaking in a calming tone. "Just say what you need to say, Hermione. If there's any confusion, we'll discuss it as we go." Inside, Daphne was keeping the tightest possible grip on her own Occlumency, not that it did anything to stop Susan from feeling the sudden spike of longing and hopeful anticipation that shot through the blond witch beside her.

Hermione took several deep breaths and managed to stop pacing, but couldn't stop her hands nervous motion, fingers twisting and winding together as they were clasped tightly in front of her. So tightly, in fact, that she was leaving marks on her skin and Susan reached out to gently pry the girl's hands apart, rubbing the marks soothingly with her thumbs once she succeeded.

Hermione's smile was timid, and trembling, but the gratitude she felt was genuine as she squeezed Susan's hands briefly and took a step back. Taking a moment to center her thoughts she decided to just jump straight into things.

"Tonks was up here, just a few minutes ago," she said. "She had some advice for me and I think it's what I needed to hear more than anything. It's given me a new perspective, at least, on something that I have been having a lot of difficulty with." She turned, slightly, to look more fully at Daphne. "The morning after you kissed me… remember I said I was straight?"

Daphne nodded, her hopeful feeling sinking, just slightly, but she refused to let herself worry too much right away.

"I think that's what has been giving me the biggest trouble over… over this whole situation." Hermione waved one arm as she spoke, taking in all three of them with that single gesture. "It… well it made me think. I mean… dammit, I find both of you very attractive, but I've always felt I wasn't interested in other girls, so what the hell does that mean? I've been worried that our bond was changing me, doing something to make me accept the idea of being with you, something I wouldn't have decided on my own." She trailed off and started pacing again.

"Mum asked if it mattered and I guess on one hand it doesn't really, but to me it does. I don't want to lose myself in this bond. I want to be me. I want to be my own person and not be changed to fit into something else. This whole thing has had me questioning who I am and what _I_ want." She suddenly stopped and spun to face them again and her voice dropped to something small and quiet. "It didn't take me long at all to decide I wanted you, both of you, and I want Harry. And I do think that's because of the bond, but my mum helped me understand that it wouldn't have changed us. I know I suggested it before, that we had to be compatible, but I didn't think, at the time, that we were compatible in order for the bond to form. Obvious, in retrospect, it just didn't occur to me, then, that we had to be compatible even before bonding.

"So, then I was back to being confused again. If we were so compatible why wasn't I more like Susan and attracted to boys and girls? Why isn't Daphne attracted to boys too? I couldn't understand it and it frustrated me and worried me and…" She trailed off again, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her face flushed and her eyes filling with tears that didn't fall before she shook her head sharply.

"No, that's not important. Tonks' advice is the important part here. And actually, it reminded me of something I thought when you were kissing me, that night," she added the last part as she turned more fully toward Daphne again.

Daphne and Susan were taut with worry. Both of them wanting nothing more than to rush to the girl and hold her, attempt to soothe her worries, but they were carefully restraining themselves, not wanting to push or derail their bond mate's wandering thought process.

"What was that?" Daphne asked in a slightly hoarse voice as their eyes met.

"When you kissed me I… I was confused and I was shaken. A part of me was saying to kiss you back, but I felt I wasn't interested in girls and that part of me that wanted to kiss you said that first and foremost you were our bondmate and a girl second."

"Wh-what does that mean, exactly?" Susan couldn't help but ask.

"It means that what I feel for all three of you has nothing to do with your gender, how you look, or anything on the outside, but the person that I know you are on the inside." She paused again, shifting her weight, nervously, for a moment before taking another deep breath and rushing onwards. "And that was Tonks' advice. She pointed out th-that I love you for the people that you are, and not for your bodies, and really, it's only natural that… that loving and wanting _who_ you are would be followed by wanting _what_ you are."

When she finished both girls sitting on the bed were struck silent, their thoughts latching onto a couple of very important, words.

Love.

Want.

Hermione moved closer and gently took Daphne's hands in her own, drawing the smaller girl to her feet. "I told you," she murmured softly, "that as soon as I knew what I wanted, that you would be the first to know. I'm sorry that Tonks kind of found out first, but it helped me make this decision, as much as it still terrifies me."

Daphne's hands, almost convulsively, squeezed Hermione's, holding tightly as if afraid the other girl would slip away at any moment and she shook her head.

"That's okay," she croaked out, suddenly more anxious than she'd ever felt, even when she finally told Susan that she loved her.

"I thought, before, that if I was going to do this, I really wanted us to be alone but… it didn't feel right not to include Susan in this." Hermione carefully extracted her hands from Daphne's grip and let them slide up her arms until they were resting atop her shoulders. "I've been thinking about this for months," she whispered, her eyes seemingly boring into Daphne's cool blue irises, "and I really want to kiss you now, but… can you… can you please just let me…" She trailed off and some of the Gryffindor bravado she'd leaned heavily on so far left her in the face of what she intended.

Thankfully, Daphne understood and nodded. She stood straight and placed her hands lightly on Hermione's waist, but made no other movement. "Go ahead," she whispered back. "You just kiss me, if you want, and I won't push."

The smile she received for that declaration alone made her feel the months of waiting and uncertainty were completely worth every second of it for this moment.

Hermione's hands moved, softly brushing back the long strands of honey blond hair that were hanging loose in front so they fell along Daphne's back. Gentle fingers traced up the sides of her neck, leaving a trail of warmth behind that sent a tremor along her spine until, like that night months ago, Hermione's hands cupped her face, her thumbs stroking her cheeks and Daphne's eyes fell closed, almost completely against her will.

Beside them, still sitting on the bed, Susan was almost vibrating with excitement and she couldn't have held back her startled gasp of surprise even if she'd been prepared for it. Hermione slowly leaned forward, her own eyes closing, and the moment their lips met both girls were surrounded in a silent burst of brilliant light.

From the outside, Susan watched as Hermione's silver aura and Daphne's green blended with auburn seemed to writhe and coil around each other as if battling for dominance for a few moments before they merged into each other. Before the light faded, and their lips parted, it was clear the difference that had been made. Hermione's aura was a blended mixture of green and silver with lines of auburn running through it, auburn that was a part of, but still apart from the rest, while Daphne showed blended green, auburn, and silver, yet the silver and auburn never interacted as the colors shimmered and shifted.

Daphne didn't think she'd ever experienced a sensation at once so tense but also so exquisitely sweet. Of the girls, Hermione had been the first she'd felt drawn to, the first she'd noticed and felt more toward as their feelings strengthened and grew through their association and being able to sense each other through their bond. She loved Susan completely, but the concern over how the girl kissing her would react made the moment all the sweeter and she had to force herself not to deepen the kiss or pull Hermione closer to her with the grip she had on the other girl's waist.

For Hermione, her first kiss had been when she was petrified and unable to feel it. Her second, she'd been so shocked that she'd hardly been able to register it, despite her many, many attempts to and her discussion with her mother over how it felt. Now, with her attention focused, her mind examined and catalogued the sensations. From the gentle puff of Daphne's breath across her cheek, to the feeling of the girl's hands on her waist, the warmth of her cheeks beneath her palms, and the extremely soft sensation of her lips. Before she pulled back, she'd examined every feeling that kissing Daphne had brought out in her and came to one, solid conclusion. She _really_ wanted to do it again.

Her eyes opened just in time to see Daphne's eyelids also lifting, revealing her cold blue irises, but before either of them could do or say anything else an extremely loud squeal startled them both. A body slammed into the side of them, two arms wrapping around them and all three staggered slightly, stumbling several steps before they fell over onto Daphne's bed. Hermione let out a slight grunt as Daphne landed on top of her, even as her mind attempted to make sense of the rapid fire rambling by her left ear.

"-as so beautiful. I can't believe how amazing it looks from the outside. You two were so bright I couldn't believe it and-"

"Susan! Slow down," Daphne blurted out, cutting the excited redhead off even as she attempted to move off of the girl beneath her.

Susan's lips clamped shut even though a few ecstatic, if muffled, sounds still escaped her, her eyes bright and excited. Eventually, the three of them managed to untangle themselves and move up the bed so they were laying on the pillows with Hermione in the middle between two of her bond mates.

"Now, what were you going on about?" Daphne asked, propping her head up on one hand with her elbow on the pillow so she could look at Susan over Hermione.

"You two!" she squealed, bouncing happily. "You bonded! When you kissed, I saw it. The light around you, Merlin, it was so _bright_ and the colors shifted together and blended except…" There she trailed off, sadly, as a thought occurred to her. "Except with Hermione, there were lines of my soul through the aura but they were separate, not blended together like yours and mine was when we saw Pomfrey. And in Daphne's the colors were all blended but mine and Hermione's colors never touched, they didn't interact at all."

Daphne and Hermione exchanged a look at that and Daphne gave her a small smile, jerking her head in Susan's direction. "I'm the only one that's kissed all three of my bond mates. Do you feel like adding a second to your collection?" she asked, her lips twitching into a teasing smile.

Hermione smiled, rolling her eyes at the blond's teasing tone of voice, but she felt she had to say something, first.

"Thank you."

Daphne blinked.

"For what?" she asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

"For letting me set the pace. I know you wanted that kiss to be more, and I want more, believe me I do, I'm just… it's still going to take me a while to really adjust to everything."

Daphne smiled and leaned forward, placing a quick peck to Hermione's lips before she leaned back, looking down at the bushy haired witch. "I don't mind going at your pace. I think I can speak for Susan when I say we'll do our absolute best not to push you any faster than you're comfortable with." Susan's rapid nodding spoke for itself so she said nothing and Hermione slowly turned onto her left side, coming face to face with the Bones heiress.

"We've all got a lot to get used to, and Harry to eventually get through to," Susan said. "We'll take all the time we need but I've been waiting since the summer before second year to say this to you, too. I love you, Hermione. We love you, and I can't begin to tell you how happy I am that you can say the same."

Hermione leaned forward and paused, their lips less than an inch apart. "I love you, too," she whispered, then closed the distance between them as light exploded around their bodies.

#####

"How dare he… how dare that… that little half blood _mongrel_. To speak to the Minister that way…"

Dolores Umbridge stalked through the halls of the Ministry toward her office, her posture and every step radiating a furious rage. Luckily, there was no one present so late at night to see and she entered her office with none the wiser. Quickly moving across the room to her desk she reached into her robes and pulled out a heavy gold medallion suspended from a thick chain.

It had taken days to get hold of this particular item without anyone knowing she had it, but patience was a virtue, and despite her temper, Dolores was a woman that understood the value of patience. Particularly when the end result would be teaching an upstart _thing_ the folly of disrespecting his betters. From the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, this medallion was one of only six in existence. Two were kept permanently at another location off the coast in the North Sea. One had disappeared years earlier, and the other three were kept in the Department under careful lock and key and protected by a multitude of wards and enchantments.

The one she held in her hands was the missing one, the one she had hidden herself a long time ago when she was fresh out of school and had only just started in her work for the Ministry. She had looked to the future and planned ahead, knowing that one day it might come in handy.

Reaching into one of her desks drawers she pulled out three photos and set them on top of the desks flat surface before she pulled out her wand and muttered a long string of an incantation, pointing the wand first at the medallion, then at the photo to the left. A pale blue glow surrounded both medallion and photo a moment later and she repeated the process with the other two photos. Taking the medallion firmly in hand she pressed the tip of her wand to her throat.

"Find them, but do not enter the school. If you see them, take them. Teach them what it means to defy the Ministry."

Removing her wand she tapped the medallion and it glowed a sickly green color before the light faded and she tucked it back into her robes, leaning back in her seat with a supremely satisfied smile on her face. On her desk, faces peered up from the photos. One, the photo used in the wanted poster for Sirius Black, in another, Potter stood with his sluts in a photo that was taken during the Ministry function where he'd been awarded his Order of Merlin, something she had been strongly against, but Cornelius would not be swayed when she attempted to convince him to block it. The last photo showed a slender waif of a girl with long white blond hair and slightly too large silvery blue eyes.

At that moment, a hundred Dementors that had yet to leave the forest that bordered the grounds of Hogwarts turned and moved toward the school with a singular purpose in mind.

They would wait.

They would bide their time.

But they felt a sense of glee, if such foul, dark beings were capable of such an emotion, because they knew that, eventually, the time to wait would end, and they would have the opportunity to feed.


	42. Visions in Silver

**Author's Notes: The Rotten Writer, here again, gang, with another chapter of Soul Scars. All right, we're gonna basically hit the ground running, here. This chapter is a whole heap ton of action and chaos and some major mojo gets flung about. And I get to unveil a secret I've been sitting on since chapter three, or thereabouts. Been a long time coming and I'm so excited to see what people think.**

 **Now, I'm sure some will disagree or have their own opinions as I've fudged with some canon material a bit, but I think it fits this story rather spectacularly. There's going to be a LOT of unanswered questions, reactions, discussions, etc. Patience, everyone. It'll all wrap up sooner than we think.**

 **Disclaimer: I own no part of Harry Potter. I'm just playing with these characters in a little story of my own devising.**

 **On with Chapter 41 of Soul Scars!**

Soul Scars Part Three

The Greengrass Problem

By,

Rtnwriter

The next week saw Harry Potter throwing himself into their training and his classwork with a fervor that almost worried his friends and bond mates. At his invitation Blaise joined them in their evening spell practice and he found the Slytherin wizard to be a veritable font of charms, hexes, and jinxes that he'd learned from his mother and the two of them set to with a will, exchanging lessons in various spell craft.

It was on the second day that Blaise asked when Harry practice with his sword, and received a blank look for his troubles.

"Why do you carry that bloody thing around if you don't know, or aren't learning, how to use it?" he'd demanded.

The resulting explanation left Blaise gobsmacked for some time before he was able to shake himself back to reality. "All right," he's said. "I'll write to mother tonight and have her send my practice swords."

"Your what?"

"Practice swords. Mother has had me learning swordplay since I was five. It isn't used much these days and as my House is not a Most Ancient and Noble I wouldn't be allowed to legally carry it, even once I take over as Head of House, but she still insisted that I learn. I'm surprised, Neville, that you didn't learn the sword, being one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and all."

Neville had only shrugged in response. "My gran was always sure I would just hurt myself, so she wouldn't let me learn."

"You're saying you could teach us?" Harry'd asked, looking thoughtfully at the ever present sword strapped to his waist.

"I can. It's stupid for you to have that thing and not know how to use it properly. You never know, it might save your life one day."

That Thursday, sword practice was added to their morning training, right after their workouts, for Harry and Neville.

#####

It was Saturday afternoon, two weeks after Harry's revelation regarding Peter Pettigrew, and Hermione completing her part of the bond with Susan and Daphne. They were officially several days into February, classes were moving along apace, especially after Daphne and Susan had successfully talked (bribed) Hermione into dropping Divination and Muggle Studies. Her workload had lessened, she was getting more sleep, and they were feeling better, and closer, than they had in quite some time.

The situation with Sirius was still unresolved, but with the Minister revoking the kiss-on-sight order and recalling the Dementors, that was looking to be a much better situation all around.

The major black cloud on their personal horizons was the direct result of a certain absentee wizard.

"Is he practicing, again?" Susan asked. She didn't move from her spot on the sofa by the fire in the Common Room where she was resting her head, comfortably, on Hermione's shoulder, but she did open her eyes. Through the bond, the could feel a sharp focus, and a fierce determination for a few moments before the sensation faded as his Occlumency shields clamped down and blocked off his emotions entirely.

"It certainly feels like it," Daphne sighed.

"He's determined to get the Patronus Charm mastered," said Hermione. "He swears that he's close, but he can't quite figure out what's stopping it from properly forming the full guardian."

Just the day before, Harry had come the closest yet to a corporeal patronus, but the form simply would not coalesce. The corona of silvery mist that had erupted from his hand had nearly seemed solid in and of itself, with three bulging shapes extending from the front that had offered no clue as to what sort of animal his patronus might be.

Blaise had suggested a Cerberus, and Harry had admitted a three headed creature could make some degree of sense, but he really wanted to master the charm and see for himself.

"He's been avoiding us," Susan muttered and Daphne and Hermione both sighed.

"He's still got a lot on his mind. He's worried about Sirius. He's concerned over the Pettigrew issue. You know he's been spending extra time on his Occlumency so he can learn the wording of that Prophecy the Headmaster brought up last year," Daphne pointed out.

"That's not the reason we haven't seen much of him the last two weeks."

Another sigh. "I know."

"I shouldn't have kissed him."

"Stop it, Susan," Hermione gently admonished her. "You know that's not why, either."

It was a true enough statement that caused all three a pang of guilt and remorse. The day after Hermione came to them, they'd gone to their weekly appointment with Madam Pomfrey and realized that, in their euphoria over their bonding and the deepening of their relationship, they had made a terrible mistake.

They forgot to talk to Harry about it.

When Daphne and Susan completed the bond during the break, they hadn't been completely sure what it was, despite being able to make a good guess, so they'd kept quiet about it. But when Hermione joined them, they were well aware, and mistakenly left Harry to be blindsided by discovering it in front of Madam Pomfrey. When she'd cast the usual spell over Hermione, there had been the expected mass of gold over her heart with its spreading veins and tendrils, and the aura of her soul had been a shimmering curtain of green, auburn, and silver.

The shock and confusion that had burst across their bond had literally brought Hermione to her knees, and would have done the same to Daphne and Susan had they not already been sitting in their usual beds. In the slight commotion that followed, none of them noticed him leaving the Wing until he was already gone.

"Maybe we shouldn't have-"

"Susan, do you regret bonding with us?" Hermione asked, quietly.

Susan's head shot up off her bond mate's shoulder, her eyes wide with terror.

"No!" she blurted out. "No, never. I love you, I could never regret-"

Hermione stopped the ramble that was about to begin by leaning close and pressing a quick kiss to the other girls lips, just enough to catch her attention, and then immediately pulled back. Even with the privacy charms, any overt public displays, they'd agreed, were to be avoided, and Hermione was still somewhat more hesitant about the increased physical nature of their new relationship, so for her to do so shocked Susan into silence.

"He's ours," Hermione told her in a firm tone. "He belongs to us. But he's not where we are, yet. He's not even where I am, and I think we can agree I'm the least confident about this whole thing out of the three of us. Maybe it's not fair to him, but I don't think that we should be expected to put our lives on hold because Harry still has some things to work through. Did I ask you and Daphne not to kiss while I tried to figure out what I wanted?"

Susan, mutely, shook her head.

"No, I didn't. I didn't ask because it wasn't my place. I don't control either of you, and you are more than able to make your own decisions. So I would never have dreamed of doing that. Us bonding… that's not Harry's problem. The problem is that we screwed up by not talking to him. We should have, and we failed to do that. That's entirely our fault."

Daphne leaned forward and turned in her spot on their sofa to Hermione's left so she could look a little more directly at Susan on the girl's other side. "She's right. I want him with us too, but we shouldn't have to deny ourselves other things we want, waiting on him. We need to find a moment to apologize for how we handled things, yes. And if we can think of a way to ease him into the idea of 'us' we absolutely need to do it. But if not… he needs to decide for himself, and we can afford to be patient, we know it's only a matter of time, really."

Susan sighed, nodded, and laid her head back on Hermione's shoulder, wrapping one arm around the witch's waist. In response, Hermione only adjusted the book she had been holding open on her lap so that it didn't interfere with the redheads gently possessive grip on her body.

"You're right. Both of you. It's just…"

When Susan trailed off Hermione lifted her right hand to softly stroke the girl's cheek. "I know, hon. I know. Things just aren't completely right without him with us too. Just be patient."

Susan squirmed slightly before tilting her head back, just enough to look up at Hermione. "You know," she said in a hopeful tone of voice. "I might find it easier to be patient if you kissed me."

Hermione laughed quietly even as a light pink rose in her cheeks. "You are incorrigible, you know that, right?"

"But you love me."

"Well, I can't very well argue with that," she murmured, slowly tilting her head toward the girl beside her.

#####

"Gods damned… stupid piece of… argh!" Harry's progressively more colorful language devolved into a wordless scream of frustration and he scooped up a fist sized rock and hurled it as far out over the Black Lake as he could.

The rock vanished beneath the placid surface of the lake, sending up a splash and causing ripples to radiate out across the water for a time before all fell still.

 _Too bad my brain can't just be that still and calm,_ he thought.

His feet started carrying him away from the lake, wandering aimlessly with his head down, both hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets as he started arguing with himself.

"Why won't this bloody charm work?" he almost snarled in frustration. "I've tried just about every happy memory I have and it's not enough."

 _You still have a couple memories you haven't tried,_ the ever present voice in the back of his head whispered. Normally, when that voice sounded, his conscience, he supposed, it sounded like his own voice talking to him. Now, however, it sounded rather distinctly like Hermione.

"Those aren't happy memories, at least… not entirely happy," he tried to argue, well aware of which memories the voice was referring to.

 _Why not?_ Daphne's voice sounded in his head and he bit back a groan.

"Because they're also very confusing memories. I think the confusion would lessen the happy feelings."

 _What's confusing about them? Daphne and I both-_

"Yes! Yes, I'm well aware of what they did," he burst out. "I was there, both times."

 _But you didn't listen to me,_ Susan's voice continued, apparently unperturbed by his interruption. _I told you, Daphne wouldn't kiss someone she didn't feel very strongly toward._

"So?"

 _And I said that she and I kissed because we loved each other._

Harry said nothing, until Hermione's cross tones came back.

 _Oh, honestly, Harry!_

He could just picture her in front of him now, hands on her hips, one foot tapping impatiently with a mild glare on her beautiful face.

 _Harry James Potter! You are not_ that _thick!_

"I don't know what you mean," he muttered, wondering when exactly it was that complaining to himself about the Patronus Charm had turned into his girls, somehow, berating him even when he was avoiding them.

 _Are they really my girls, though?_ he wondered.

He shook his head, frowning at the darkening loam beneath his feet as he walked. "Don't worry about that," he muttered.

 _You know this,_ Daphne's voice came again. _You just don't trust it._

"I don't know," he protested.

 _Think, Harry. What else did I tell you in the courtyard that day?_

"Susan said she wouldn't kiss someone she didn't want to be with."

 _And?_

"And that all three of them understood and would wait…" His voice trailed off as he, absently, stepped over a thick tree root. "But Susan and Daphne are together!"

 _But is that all? What about me?_ Hermione's voice asked.

He paused, staring up at the green canopy above his head. "That's right, what about Hermione?" he muttered thoughtfully. "If Daphne and Susan are together, how'd Hermione complete the bond with… both of… them…" A deep red suffused Harry's face as his mind took a gutter bound turn that he was positive he shouldn't be considering and he shook his head so violently that he actually threw himself off balance. He staggered a step or two, felt his right foot catch on something, and he went sprawling to land face first on the forest floor.

"What the-" he started to yell but cut himself off when he looked up and realized just _where_ he was. "How the hell did I end up here?" he asked himself as he slowly rose to his feet and carefully examined his surroundings.

Somehow, in his distracted state, his aimlessly wandering feet had carried him into the Forbidden Forest. He had no idea how long he'd walked, or how deep into the forest he was since he couldn't even see the castle from where he was. In fact, he looked around again to confirm it, he wasn't even certain which direction he'd come from to end up where he was now standing.

"Crap in a hat," he muttered. "What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into now, Potter?"

#####

With an hour left before Dinner, the girls met up with Cedrella, who had been called away earlier in the day to make an appearance outside of the school as Tonks, and they went off in search of Neville, Blaise, and Harry. Twenty minutes later, at the Room of Requirement, they were two for three, with no idea where Harry was.

"What do you mean you don't know where he is?" Cedrella demanded when both boys claimed no knowledge of Harry's location.

"We were here earlier, and he got frustrated about the Patronus," Neville informed them. "He left about half-an-hour ago. Said he wanted to walk and clear his head," Blaise informed them, standing somewhat stiffly as he was thoroughly dressed down by the disguised Aruror.

Tonks swore and looked carefully around to see if they were alone. A moment later her wand was in her hand and she cast a spell that didn't appear to do anything to the observing students.

"What was that?" Hermione asked, curiously.

"It reveals people hiding under disillusionment or invisibility cloaks. No, I didn't expect to find any, but my mentor would have my hide if I didn't check. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

The five of them jumped as she roared the last two words at the top of her voice, but she wasn't paying any attention to them as she pressed the tip of her wand to her throat.

"Shack," she said. "Potter has wandered off on his own and none of us know where. Check the map and get back to me with a location." Extending her arm she muttered the incantation to the Patronus Charm and then waited as the silver shape shot down the hall and disappeared.

Blaise was regarding Cedrella Black with a raised brow and a questioning expression, but she was far too distracted to notice, or care. As he was a part of Harry's group of friends, she'd give him the benefit of the doubt, for now, but there would be a conversation to be had later so that he knew not to speak of who, or rather, what, she really was.

The handful of minutes that they waited for Kingsley's response were tense, the girls standing close together while Blaise and Neville attempted to look properly unconcerned, though both boys were as tight as a coiled spring with worry. Neville, in particular, was mentally berating himself for letting his friend go off alone.

Another five minutes passed before a glowing silver form rocketed down the hall toward them. It slowed as it approached and came to a halt right in front of Tonks. The glowing lynx opened its mouth, and Kingsley's voice issued forth. "Potter is not on the map. I repeat, Potter is not on the map. I have no idea where he could have gone at this time. A message has already been sent to Amelia."

The lynx vanished and Tonks swore again as she started walking briskly down the hall, only to be brought up short by a second lynx patronus appearing in front of her.

"Pettigrew spotted! He's leaving the edge of the map, moving into the Forbidden Forest."

Before the glowing animal finished fading away, all six of them were sprinting down the hall.

"Tonks!" Hermione shouted, bringing the Auror up short again. "Shortcut, this way." The three girls, with Neville in tow, ran past the corridor where Tonks had been turning right to head toward the stairs. With a glance at Blaise, who shrugged, they followed after the running Gryffindors.

Ducking into the same alcove that Harry had shown them on Halloween, Neville pressed his wand against the crimson colored brick and spoke, "Gryffindors charge ahead."

With the grinding of stone on stone, the slide formed and Tonks grinned at the sight of it.

"Brilliant," she muttered and started to change back into her usually preferred form, transfiguring her school uniform into a set of Auror robes, at least in appearance. "Sorry, kid," she said, shooting a look in Blaise's direction, before she took a running leap, diving headfirst into the open slide.

The Slytherin wizard's mouth was hanging open, his eyes fixed on where Tonks had just vanished. He was brought back to the present when Neville threw himself into the slide and vanished down into the dark, the girls right behind him.

#####

"Okay," Harry muttered, looking around again for some sign of how to get back to the castle. "Think, Potter. It's getting dark, you've no idea where you are, and the Marauders Map stops at the edge of the grounds, so unless Kingsley saw you walk off the map, no one will know you're out here."

Lifting his hand palm up above his head, Harry muttered a spell and an orb of light, five inches across, appeared floating above his hand. He muttered a second spell, and when he lowered his arm, the light remained fixed in place, floating above his head.

"Dark negated," he muttered. "Course that might just draw some of the nasties around here to me." He was tempted to draw the sword hanging at his hip, but resisted the urge. Yes, it might help if he was attacked, but he'd barely begun learning to use it, and with the deadly poison of the basilisk impregnated into the blade, he was just as likely to kill himself as he was an enemy if he accidentally cut himself with it. So the sword remained sheathed, and instead he pulled up his magic, keeping it close to the surface so he might cast as quickly as possible, should the need arise.

Turning slowly, he picked a direction, hoping it lead toward the castle, and started walking.

It was a nerve wracking experience, to say the least. The light above his head cast shifting shadows as he moved and he constantly found himself imagining that he saw something moving, only to freeze and realize it was just the shadows moving with the light. He walked, slowly and carefully, for at least twenty minutes, before a sound caught his attention and he stood, stock still, head tilted to the side to better try and hear it.

Deciding on a direction, he turned to his right and struck out, carefully using everything he knew about moving quietly to make his way through the brush and between the massive trees that made up the forest. After a minute, he muttered, "nox," and the light above his head winked out, plunging him into darkness. He waited again until his eyes adjusted to the dark beneath the trees and then started moving forward even more cautiously than he had before as he closed in on the sound.

Ahead of him, between the trees, he could make out a dimly glowing light, one that grew stronger as he drew closer and, eventually, he found himself standing at the edge of a clearing, looking on, perhaps, the last thing he might have expected to see.

Within the clearing, a half dozen thestrals stood, their wings folded back along their scaly flanks, skeletal forms standing tall as they moved about, each of them jostling for position, trying to get closer to the figure standing in the center of the open space. With fairy lights dancing around her and reflecting off her pale skin and white blond hair, Luna Lovegood hummed quietly to herself and he recognized her humming for the sound he'd heard that had drawn him there. In one hand she held a heavy looking, galvanized steel bucket. Her right hand was held out, palm up, for one of the thestrals to lick a dark liquid that coated her arm from her hand to half way up her forearm.

When she reached into the bucket, the light shimmered against the liquid, and Harry was startled to realize that it was blood.

"Luna!" he cried, bursting out into the clearing, startling the small herd, who backed away rapidly to the far edge of the clearing as he bore down on the tiny blond. "Luna, are you hurt? What happened? You're bleeding."

He came up to her, snatching her arm with one hand and began carefully examining the blood coated extremity, looking frantically for any sign of a wound. He was brought up short by the tinkling sound of Luna's laughter and turned away from the arm he was holding to look deep into her too large silvery blue eyes.

"I am not at all hurt, Harry," she said, still laughing. "But thank you, for being concerned."

He blinked, mouth moving up and down a few times before he found the power of speech. "But the blood… your arm…"

"The blood isn't mine," she said, and gently tugged her arm from his grasp. Reaching into the bucket she was still holding she pulled out a chunk of raw, bloody meat. Turning, she tossed it, underhand, toward the thestrals and one of them stretched its head forward, snatching the flying piece of flesh out of the air with its teeth. In a blink, the meat had vanished and the rest of the herd started to push forward again, each of them stretching their necks toward the bucket.

"I was just feeding the thestrals," she told Harry as she pulled out another piece of meat and threw it to one of the other skeletal creatures. "Mister Hagrid lets me help with them sometimes. They're the only domesticated herd in all of Great Britain, you know. I find them to be such nice creatures, and I feel bad for how misunderstood they are."

"I remember," he muttered as his heart rate began to return to normal. "They're a lot like me, right?"

"Or you're a lot like them," she agreed, nodding her head. "Either way."

He stood there for a few minutes while Luna emptied her bucket, and when she'd finished, the smallest of the creatures was still nuzzling its way around the rim, looking for more of the morsels she'd been handing out.

"I'm sorry, Ferdinand," she cooed, gently stroking the scaly neck with her bloodless hand after setting down the bucket. "All gone. But I'll bring some more soon, okay?"

In a few more minutes, the herd had wandered away into the trees and Luna plucked her wand from where it was tucked behind her ear, using it to vanish the blood from her hand before tucking it away again.

"What brings you out here, Harry? You seem to have gathered a rather impressive wrackspurt infestation, again." She tilted her head to the side, studying the air around his head carefully. "That seems to happen whenever one of your girls decides to have a serious discussion with you."

Harry snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. "If you mean they confuse the hell out of me, you're right. But that's not important right now. Do you know how to get back to the castle? I was walking and not really paying attention to where I was going. Next thing I knew I was lost among the trees and I have no idea which direction the school is from here."

Luna straightened up, nodding calmly.

"Yes, I know exactly where we are. I come out here quite often, like I said."

"Well, if you're done, may I escort you back to the castle?" he asked, smiling broadly and offering his left arm to her.

The flush that suffused Luna's cheeks was almost unnoticeable in the dim light, but her bright smile could have lit up a darkened mine shaft and she nodded, wrapping her arm around his.

"Thank you, good Sir," she said, her nose in the air and a haughty expression on her face that caused him to smile just as broadly.

Together, they turned, and managed two steps before coming to a stop as a stooped, fat little figure of a wizard, dressed in ragged robes, stepped around a tree in their path, wand already trained on them.

"H-hello, H-H-Harry," he stammered. "It's n-nice to see you again."

#####

Chaos reigned on the steps of the castle. Voices were raised, words were said, ultimatums were given.

"Look," Amelia snapped. "I know you want to help but we already went through this once before, you kids can't help us look for Harry, or Pettigrew. He's a fugitive at best, possibly even a murderer. And we have no idea where Harry is, just that he's not in the castle. What do you think you're going to do?"

"We can feel him," Susan insisted.

"But that doesn't tell you where he is," Amelia pointed out. "That doesn't help you find him. And isn't he still using his Occlumency?"

Susan squirmed at that. "Yes," she admitted with great reluctance.

"There's not a great deal any of us can do right now, unfortunately. We don't know where he is, or how he left the grounds." Amelia sighed in frustration and raked her hands back through her hair. "Is it too hard for you guys to have a quiet year?" she asked, only half joking.

"I'd love one," Hermione muttered, staring out over the grounds as if hoping she'd catch sight of their elusive bond mate.

A moment later all three girls staggered, hands coming up to their heads and the conversation between the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall and the Aurors with Amelia came to an abrupt halt as the three of them hissed in sudden pain.

"What is it?" Dumbledore asked, moving closer to the them, his blue eyes studying them intently.

"Harry…. his Occlumency shields just… just shattered," Hermione ground out from between clenched teeth.

"Is he hurt?" Amelia demanded, one hand steadying Susan.

Daphne shook her head. "No. No he's not hurt." she looked up, her own eyes squinted slightly in pain. "He's pissed."

#####

"Wormtail!" Harry snarled furiously, shoving Luna behind him with his left hand as he raised his right hand in front of him.

"Leave that wand in the holster, Harry-"

"You don't get to call me that!" he roared, taking a large step toward the fat little wizard with his overly large, rat-like teeth. The man flinched slightly, but his wand stayed trained firmly on the teen in front of him.

"You're right… I don't have the right to use your name. I-I-I failed. I was a coward… but you're going to help me."

"Why would I help you? You got my parents murdered. Didn't you?!" he bellowed and Pettigrew flinched again.

"I know the Dark Lord still lives. I heard the rumors. I heard you and the Longbottom boy talking in the dorms. You're going to help me find him. You're going to help me bring him back."

"I'd die before I ever helped you or Voldemort."

At the sound of the name Pettigrew flinched again and Harry lunged for him. A banishing hex slammed into his chest and he was thrown back several feet to land on his back on the forest floor as Luna let out a short scream. Cursing himself, Harry heard footsteps moving toward them, then there was a glowing wand tip in front of his face, Pettigrew's own features illuminated by the light from the curse that hung at the tip of his wand.

"If you d-don't help," he said, sadly. "I'll just have to kill the girl." His arm started to move, directing his wand to the side where Harry presumed that Luna was standing.

A low growl filled the clearing and Pettigrew straightened, just in time for a large, black shape to slam into him, sending him careening to the side. Harry scrambled to his feet, moving to place himself in front of Luna again. A dozen feet away, Pettigrew was rolling on the ground, fighting with a huge black dog. The wizard had both hands up, grasping the creature by the throat, barely holding it up as teeth snapped shut repeatedly right in front of his face.

"Sirius!" Harry yelled and an instant later the dog changed, becoming a skeletal looking man with wild, overgrown hair and an unkempt beard, looming over the prone figure on the ground.

"I'm going to kill you, you bastard!" he snarled and his arm came up, wand held in his right hand as he prepared to bring it down on the man beneath him.

Without thinking, Harry broke into a run. "No!" he shouted, and leaped, wrapping both of his arms around Sirius' raised limb, his weight dragging the man to the side.

"He betrayed your parents, Harry!" Sirius cried. "I know you think I did it but I swear. I wasn't their Keeper. I didn't… I would never-"

"I know. We already figured that out, but you can't kill him."

"He deserves it!" Sirius bellowed, his eyes wild as he spun toward Pettigrew.

"Maybe he does! Maybe he does, but not like this. If you kill him, you could go back to prison. You're not a murderer-"

"Expelliarmus!"

A bolt of red light struck Sirius in the chest, sending him flying back and Harry ducked instinctively, his eyes following the path of the wand as it flew through the air to land at Pettigrew's feet. While they'd been arguing the rat had picked his own wand back up and now had it trained on Harry again.

"I never wanted to betray anyone," he practically sobbed. "I never wanted to!"

"Then why did you?" Harry demanded, his heart pounding in his ears as the girl's fear and worry flooded into him through their bond. He shook where he stood, his hands trembling in a blind fury. "You were supposed to be their friend. I found my mum's journals. She wrote about the Marauders, four of the best friends she'd ever seen, and you betray them? WHY?"

At Harry's full throated shout a flock of something burst into motion in the distance. The fluttering of wings and the raucous cries of whatever birds he'd disturbed filled the night air around them for several moments before it faded and all they could hear was Harry's labored breath, Sirius' pained groans, and Pettigrew's rapid, fearful panting.

 _Where's Luna?_ Harry wondered, but he didn't dare try to look around to find the girl, not with a wand pointed at him.

He took a step forward and Pettigrew straightened up, still holding his wand trained on the teen.

"D-don't come any closer."

"Answer me!" Harry bellowed. "Why did you betray them? How could you?"

"The Dark Lord… he was so strong… so powerful… if I hadn't done it, then he would have killed me-"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" Harry roared, his eyes glowing ever brighter as his fury mounted and Pettigrew actually whimpered at the sight, shrinking in on himself. Despite that, the wand in his hand remained firmly fixed, pointed at the center of Harry's chest. "If any of my friends counted on me that way I would happily died to protect them, and I know they'd do the same for me. They were your friends!"

"Friends? They mocked and pitied me. Poor Peter, the weak Marauder. I was their lackey, not a friend!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Surprisingly agile, Pettigrew ducked the spell that came flying at him from off to Harry's right and returned fire. "Stupefy!" he roared, and Harry heard Luna let out a short cry, but he was already moving. The moment Pettigrew's attention shifted he was running across the grass. Blinded by rage, only one thing would suffice. He was close by the time the miserable rat turned back toward him and Harry's left hand flew out, knocking the wand from his hand as his right balled up into a fist and shot forward.

Just as his fist struck Pettigrew's jaw he snarled out, "Stupefy," and with a satisfying, and loud, crack, followed by a flash of red light, Pettigrew dropped to the ground, unconscious before his body even hit the dirt.

His breath coming in heaving gasps, Harry spun around to look for Luna, only to find the tiny slip of a girl standing up from where she'd thrown herself to the ground to avoid Pettigrew's return stunner. Her expression was calm and placid, but her wide eyes showed how scared she was and Harry rushed up to her, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Thank you," he muttered as he nearly crushed the girl against his chest. "Your timing was absolutely perfect."

"The nargles told me when to try," she whispered, her voice quivering slightly.

A groan from behind them caught their attention and they turned back to Sirius, who was slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position.

"Damn, Pup," he said, his voice still hoarse from infrequent use. "What the hell did you do?"

Harry couldn't help but grin, keeping one arm firmly wrapped around Luna's shoulders as he led her toward the escaped convict. "I punched him," he said, not willing to mention his wandless magic.

Sirius stared at him, blankly, for several long moments before he barked out a laugh, sounding just like a dog in the process. Briefly, Harry wondered if extended time in his animagus form might have had some unusual effects on the man, but pushed those thoughts aside.

"Where's my wand?" Sirius asked, and Harry suddenly went stiff.

"Why?"

"Because I still need to kill the damn rat."

"No, Padfoot, you can't kill him."

Sirius blinked. "That's the second time you've said that name. How do you know it?"

"I found my mum's journals, the ones she kept while she was in school. She talked about you guys. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs."

"I haven't heard that name in over a decade, until you said it on Halloween."

"Moony is up at the castle. Please… you aren't a killer, Padfoot. You aren't a murderer. Don't let him, drag you down to his level," he sneered the last in disgust, glaring at the sprawled out form of Peter Pettigrew.

"I don't have anything else, kid. If they catch me, it's the Dementor's Kiss. At the very least, I intend to earn it before they get me."

"But the kiss-on-sight order has been revoked," Harry insisted, causing Sirius to jerk and spin around from where he'd started searching for his wand to stare at Harry.

"Wh-what?" he whispered unbelievingly.

"I'm serious-"

"No, I'm Sirius," Sirius interrupted, a small grin turning up his lips.

"Really?" Harry asked, glaring at the man. "I can't believe you're making puns right now."

Sirius shrugged, completely unrepentant. "It's what I do. Now explain this to me, quick."

As quickly as he could, and with Luna's help, Harry explained what he'd been up to since the summer, even down to how he'd figured out that Pettigrew must have still been alive.

"I managed to get Minister Fudge to call off the Dementors and Luna here got an article published in her dad's magazine. I paid to have a copy sent to every wizarding home in the country. You never got a trial. For that alone the Ministry should just declare you a free man. But I wanted you to get the trial you should have had. That way you can testify under veritaserum and everyone will know that you had nothing to do with what happened. If can we bring him in too," he kicked at Pettigrew's leg, "even better."

Sometime during the explanation Sirius had sunk back to the ground, sitting heavily as a huge weight seemed to come off his shoulders and a sensation he hadn't felt in more than a decade bloomed in his chest.

"You really mean it," he murmured, staring in awe at the teen wizard in front of him with his arm still wrapped around the tiny girl at his side.

"I do. I mean it, Padfoot. Come up to the castle. There's two Aurors there that are on our side, and my guardian is Head of the DMLE. They'll make absolutely certain that you get the trial you should have had."

Sirius' eyes were suspiciously wet under the fairy lights that still flickered and danced over their heads and he took several deep breaths before he pushed himself back to his feet.

"You… you're so much like James," he muttered, thickly. "You look so much like him, but those eyes of yours… I'd say they were Lily's, but hers never glowed like that."

"I'll explain it another time. It's a long story," Harry said as Luna flicked her wand, levitating the unconscious wizard on the ground into the air so they could start walking back. "Which way is the castle?" Harry asked Luna.

"It's that way," she said, pointing with the hand that was still holding her wand. As a result, Pettigrew's floating form followed the direction of her wand and there was a thud as his body bounced off the side of a tree.

Quickly, she pulled her hand back, bringing Pettigrew with it, and she looked him over for a moment before turning her attention back to Harry. "Oops?" she said in the most unconvincing tone of voice that either of them thought they'd ever heard and Sirius burst out into that strange barking laughter again as he collapsed back to the ground.

It took nearly five minutes to get the man off the dirt again, and when he finally got his feet under him he was still chuckling and wiping tears off his cheeks.

"Come on, Sirius. We need to get out of here."

With no more interruptions, they started making their way toward the castle.

"Look's like you got a few things from me," Sirius said as they walked, a grin on his face and a smug note in his voice. At the blank look Harry gave him he nodded toward the teens arm, which was still wrapped around Luna's shoulders. "I was quite the ladies man, and your parents made me your Godfather. I think I'll take credit for your obvious skill with the fairer sex," he explained, his grin growing broader.

Harry suddenly flushed, but resisted the urge to leap away from Luna. He did squeeze the shoulder beneath his hand, however, and stepped slowly away from her, enough to lower his arm.

"I promise you, it's not like that, Padfoot. Luna is a really good friend but… well I'm not actually with anyone…" He fidgeted nervously and trailed off, unsure exactly how to address that particular topic.

"Yes, Mister Boardman. Harry and I are not together. I'm fairly certain I wouldn't have a place with his girls, anyway. But it has been very nice, having friends. They taught me what real friends are like." Her dreamy voice washed over them and she kept walking, pulling slightly ahead of the two wizards as Sirius fell into step beside Harry, looking more than a little confused.

"Your girls?" he asked, arching one brow in Harry's direction.

"It's a long story," Harry sighed. "I'm not… I don't know what's going on, but yes, there's my three closest friends, all girls. I've kind of thought of them as 'my girls' for some time but… well I don't really know. It's… it's complicated."

A younger Sirius Black might have had any number of less than sound bits of advice to offer. He also might have taken the opportunity to tease Harry mercilessly. This version of Sirius Black, however, had suffered more than a decade in Azkaban for his foolish desire for revenge, and he was determined to be a better man than he'd been in the past.

"Harry?" he asked, hesitantly as they followed Luna through the forest.

"Yeah?"

"You know… your parents named me your Godfather. Of course you know, I already said that," he grumbled the last under his breath, but Harry still caught it.

"I know, Sirius. The journals, and some letters, said as much. But that wasn't enough to get you a trial, they never said if you actually went through the Oaths or not."

"I did. The day of your first birthday, in fact. Best damn day of my life, I promise you that. I… I screwed up, Harry. I was stupid, and instead of taking care of you that night, like I should have, I went tearing off after Wormtail," he said in disgust. "I'm sure you wouldn't want to live with a broken old dog like me. Especially with someone like old Bonsey as your guardian, but… I promise you… I intend to do better. If you ever need to talk. If you ever need advice. I'm a joker, it's what I do, and I don't think I'll be able to avoid teasing or poking fun at times, but I want you to know that I'll never dismiss you or take your worries lightly. I want to be there for you, like I should have been before."

As the man talked, the lump that formed in Harry's throat made any attempt to respond completely impossible. Instead he just stopped, and when Sirius turned to face him, he threw his arms around the man and squeezed as hard as he could. As soon as he hit, both of them let out a pained grunt and separated, rubbing their sides where the hilt of Harry's sword had caught between them and jabbed them both, quite painfully.

"What's with the sword, Pup?" Sirius asked, wincing as he gingerly probed his side.

"Umm… it's a-"

"Long story." Sirius eyed him askance for a moment. "You seem to have a fairly large number of long stories for a thirteen-year-old," he commented idly as he started walking again, Harry falling into step as they hurried to catch up to Luna, who had not paused when they did.

Harry sighed, his brow furrowing into a deep frown. "I'm learning, more and more, that I don't seem to be allowed to have a quiet, normal life. It's chaos and mayhem everywhere I go, and somehow I always seem stuck in the middle of it."

Sirius studied him as they walked, carefully analyzing Harry's profile.

"We're gonna have to have a long talk," he said, receiving a silent nod in response.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but cut himself off and broke into a sprint as, somewhere ahead of them, a shrill scream tore through the night air.

#####

"He's calmed down," Susan reported in a quiet murmur to her aunt.

"What'd you feel?"

Susan frowned with Daphne and Hermione edging in closer where the four of them stood at the base of the steps. "It was confusing," she said.

"He was furious. So furious he lost his shields, couldn't concentrate on keeping them. Then there was fear, but he wasn't afraid for himself, he was scared for someone else, or something else, maybe," Hermione muttered before Daphne took over.

"Anger again, more fear, something… something like elation? Joy? I can't really describe it." She shrugged and pushed her long hair back over her shoulder in a frustrated gesture. "It's calmed down to an excited bubbling of emotions. A whole mix of things tossed together." She closed her eyes, her brow furrowing as she focused as hard as she could on their link. "I'd say he's… he's talking to someone, someone he's happy to see, but I'm not certain, this thing isn't really _that_ specific."

"Oh!"

Amelia turned back to Hermione who'd suddenly straightened up, sharply, and a small smile graced her features. "He's happy. He's pushing that toward us. Happy, a little tired, but he's not angry or scared anymore."

Amelia let out a sigh. "That's good. Any guesses if I'm going to have to ground him again?"

The girls all shrugged.

"Well, I'll just wait for him to get here, then, and find out for myself," she muttered, arms crossed over her chest.

The entire group was getting progressively more restless as time went on and the last quarter moon rose ever higher into the sky. As such, the visibility was not nearly as bad as it could have been, and when a floating shape exited the forest at the edge of the grounds with a figure walking behind it, Hermione instantly spotted the moonlight reflecting off of the head of white blond hair.

"What is Luna doing out there?" she blurted out and all conversation suddenly stopped as every eye turned to follow where she was pointing.

"Is she floating a person?"

"It's not Harry," Susan muttered in response to her aunt's question. He's not injured."

"Shack?"

He pulled the map out of his robes without responding and quickly unfolded it, his eyes searching for the edge of the grounds.

"It's Pettigrew. The map shows Luna Lovegood and Peter Pettigrew."

"Luna caught him?" Susan burst out, her eyes wide.

"Let us find out," Dumbledore said, and began making his way across the grounds toward the distant figure.

The entire group started after him with an admonishment from Amelia for the teens to stay close to her or the other Aurors. They were still more than a hundred feet away when they came.

In the span of a handful of seconds the temperature, already cold, suddenly plummeted and Amelia felt a sudden wash of guilt and pain flood over her. She swore, loudly, and only just clamped down on her Occlumency when scores of Dementors came flooding out of the forest near Hagrid's hut. Like a horrid flock of birds, the cloud of nightmares swooped through the air, changing direction toward Luna in the distance.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A burst of silver light erupted in front of them as Albus Dumbledore, the man that defeated the dark wizard Grindelwald, in a full fury, summoned his phoenix patronus as he broke into a run across the ground that no man his age should have been capable of.

Quickly, she summoned her own patronus and sent it bounding toward the Dementors as Shack and Tonks did the same on either side of her.

"Get back to the castle, now!" she screamed to the students, shoving Susan toward the structure behind them before she started running after the Headmaster.

Luna's terrified scream would haunt her nights for weeks as a swirling vortex of Dementors surrounded her. The patronuses seemed not to be as effective as they should have been. Phoenix, jack rabbit, lynx, and her own, a large dog, would glide through the cloud and the creatures would retreat at their approach, but instead of fleeing the area entirely, they immediately pressed close again as soon as the glowing animals moved past.

A hard blow struck her right side as they came within twenty feet of the girl on the ground and Amelia caught a glimpse of a Dementor gliding away as she spun from the force of the impact to land on the frost covered ground beneath her. Cries rose around her followed by more impacts as the others were attacked as well and somewhere she heard the Headmaster cry out before another impact with an accompanying crunching sound reached her ears.

Groggily, she lifted her head as three voices shouted in perfect unison, " _Expecto Patronum!"_

#####

With Sirius on his heels, Harry sprinted out into utter chaos. Dementors blotted out the sky above as screaming and shrieking echoed in the back of his mind, threatening to overwhelm him if not for his Occlumency and the four Patronuses that flitted about, keeping the worst of the Dementors effects at bay.

Beside him, Sirius changed into his dog form and straddled Lunas body where she lay curled up on the ground, moaning quietly.

"Mummy… please… wake up mummy…"

Harry's eyes darted back and forth, taking in the scene as quickly as he could. The Headmaster, Amelia, Shack, and Tonks were all laid out on the ground less than thirty feet away as, one by one, the glowing silver animals began to fade away.

Beyond them, the girls walked closer and closer with Blaise and Neville behind them and at the sight, Harry's blood ran cold in his veins.

 _No,_ he thought. _Run. Get away from here._

On they came, never slowing or faltering in their steps.

Behind them, Neville was practically dragging Blaise, his wand out with a faint patronus shield extending from the tip, their only defense against the creatures horrible effects.

Hermione stood in the center with Susan on her right and Daphne on her left as they stopped in the middle of the scattered group of people. Harry's knees buckled, the screaming growing louder and louder in his mind and he tried to scream to them to run, but no sound escaped his throat.

Susan put her left hand on Hermione's right shoulder even as Daphne placed her right hand on the girl's left shoulder. All three of their eyes began to glow as their long hair rose about their heads, waving gently as if they were floating in a pool of water.

They each lifted their wand hands, pointing straight up toward the sky, and with one voice they screamed, " _Expecto Patronum!"_

The resulting corona of mist that burst from their wands was no simple shield. They created a dome, thirty feet across and twenty high that enclosed nearly all of them and filled each person with a sense of warmth and safety unlike anything Harry could remember experiencing before.

"Holy shite," he muttered, staring wide eyed at his girls as the screams receded, driven back by the powerful shield. Outside the dome, Blaise and Neville struggled closer, staggering almost drunkenly toward safety and Harry shot to his feet as he spotted one of the Dementors swooping in behind them, half rotted hands extended to grab his friends.

In an instant, Harry could tell they wouldn't make it before the creature was on them.

"Blaise!" he bellowed, and, without conscious thought as to what he was doing, he drew the Sword of Gryffindor in a single sweeping motion, lifted it to point straight in front of him, then wandlessly banished it as hard as he could.

The sword leapt from his hand and hissed its way through the air, passing through the dome, striking the Dementor in the very center of its body. A high pitched shriek rent the air around them, causing even the swarm above to pause. Everyone of them watched as a plume of black flames burst into being from the point where the sword impaled the thing and in moments, consumed it entirely.

Wide eyed and terrified, Blaise snatched up the sword as it fell to the ground and lifted it, eyeing how the blade gleamed with the same silver radiance as the Patronus guardians. With Neville helping to support him, and vice versa, Blaise Zabini proceeded to show any Dementor that came near them just what eight years of sword training could do.

Three more fell to the gleaming blade before the two boys crossed the edge of the dome and dropped to their knees inside, panting harshly. They were safe. The adults were slowly gathering their wits, save the disturbingly still form of the Headmaster. Still, Harry worried it wouldn't be fast enough. He could feel the girls tiring, and when they could no longer hold the shield, the would all die.

#####

Amelia sat up slowly, wincing and shaking her head gingerly.

 _Get it together, Bones,_ she chided herself. _This is not the time to fall apart._

"Son of a-"

"Stop him!"

Her eyes snapped open to see a rat darting away, with a huge black dog on its tail, barking and growling furiously. She rose up onto one knee, squinting as she snatched up her wand and tried to aim for the miniscule shape of the rodent.

 _You are not getting away again_ , Sirius mentally snarled, his eyes fixed on the rat as he ran past the edge of the dome without even thinking of the Dementors swarming outside it. The rodent turned a sharp right and the huge black dog turned to cut him off, sending Wormtail scurrying back toward the dome. Back and forth they went, Padfoot blocking every attempt to run away, slowly moving closer and closer until…

 _MINE!_ he thought, lunging forward to snap his jaws down on the rodent when his head suddenly exploded in pain.

At the last possible moment, Wormtail changed back, spinning quickly and his right foot lashed out, catching Padfoot a solid blow across the side of his head, sending him spinning away with a pained yelp. Frantically, the cowardly wizard whipped around to run and actually managed all of three steps before something slammed into him that sent him toppling heavily to the ground on his back.

Dizzy and weak, he pushed himself up to a sitting position and stared, uncomprehendingly at the mangled stump of what had once been his left leg. Ten or so feet away, he saw his foot and lower leg lying on the dirt while nothing else remained past mid thigh.

"Heh… heh heh… hehehe hee…"

Deliriously, he started to laugh. Short giggles at first that quickly changed into full bodied, bellowing, hysterical laughter as his blood poured out to mingle with the snow and earth. A shadow fell over him, and he looked up, directly into a hood filled with an impenetrable darkness as a cold, rattling breath washed over him.

Inside the dome, Amelia lowered her was as Pettigrew's laughter suddenly changed to a spine chilling scream. It seemed to go on and on for an interminable amount of time before it abruptly cut off, punctuated by a wet thud that was all there was to mark the passing of one Peter Pettigrew.

"Sound off!" Amelia called out.

"Patronus back up, Boss, not that it's doing a lick of good," Tonks called from somewhere behind her.

"Same, Amy, and the Headmaster appears to be out of commission," Shack said from off to her right. Absently she noted the dog dragging itself across the border of the dome, belly low and tail hanging between its legs.

"Harry."

Amelia looked up to the trio of girls standing in the center of their dome. Their raised arms trembled, sweat dripped down their faces and plastered their hair against their cheeks and necks. The glow in their eyes was nearly extinguished and at a glance, Amelia could tell their dome shield had shrunk nearly ten feet, now only twenty across and maybe fifteen high.

"Harry," Hermione called again. "You have to do it, Harry. Or we're all going to die."

#####

Harry jerked as every eye turned toward him, save the unconscious Headmaster and the three girls, whose gazes were unfocused, staring off into something only they could see.

"Me?" he asked, stepping up to Hermione, but taking care not to touch her, least he interfere with whatever it was they were doing. "What can I do?"

The dome shrank a foot.

"Your Patronus," she said over the sounds of the Dementors.

"But I can't do it," he protested. "I don't have a strong enough memory."

"You can. You don't need a memory. You have more than enough power, all you need is a feeling."

"I'm even worse with feelings!"

Another foot closer came the edge of the dome as the people within scrambled to move toward the middle and the Dementors outside stirred up into a frenzy, swirling around them like a cyclone.

"Do you want to know what feeling I use?" she whispered, her eyes suddenly focusing on him, staring straight into him.

The intensity of her gaze startled him and a helpless tremor ran through his body. "What?" he asked, unable to help himself.

She smiled, a small, beautiful smile that stole his breath and lodged his heart somewhere in his throat.

"The purest, most joyous feeling that exists. The love that I feel for Susan, and for Daphne." Her free hand came up and gently cupped his cheek. "And for you," she told him, almost too softly for him to hear. "I love you. We love you. Please, you're a part of us. We couldn't live without you, or you without us. We could have a great future, but you need to believe that it's possible."

The hand on his cheek moved to the back of his neck and she pulled him forward until their lips met. As she kissed him, Hermione, Susan, and Daphne focused their thoughts, summoning up every shred of love that they felt. The love they felt for each other, for Harry, for their friends, parents, and siblings. The gathered it all together and sent it hurtling along their bond and into him.

Harry's entire body went rigid at the overwhelming flood of emotion that washed over him like a tidal wave, threatening to drag him under and smother him with the absolutely awe-inspiring weight of it all.

When she pulled back, the light in her eyes had faded, the dome was gone, leaving only three weak shields that were completely inadequate to protect them.

He stood frozen for a heartbeat, his eyes closed.

Then another.

And another.

Then, his eyes snapped open and twin raging green infernos blazed brightly, washing the air around them in emerald light. His robes snapped and billowed around him as a wind kicked up, spinning and twisting with Harry the eye of the storm.

His right arm came up, palm facing out, and without looking away from her, he spoke the spell. He didn't shout. He didn't bellow. He spoke softly, calmly, yet every one of them heard him as clear as day.

"Expecto Patronum."

A blinding burst of silver light erupted from his palm, exploding outward, expanding rapidly. It bulged and stretched as he turned to face the Dementors and in less than the span of a breath, three figures stood defiantly before them, their backs to the majority of the group.

The girls let their shields drop, falling bonelessly to their knees, their eyes fixed on the spectacle before them.

"Sweet Merlin," Susan breathed in awe and Daphne nodded, finishing the thought.

"They're us."

Indeed, the three figures that formed of Harry's spell were easily identifiable as visions in silver of the three girls on the ground behind him.

In the center, the figure of Hermione, with her bushy hair falling down her back, turned her head to look at the vision of Susan standing on her right. Reaching out with her right hand, Susan took it in her left, both figures smiling in profile before the middle form turned to the figure of Daphne on her left, holding out that hand, which Daphne accepted with her right.

Clasping hands, they stepped silently forward, past a newly awakened Albus Dumbledore, who gazed upon them with tears streaming down his wizened cheeks and into his beard. The three of them looked up at the swarm above and they suddenly pulsed with light.

Once.

Twice.

A third time. With the third pulse of blinding radiance the Dementors shrieked in a mixture of pain and rage as they were scattered to the winds, forced away by the purest magic that exists anywhere in the universe.

The light slowly dimmed down to something that they could safely look at and the three figures released each others hands, turning around to walk back toward the wizard that summoned them.

"The mirror," Hermione whispered, recognizing the figures as the older versions of themselves that she'd seen the year before in the gold framed mirror in Harry's nightmare.

Normally, a patronus is entirely silver in color but as the three figures stopped a few feet from Harry, a thin golden chain formed. It started with Hermione's form, appearing as if growing out of her chest where the real girl's heart would be and it stretched out until it connected to the figures on either side of her. A single golden chain, linking their hearts together.

"Thank you," Harry said into the sudden and nearly total silence that followed the Dementors departure.

The three forms smiled, the same beautiful smile that the real Hermione had just graced him with less than a minute before, then they slowly faded from view.

Harry turned, his eyes only dimly glowing, his robes still on his frame. A small, lopsided smile turned up the corners of his lips for only a moment before his eyes rolled back into his head and the ground suddenly rushed up to meet him.


	43. A Quiet School Year

Author's Notes: Well… here it is gang… the final chapter of The Greengrass Problem. The Rotten Writer here and I have been on some weird writing frenzy. What, the last four or five chapters each a week or less apart? I don't know what's gotten into me but I like it.

This year gave me some troubles, I'll be honest. But in the end I think there was some significant character and relationship growth and I'm pretty happy with it overall. I'm asking now, guys, should I continue posting here or should I expand and start a new story beginning with Fourth year? This thing's gotten rather… big… so starting anew might be a good idea. Lemme know what you think.

Disclaimer: I only own my original plot and original characters.

Here it is, enjoy Chapter 42 of Soul Scars!

Soul Scars Part Three

The Greengrass Problem

By,

Rtnwriter

Harry clawed his way back to consciousness, slowly, fitfully. It seemed to him that a great deal of time had passed, but he really couldn't be certain, and, when his eyes finally opened, he groaned aloud when he immediately recognized the ceiling of the Hospital Wing above him.

A voice from somewhere nearby neatly intruded on his attempt to remember exactly how it was he'd ended up under Madam Pomfrey's care, again.

"Good morning, Mister Potter," it said, and Harry groaned again, closing his eyes.

"I will admit," he rasped, "to the inescapable truth that it is, in fact, morning. 'Good', however, has yet to be determined."

As the voice chuckled quietly, he frowned, and opened his eyes again.

"Wait… is it actually morning?"

"Indeed it is, Mister Potter. Breakfast has just passed, but if you are hungry I am quite certain that Madam Pomfrey will see to it that you are properly fed and watered."

Fed and watered. He'd only ever heard Dumbledore say something like that.

Harry's eyes widened and he sat up, abruptly. Whatever he was going to say, however, fell to the wayside as a nausea inducing pain developed in his head and he groaned, slowly laying back down.

"That, was not a good idea. Someone please remind me not to do that again."

"I shall endeavour to remember to do so."

Once the pain and urge to vomit receded, Harry opened his eyes again and turned his head. There, in the bed to his right, lay the Headmaster, calmly regarding him with his twinkling blue eyes.

"What happened?" he asked, and the old wizard smiled.

"I believe that is, perhaps, too generalized a question for me to properly answer. Are you asking what happened that landed you, once again, under the care of Madam Pomfrey? Or are you wondering why I have joined you as a patient in her charge?"

Harry blinked, considering that carefully.

"Both?" he finally decided.

"Ah, well, as to your first question, what do you remember?"

"Everything," was his prompt response. "The Dementors, Sirius, Wormtail. I remember it all up to my patronus, then nothing."

"Quite fortuitous, then, as it saves us a bit of explanation. The patronus that you summoned was exceedingly powerful. So much so, in fact, that it drained you to a point of exceedingly dangerous magical exhaustion. Apparently your heart stopped, twice, before Madam Pomfrey was able to stabilize you."

Harry's mouth dropped open, but he said nothing in his surprise.

"As for myself… well, I am an old man. When the Dementors physically attacked us, I fear I suffered a broken hip. Normally I would have been as good as new by the next day, however, I have an unfortunate allergy to one of the ingredients present in Skele-gro. As such I am forced to deal with somewhat slower methods of healing. Not as gradual as muggle healing, but still, slower than I would prefer."

"How long have I been out?"

"A little less than two weeks, Mister Potter."

Harry glanced up as Madam Pomfrey's voice reached him and the woman herself came into view, wand already in hand as she walked briskly to his bed.

"Do you have an alert on my bed, or something?" he asked, only partially joking. "You always seem to know just when to pop up."

Her lips turned up into a small smirk. "Trade secret, I am afraid. I could tell you, but then I would likely have to kill you, and I would much rather avoid that after all the trouble I have gone to to keep you alive since you started here."

"Well, we can't have that," he muttered, watching as her wand began its very familiar dance through her usual diagnostic spells.

"Quite," she muttered, absently, as she observed the results of her spells. "Well, you appear to be in excellent health, Mister Potter. Though I would wager you'll still be feeling weak for a few more days to come. Also, your magic has almost completely recovered, but is still a touch low, for you. I would like you to exercise caution in using any magic over the next few days and I'll be keeping you, at least until tomorrow, just to be certain."

This brightened Harry's mood considerably. "That's great," he said, smiling broadly at the mothering mediwitch who returned his smile with a small one of her own, patting one of his hands, gently.

"Yes, it is. You know, Mister Potter, it wouldn't be a hardship if you decided to skip the next adventure to come your way. While I've grown quite fond of you, and your ladies, I don't like seeing you in this bed as often as I have."

"I really don't do it on purpose," he told her. "I was told to get used to strange things happening around me, as it's likely to go on for my whole life. Not really a lot I can do about it."

Her quiet hum was noncommittal, and after patting his hand again, she turned her attention to the Headmaster. "And you, Headmaster, are ready to go as soon as you dress. Excellent timing, considering the circumstances." She tucked her wand away and started back toward her office. "I shall have an elf bring you something for breakfast, Mister Potter," she called back, just before moving out of range.

"What was that about timing, Sir?"

"Yes, excellent timing appears to be in great supply today. You waking as you did is quite a boon for us as tomorrow is the date of Mister Black's trial in front of the Wizengamot."

If he'd felt up to it Harry would have jumped for joy at that proclamation. As it was he pushed himself up to a sitting position, smiling broadly the whole way.

"Where is he, anyway? And the girls? Was anyone else hurt?"

"Everyone that was present that night is in fine health, save for Wormtail. I am not certain if you noticed in the commotion but he lost his life. Madam Bones hit his leg with a Reductor while he was attempting to escape and one of the Dementors administered their Kiss, drawing out his soul. He bled to death quite quickly after that, unfortunately."

Harry wasn't sure he agreed that it was unfortunate, but held his tongue as the Headmaster put up some privacy screens around his bed with a flick of his wand. A few minutes later, the screens moved away, showing the Headmaster standing beside his bed, if a bit gingerly, in a set of bright fuschia robes.

"As to your young ladies and friends, presently they are in class, I'm sure they will be by to visit before too long."

"And Sirius?"

"He has been spending a great deal of time with Professor Lupin. As we discussed previously, as soon as I was able, I let drop about Sanctuary and Mister Black requested it, so he has been staying here at the castle, with Auror's Kingsley and Tonks keeping a watch on him."

He held up a hand in a stopping gesture when Harry made to protest.

"No, I do not believe him to be a danger, however until he is exonerated through his trial I could not just let him wander the castle unsupervised. The Ministry and the students parents would have had my head on a platter and, just between us, I rather much prefer my head be kept where it is currently located."

Tucking his wand into his robes the Headmaster gave Harry a considering look.

"Your presence has been requested at the trial, Mister Potter," he said. "So, as I said, excellent timing, indeed, that you woke when you did."

"What am I supposed to do at a trial?"

"You have been requested as a witness into the events that happened the other night, and to testify for Sirius as to his recent actions. Such as when he defended you during your class, or helping to save yourself and Miss Lovegood from Pettigrew in the forest. Speaking of that, I would be curious to know how it is that you and Miss Lovegood found yourself outside the castle grounds."

Harry quickly explained how he'd been out walking, just trying to puzzle over some things that were on his mind, and that he'd ended up in the forest due to his own inattention to his surroundings. When he explained how he'd found Luna, and what she'd been doing, the aged wizard nodded.

"Yes, that does match up with what Miss Lovegood said. I have already spoken to Hagrid about letting our younger students assist him in such a manner. He really should have taken more care, either to accompany her, or to make sure she kept to daylight hours if she was going to feed the thestrals."

"Sir? It's likely to be a media frenzy at a trial like this, isn't it?" Harry asked.

"Indeed it is, Mister Potter. Both yourself and Mister Black are quite well known and this entire incident throws light on a dark time in our Nation's recent past. There is a great deal of interest."

"Why can't I submit a pensieve memory? As much as I want to help Sirius… I'm not certain I really want to be stuck in the spotlight again."

Dumbledore sighed. "Alas, it is unfortunate, but necessary, that Pensieve memories are not admissible in court."

"What?" Harry blurted out, startled. "Why not?"

"Memories cannot be guaranteed as one hundred percent accurate. Not in all aspects."

"Why not?" he asked again, even more confused. A memory was a memory, taken exactly as it was, what was wrong about that.

"Let me ask you a question. Say you are walking the corridor next week. You turn a corner and you see young Mister Malfoy physically assaulting someone, perhaps one of your bond mates?"

Harry glared at the old man. "He wouldn't do much ever again-"

"This is merely a hypothetical situation, Mister Potter, please hold your temper."

The words were spoken in curt, clipped tones with a hint of admonishment in them and Harry took a deep breath.

"Sorry, Sir," he muttered.

"Perfectly understandable, but please try to control that. Anyway, as I was saying. You see Mister Malfoy attacking… someone, let us say. He escapes you and you later go to inform someone and turn over your memory of the event in question to the authorities. Based on that memory, Mister Malfoy is arrested and thrown in prison after questioning and a trial where your memory is the key piece of evidence in the crime."

"I'm not seeing the problem here."

"Do you not see any way that your memory could be false? That what you saw wasn't actually what happened?"

Harry considered that. What he saw wasn't what actually happened? He turned the question over and over in his mind, attempting to approach it from different angles when the proverbial light bulb went off over his head and he let out a groan of frustration.

"Have you seen the problem, then, Mister Potter?"

"I think so. Even if it's clearly Malfoy that I saw, with no way it could have been someone else. With magic that doesn't actually mean anything. It could have been someone polyjuiced to look like Malfoy, or glamoured in the same manner. There could have been perception altering charms cast on the area to make me see only what the caster wanted me to see. There's any number of ways someone could do that and frame Malfoy completely, making it look like an extremely clear-cut case."

"Just as Mister Pettigrew did when he framed Mister Black for his death. Something you yourself uncovered. I would have thought that after that stellar performance, you might have put a little more thought into these kinds of things."

Harry flushed, slightly ashamed of himself for not seeing the obvious and shrugged. "I'll certainly be keeping it in mind from now on," he muttered and Dumbledore nodded, apparently satisfied with that answer.

"Well," the aged wizard finally said, clapping his hands together once. "I have a great deal of work that I must attend to, so I shall bid you a good day, and I will see you tomorrow morning. I will come by immediately after breakfast to collect you and bring you and Mister Black to the Ministry myself."

With that, he turned and made his way from the Wing. A moment later a quiet pop echoed around Harry's bed and he turned his attention to the heavily laden breakfast tray that had just appeared on his bedside table, reminding him that he was extremely hungry. Putting aside everything else, he set about fulfilling the one goal currently within his reach. He would eat his fill, then wait for someone to come see him so he could find out what else had been going on while he was asleep.

#####

"I don't think I should go in there."

"But he's awake. We've been waiting for almost two weeks for him to wake up."

"I know but… the last thing I did was confuse the hell out of him, again."

Daphne let out a frustrated sigh and turned more fully toward Hermione, placing a hand on each of the other girl's shoulders and looking her directly in the eye.

"Hermione, this is behavior unbecoming of a Gryffindor. What is going on with you?"

Hermione squirmed uncomfortably as Susan watched on. "I kissed him. And I told him that we loved him. He's had so much trouble just with the two of you kissing him then I go and drop the 'L' word on him on top of that… I'm worried he's going to panic and pull away from us, more." By the time she finished her voice had become very small and she almost appeared to be hunching in on herself, as if trying to disappear.

"We'll figure it out if he does. I'm nervous, too, love. But this is Harry. You weren't lying to him. We do love him, and we've been worried about him, so we're going in there to check on that idiot, before he does something else to try and scare more years off of my lifespan, okay?"

Still nervous, Hermione nodded and Susan pulled open the door so they could enter the Hospital Wing.

"NO!"

Instantly, they were blasted by a loud voice echoing from inside and they rushed into the room, worried something was wrong.

"'So much for the Beast of Slytherin'?" Sirius roared, half falling out of his chair where he was sitting next to Harry's bed. The boy in question had a huge smile on his face, watching his godfather laughing himself stupid.

"I'm not kidding! It probably wasn't my smartest move, really. I mean, I was bleeding all over the place, I had basilisk venom running through my veins. I swear, I was probably a hair's breadth from snuffing it, but that stupid echo of Riddle just pissed me the hell off. He'd tried to hurt Daphne, and he petrified Hermione, and Susan was a wreck. I was mad, and I wanted to rub his nose in it a little."

Next to Sirius, Remus reached over and thumped the man on the shoulder with a closed fist.

"Get it together, Padfoot, and let the Cub finish the story," he admonished his friend, despite the wide grin he was wearing. "What happened after that?" Remus asked.

"Well, like I said, I'm pretty sure I was dying. Riddle was gloating, going on about how deadly the venom was and I'd fallen over onto the ground by then, my legs just wouldn't hold me up. So, I crawled over to where Luna was lying, with that stupid diary next to her. I used the fang that I'd yanked out of my arm and I stabbed the thing. Ink came pouring out of it, and Riddle and the diary both started shrieking up a storm. I remember there was this loud bang, like an explosion, and the last thing I can remember was seeing Daphne's eyes just before I blacked out."

"Jeez, Pup. Your dad, Remus, and I… we got into all kinds of trouble when we were here. Pretty sure we're personally responsible for at least half of old McGonagall's grey hairs, but we never got into anything like the kind of scrapes you've gotten yourself into. And that's only in your first two years!"

Sirius' eyes were shining, pride filling his voice, but even Harry could detect a slight hint of disapproval.

"Do you go looking for trouble? Really?"

"Why does everyone think that?" Harry demanded. "Seriously, it's not like I try to get into this stuff, it just happens. And you should feel lucky it does, Sirius, otherwise you might still be hiding out in the forest scrounging for food."

Sirius raised both hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Hey, don't get me wrong. I'm damn proud of you, and grateful, don't ever think I'm not, just… dammit kid, you know your mum and dad would kick my arse up one side of the afterlife and down the other if you went and got yourself killed before you've lived a long full life."

"That's what he's got us for," Susan cut in as they approached the bed. "We've been doing our best to keep him alive since first year."

At the sight of the three of them Harry's face lit up with joy, the light in his eyes growing brighter for a moment before both it, and his expression fell a bit as nervous anxiety flowed across their bond.

"The ladies of the hour!"

Suddenly, all three girls found themselves being crushed as Sirius bounded over and pulled them into an exuberant hug, lifting them clear off the ground in his excitement.

"Padfoot! Put them down, right now!"

"Awww…" Sirius whined. "But Moonyyyyyy…"

"Now, Padfoot. Or do I need to conjure a rolled up newspaper?"

"You've turned into a right stick in the mud, you know that, right, Moony?" Sirius groused, but nevertheless, he carefully set the three, now flushed and disheveled girls, gently back on their feet.

"It's nice… to officially meet you… Mister Black," Hermione gasped out as she and the other girls collected themselves.

Sirius made a scoffing 'pssh' sort of noise.

"None of this Mister Black tripe. I hear that and I think Old Tabby is about to give me detention. It's Sirius to the three of you, or Padfoot. From how I hear it told the pup wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for you ladies, and I wouldn't be either without that dome you summoned up the other night."

"If Professor McGonagall hears you calling her 'Old Tabby' you know that the fact that you are no longer a student won't be enough to save you from detention," Remus observed.

"Oi! Go swot something if you're just going to step all over my fun, Moons."

"You're supposed to be going to trial tomorrow, Padfoot. You can't do that if Filch has you strung up by your ankles somewhere."

"Yeah, yeah. All right, Moony, I get it. I'll be a good doggie," Sirius grumbled good naturedly as he returned to his seat.

A flick of Remus' wand brought three more chairs marching their way across the floor to line up on the left side of Harry's bed and the girls sat after each gave Harry a hug and a kiss on his cheek. His ready acceptance of the affectionate gesture did much to calm their worries and they quickly settled in.

"So," Remus started. "I believe proper introductions are in order. Sirius Black, may I introduce to you Hermione Granger, Susan Bones, and Lady Daphne Greengrass."

"Umm…. if it's been nearly two weeks, why haven't you all met before now?" Harry asked, looking back and forth between the two groups on either side of his bed with a confused expression on his face.

"Honestly, I've been sticking around Remus' quarters for the most part," Sirius admitted. "Dumbledore told the school I was on the premises, and that I wasn't a danger but I didn't want to send everyone into a panic by walking around too much. At least not until the Mot clears me."

"Padfoot, that's exactly what you wanted to do, but McGonagall threatened to neuter you if you actually did it."

"Spoil sport," Sirius grumbled, sticking his tongue out at Remus, who artfully ignored his friend's immaturity.

After pulling his tongue back into his mouth, Sirius eyed Daphne for a moment. "Lady Greengrass?" he asked, and she turned more to face him.

"Yes, Mister Black?"

"You wouldn't be related to Cyril Greengrass, would you?"

Daphne blinked. "Yes, actually. He's my father," she explained. "Did you know him? I don't believe that he ever mentioned you."

"We met a few times, he graduated Hogwarts before I even started, think he was about ten years older than me, or so. I'm sorry for your loss, though, not to speak ill of the dead, I never really liked him, much."

"Oh, he's not dead, and no apology is necessary, he's a horrid person."

It was Sirius' turn to blink and his eyes darted to the platinum Head of House ring on her finger. "I must confess to some confusion, then. If he's alive, how are you the Head of you House, at your age?"

Daphne grinned. "That would be Harry's fault."

"Hey, I had help!"

"But it was your plan."

"Well... yeah, I guess."

"Wait, wait, wait," Sirius cut in, holding both hands up in a stopping gesture. "There's a story here, I can smell it. How did Harry see to it that you became Head of House at… thirteen? Fourteen?"

"My fourteenth birthday will be in a month."

"So thirteen. How did Harry engineer you becoming Head of House at thirteen if your father is still alive? Explain, please."

Harry cringed as the girls gleefully launched into the story, only leaving out any mention of their bond and the bluff involved in the plan. They felt it would probably take too long to explain all of it, so stuck only to the plan as it had appeared on the surface.

By the time they'd finished, Sirius was looking at Harry with something akin to awe, and Harry was squirming uncomfortably under the attention.

"Pup, I never thought I'd say this to anyone and not mean it as an insult, but that was positively Slytherin of you."

"I'm just glad it worked," Harry muttered.

They chatted for a few minutes more before the girls needed to leave to get to their next class and Remus as well to teach his afternoon class. Hermione left Harry his book bag, along with the assignments and class notes that he'd missed during his stay and they each hugged him and kissed him again on their way out of the Wing with Remus following behind.

Sirius watched as Harry's eyes followed the girls all the way out of the large double doors, a thoughtful expression on his face that slowly turned into a mischievous smirk.

"So those are 'your girls' as Luna called them?" Sirius asked in a deceptively casual tone of voice.

Harry flushed slightly, but nodded. "Yeah, that's them. We all met on the first day of school back in first year. Hermione and Susan I met on the platform, and Daphne during the sorting."

"So… which one?" Sirius asked, causing Harry to stare at him in confusion.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Which one of those lovely young ladies have you got your eye on, Pup? Come on, don't leave an old dog in suspense."

Confusion evaporated in an instant, turning rapidly into embarrassment as Harry's face flushed a brilliant red and he groaned, pulling his sheet up over his head.

"It's not like that," he moaned from under the sheet and Sirius laughed, tugging the item from his godson's grasp.

"What is it like, then?" he asked, grinning widely.

"It's… they're…" Harry groaned again and rubbed a hand over his face. "It's complicated, Padfoot, really it is," he muttered, looking considerably more morose than Sirius thought he should.

"Well, why don't you try explaining it to me? I may not be as clever as Moony, but I'm certainly not dumb."

Harry frowned, staring at the sheet pooled in his lap. Idly his hands tugged at the sleeves of his hospital pajama top.

Finally he let out a deep sigh. "We have a Soul Bond.

It was Sirius' turn to blink, completely flummoxed for a moment, before his eyes narrowed and he said, "start at the beginning."

So, Harry explained what he knew, starting with how he met each of the girls, what the Sorting Hat explained during their sorting, and each progression of the bond to date.

"... so, Hermione said she loved me, that they loved me, but I'm not sure what to do. I mean… I don't know the first thing, really, about love or any of that," Harry finished, looking rather distressed after his explanation.

Sirius sat in silent contemplation for a time, pushing aside the dinner tray that had appeared part way through Harry's lengthy recitation.

"Well, I'll tell you one thing, Pup. Three girls after you? Your dad'd be right proud of you. Though I think your mum might have boxed your ears."

"Sirius! That's not helping! What am I supposed to do?" Harry pleaded, desperately.

"Who says that you have to do anything?"

"Huh?" Harry stared blankly at his godfather after that unexpected response.

"I mean it. Look, you've got three pretty girls that have expressed an interest in you, right? That's the general break down that I'm getting here."

"Yeah, but-"

"And you don't think any of them are unattractive, do you?"

"No, not at all. They're all beautiful, but-"

"Then I think you're thinking too hard about this. You're a teenager, Pup. Be a little adventurous, get closer to them if you want, snog them senseless, if the mood strikes, just don't hurt them."

"I can't do that!" Harry snapped.

"Okay, don't snog them senseless." Sirius sighed and rubbed a hand over his face in an eerily similar gesture to Harry's own action earlier. "Look. I'm not good at this honest advice thing, okay? I'm trying here, so give me a little leeway. Try thinking about it this way. You said the girls have always been affectionate, right? That's progressed to frequent hugs and kisses on your cheek, not counting the three liplocks they laid on you?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, why don't you just try that? Don't worry overmuch about things, just try giving them back a bit of what they've been giving you."

Harry frowned, considering that.

"Doesn't it seem… I don't know, kind of sleazy to do that with three different girls?"

"Why would it? You're bonded."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

Sirius leaned back in his seat, eyeing Harry carefully. He couldn't wrap his head around this kid. When he'd been thirteen he would've been disturbingly thrilled to be in Harry's shoes. Something wasn't right here, and he couldn't quite put his mental finger on what it was.

"Just… try not to overthink things, okay, Pup? Obviously these girls are interested, and they're not fighting or upset about it. They obviously all know about each other, so it's not anything deceitful or underhanded for you to just take a little time to see where things might go. Obviously, I wouldn't recommend trying to go too far, but from what I can tell, they're giving you some pretty clear signals that they're open to advancing your friendship a bit. Don't push, but give a little more than you have been and just see where it takes you."

Harry frowned as he thought that over for several minutes while Sirius returned to his previously discarded dinner, letting the teen think in peace.

"Sirius?" he finally asked.

"Yeah, Pup?"

"Could you help me with something?"

"Anything you need, Harry."

Harry smiled and leaned forward and the two spent some time with their heads together, talking in hushed tones until Kingsley and Tonks arrived to escort Sirius back to Remus' quarters. That night, when Harry fell asleep, it was with much less confusion swirling about through his mind.

#####

Harry really wasn't sure if the squirming sensation in his gut was a result of nerves, or excitement. Either way, he really didn't care for it much and he let out an impatient sigh as he smoothed down his House Potter robes and looked around the room.

That morning, immediately after eating breakfast, Dumbledore had arrived in the Hospital wing with a small parade following behind him. Sirius, with Kingsley and Tonks, followed by Hermione, Daphne, Susan, Neville, Luna, and Blaise. Luna, as soon as she caught sight of him, had broken rank and run across the Wing, practically throwing herself into his arms. Unlike Hermione, or Susan, there hadn't been much frantic speaking. She'd just whispered 'thank you', repeatedly, as she clung to him, tears spilling down her cheeks.

The panicked look on his face had most of those present smiling, though most had the courtesy to restrain themselves from laughing. 'Most' did not include Sirius, who had burst out into his strange barking laughter at the look Harry'd given the rest of the room as he'd tried to awkwardly comfort the girl in his arms.

Eventually, everything was settled and Harry was left behind some privacy screens to change into his robes. Belting his sword on last, the entire group had made their way through the Floo and directly into Amelia's office at the Ministry in order to avoid the chaos that would be the Ministry Atrium. According to Amelia, the press had been camped out for two days already, waiting to catch sight of the infamous Sirius Black and the Boy-Who-Lived. Even the fascination of getting to see where his guardian worked did little to keep Harry from worrying about what was coming and he found himself alternating between pacing and staring at the nearby clock on the wall, urging the minute hands to move faster so they could hurry up and get this over with already.

"Harry, please sit down," Hermione practically begged after the twenty minute mark passed of him pacing around the office. "I understand you're anxious but you're driving the rest of us spare with the pacing." She reached out and patted the thin cushion on the chair next to where she was sitting. "Please. Just come sit, try to relax a little."

Flushing slightly in embarrassment, Harry said nothing but moved over and dropped gracelessly into the seat. The Sword of Gryffindor rattled loudly against the chairs wooden legs and he winced, carefully adjusting the weapon so that the hilt wasn't digging into his ribs anymore.

"Much better," Hermione said, reaching over to gently squeeze his hand. "Sirius has a solid case in his favor, this is all going to work out just fine."

"I really hope so," he muttered, attempting a smile that didn't quite get off the ground.

The rest of their group was sitting around the office in hastily conjured chairs. Tonks and Kingsley were deep in conversation with Amelia by her desk while Sirius and the Headmaster both sat, rather calmly, near the door. Dumbledore had his usual serene grandfatherly persona out in full while Sirius almost looked bored with the wait. Of all of them, Harry would have expected him to be the most nervous, but if he was, he was hiding it well.

Neville, Luna, and Blaise were against the back wall, talking quietly while Daphne, Hermione, and Susan sat near Harry, as they so often did.

Leaning toward the bushy haired witch on his right Harry murmured quietly, "when we get back to the school, I need to talk to the three of you."

She gave him a curious look, but smiled softly and nodded, holding her immediate desire to pepper him with questions.

"We'll be there," was all she said.

"All right, gang, listen up."

They looked over as Amelia's voice filled the office and all conversation stopped as everyone's attention focused on the formidable witch. "We're going to head down to the courtroom. Shack and Tonks will be going to the defendants chamber with Sirius, and the rest of you will be escorted to witness chambers. You will all be separated at that time, since witnesses aren't allowed to wait together and you'll each be called in when needed to give your testimony and once you're done with your turn on the witness stand you'll be allowed to go to the witness section of the viewers gallery to watch the rest of the proceedings. I don't know what order you'll be called in exactly, but Harry, you'll be last."

He nodded, noticing several of the others nodding along as well and a minute later they were making their way out of the office and heading for the lifts at the end of the hall. They passed through the Auror Bullpen along the way and Harry couldn't help but be fascinated by what he saw. Aurors and Cadets moved back and forth from desk to desk discussing any possible number of things. Some looked a little ragged around the edges with torn or singed robes as they dictated information to auto-quills. When they reached the lifts, the doors opened and two Aurors came in with a short, disheveled man held between them, his hands bound by thick manacles.

"I didn' do nuffink," he was saying, loudly, as they half dragged the man off the lifts.

"Fletcher," Amelia said in a cool voice and the man immediately ceased struggling and looked up, watery brown eyes peering at her.

"Well… iffn it idn't Madam Bones 'erself," he said. "You wanna tell yer boys 'ere to let me go?"

"Mundungus Fletcher if Aurors Blake and Graham have you in here, then I'm reasonably certain you deserve to be here. Get him to a holding cell and make sure your reports are filed promptly."

"Yes Ma'am," one of the two Aurors said and they started dragging the man away again, protesting the entire way in a loud, reedy voice.

Parchment memos folded into paper airplanes flew over head and a half a dozen of them followed the group onto the lift as it began to descend beneath the Ministry. At nearly every floor, the lift would stop and the doors would open, letting some of the memos fly out while others came in, floating above their heads. A few times someone was waiting to get on, but with one look at the large group already filling the lift, they decided to wait for the next one and the doors would close again so they could continue.

Eventually, they finally reached the lowest level and they all filed out of the lift to find seven robed Aurors waiting for them.

"Ladies, if you'll go with Aurors Hill, Lambert, Castle, and Jones, Blaise and Neville, you're with Aurors Dawlish and Pierce." Amelia paused as they each left with the Auror assigned to them, the girls giving Harry a quick hug on their way by and Amelia turned to face him fully, pulling something red from her pocket. "Put this on, before you go into the courtroom," she told him, pressing the object into his hand and he nodded. Shacklebolt and Tonks had already left with Sirius so he stuffed the item into his pocket and turned to the auror still waiting.

"Auror Scrimgeour," he greeted the man, recognizing him from the year before. "It's nice to see you again."

"It's Head Auror, Lord Potter, but no matter," Rufus corrected, reaching out to accept the hand Harry offered in a firm shake. "You're rather a high profile young man, so I decided to assign myself to your protection during this occasion."

"Protection? Am I in danger in the Ministry?"

"I don't believe so, but it's standard operating procedure. All witnesses have an Auror keeping them where they're supposed to be, and to keep them safe. Even in the muggle courts there is such a thing as witness tampering, intimidation, and so on. With magic that can just be easier to do so we've found keeping an Auror on hand helps things run a little smoother. It doesn't fix all the problems, but it helps."

Harry nodded, his nerves ratcheting up a bit as he started following the leonine looking Auror through the halls. Reaching a simple door, Scrimgeour pulled it opened and waved Harry inside. The room beyond was simple, but not uncomfortable. It resembled a waiting room one might find in a doctor's office with several small chairs, a low table piled with magazines and back issues of the Daily Prophet for reading, but not much else. The door closed behind him and Scrimgeour stood in front of it, his hands clasped behind his back.

"It'll be a while before you're called in," he said as Harry sank into one of the chairs. "All of your friends are going to be testifying first and that'll take some time. If you need anything to drink or the loo, just ask, and you might want to see what Amelia handed you now before it gets closer," he advised and Harry nodded, absently, pulling the item from his pocket to finally take a look at it.

He wasn't sure if he was surprised or not to find his Order of Merlin medal in his hand. The deep crimson ribbon shone in the subdued lighting and glinted off of the platinum medallion itself. With a snort, he placed the ribbon over his head and adjusted it so that it hung correctly. For a moment he wondered if he should have brought the medallions awarded to him by the goblins but then decided that as a wizarding court, something from the goblins wouldn't have had nearly the impact as the Order of Merlin, so he pushed those thoughts from his mind and settled in for a nerve wracking wait.

It was more than two hours before someone knocked at the door at Scrimgeour's back. He opened the door a couple of inches, his wand in hand behind the oak panel, and exchanged a few quiet words with whoever was on the other side as Harry looked on, curiously.

A minute later the door was closed and the Head Auror turned back to Harry.

"Lord Potter, they'll be calling you in about five minutes. If you'll follow me I'll show you to where you're going to enter."

Feeling tongue tied Harry just nodded and stood to follow the man out of the room, barely noticing their surroundings until the narrow, dim corridor abruptly changed into a large open room with bright lights that nearly blinded him as he entered and he instinctively lifted one hand to shade his eyes until they adjusted.

When he could finally see clearly again he was shocked at the scene before him. The doors he'd been lead through came out into a large room, easily a hundred feet high and around the walls were several elevated tiers of seats, all of which seemed to be completely filled. Flash bulbs were going off with a strobe like effect as several photographers in the first row of seating to his right started snapping pictures madly when he stepped out into the open floor, purple, blue, green, and yellow smoke drifting up toward the ceiling from the magical cameras as a chattering murmur of voices swelled from the assembled audience.

Harry fidgeted nervously for a moment with the sleeves of his robes before a sudden calming wave of emotion swept through him and his eyes darted unerringly toward three figures in the viewing gallery directly ahead. Three levels up, Hermione, Daphne, and Susan were standing in front of their seats, holding hands, and directing their feelings toward him. He smiled, unable to stop himself, and pushed a sensation of gratitude toward them, thankful for the push he'd needed to get his feet properly under him.

With that, and a quick apologetic feeling, he brought up his Occlumency, and his features hardened, going from nervous apprehensive school boy, to the calm, in control, Lord Potter that some people were starting to recognize, and more would notice before the day was over. At a word from Scrimgeour, Harry marched his way confidently across the large room, pausing only long enough to offer Sirius a smile and a nod where he sat in the defendants chair, chains loosely wrapped around him. With his left hand resting on the hilt of his sword, Harry stepped up into the dark, wood paneled, witness box and took his seat.

"Testimony of Lord Harry James Potter in the matter of the Ministry vs. Sirius Black," a court scribe called out as Harry sat and he glanced curiously at the man for a moment before turning his attention back to the room at large. Directly across from him, at the top of the tiers of seats, Harry could see Dumbledore in a set of plum robes that matched those of the other members of the Wizengamot, his long hair and beard making him easily identifiable, even at a distance. One level below the Chief Warlock, Fudges lime green bowler hat clashed horribly with his own robes and next to him a shock of bright pink had Harry's eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Lord Potter."

Harry turned his head, noting with some surprise that a cloaked Unspeakable had approached him, unnoticed, as he'd studied the audience in front of him. "My name is Sable, I work directly for Director Croaker of the Department of Mysteries and I am here to explain to you how this will all work."

Harry nodded, but said nothing, keeping a tight grip on his Occlumency.

"If you'll look at the edge of railing in front of you you'll notice several runes carved into the wood, when charged, these runes-"

"Sonorous," Harry interrupted, peering curiously at the dark cuts carved into the railing. "I'm guessing so the witness doesn't have to shout to be heard. A binding rune attached to… is that a release? Hmmm... Oh I get it, the witness stands and holds the railing and their hands are stuck to it until released by a third party, I'm assuming that's for potential hostile witnesses, or maybe the defendants themselves in criminal trials? What else..."

As Harry was studying the runes, quietly muttering to himself, he didn't notice Sable subtly charge the sonorous rune until suddenly everyone in the large chamber could clearly hear him.

"Looks like a transparency rune combined with an area effect color scheme and something riding the edge of emotion and… intent? Oh… it can tell if the witness is emotional or attempting to dissemble during their testimony." He glanced up at the Unspeakable. "I'm assuming you guys didn't have these after Voldemort was defeated the first time?"

The sudden screams that rang out through the room had Harry leaping out of his seat, his heart similarly leaping in his chest, and with a flick of his wrist his wand blank shot into his hand as his eyes darted around, looking for any kind of threat. Reaching out, Sable calmly plucked the wand from his hand.

"I apologize, Lord Potter, but everything is all right. there's no danger here. While you were studying the runes I charged the sonorous so that everyone could hear you. The screams, I believe, were the result of you saying the Dark Lord's name. And you are right, these stands are a recent addition. Not quite as good as veritaserurm, and they can be fooled, if one knows how, but they're still useful."

Harry scowled at them and held his hand out for his wand, which was returned to him and with another flick of his wrist it shot back up his sleeve and into his holster. "It's a bloody stupid thing for people to be screaming about. A made up name from a mad man isn't anything to be afraid of, all that does is give him more power when people stop using their damn heads and let themselves be scared by a stupid word," he grumbled under his breath, yet everyone still heard him, clear as day.

"If we can continue?" Fudge's voice boomed out, glaring just slightly at the young Lord on the witness stand. "And Lord Potter, whatever you believe, people do still fear that name and we would ask you not to use it in these chambers, if for no other reason than so that we might keep the panic and noise to a minimum."

Harry gritted his teeth but nodded in the man's direction. "Of course, Minister," he managed to say in a calm tone that showed nothing of how much the slippery politician irritated him. Harry couldn't make out any expression, but he had the distinct impression that Sable was amused by his response.

"If Lord Potter's curiosity has been satisfied, shall we proceed?" Dumbledore ask, his eyes twinkling madly as he looked down at Harry from his seat.

"I wouldn't say satisfied, but I can hold off until another time," Harry responded, causing another wave of muttering to sweep through the audience. Some seemed amused, others insulted by his impertinence. Harry didn't really care.

Dumbledore look down at a sheet of parchment he held and quickly read aloud, "witness is Lord Harry James Potter. Interrogators in this case are Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, Senior Undersecretary Madam Dolores Umbridge, and Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Madam Amelia Bones. Madam Bones, you may begin."

"Thank you, Chief Warlock. Unspeakable Sable, would you please perform the checks that the witness stand is operating as it is intended to?"

"Of course, Madam Bones." The Unspeakable turned to Harry. "I believe we can assume the Sonorous rune cluster is operating as it is intended to," they muttered and a wave of chuckles swept through the viewers. "I am going to ask you a few questions, Lord Potter, please answer them as directed."

"Of course."

"What is your full name, for the record?"

Harry hesitated a moment. "Do you need just my name or titles as well?"

"Name and titles, if you please."

"I am Lord Harry James Potter, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, Friend to the Goblin Nation and Blooded Warrior," he said, ignoring the startled gasps that arose, his eyes fixed on the cloaked figure in front of him.

"Very good, Lord Potter. Now, could you tell us your name again, however this time I would like for you to lie."

"My name is Lord Neville Longbottom, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom, Friend to the Goblin Nation."

A red haze appeared around Harry that flickered a few times before vanishing and he could tell that the Unspeakable seemed a touch confused.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked.

"It isn't supposed to do that. If you lied, the red haze should be solid for three seconds before disappearing."

"What if part of what I said was true?" Harry asked and the hood around the Unspeakables head tilted as the head beneath was cocked slightly to one side.

"In what manner?"

"Well, I am obviously not Lord Longbottom, but he and I are both named Friends to the Nation, so in that I was telling the truth."

"That might be. Do it again, however leave out the Friend statement, if you please."

"My name is Lord Neville Longbottom, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom."

This time the red haze appeared and hung, solid, in the air around him for a few seconds before it faded."

"Thank you, Lord Potter, that issue will have to be addressed in the future." Sable turned back to the Wizengamot. "The witness stand appears to be working precisely as intended, Madam Bones."

"Thank you, Unspeakable Sable. Lord Potter, I believe that a great deal of information has come to light in the last several months, and you started it all off, could you please explain to the court how this happened?"

"In regards to what, specifically, Madam Bones? The potential innocence of Sirius Black? The illegal incarceration of Sirius Black? Or the fact that Peter Pettigrew faked his death and framed Mister Black for the crime?"

As more mutterings burst out Amelia gave him a small smirk. "Let's start with your belief in Mister Black's innocence."

"Well, I didn't know for certain that he was innocent. There was enough missing information that I couldn't say that for sure, but there was more than enough for me to doubt his guilt. In the summer before my second year at Hogwarts, I recovered a chest, left to me by my mother Lily Potter, that was in the possession of my Aunt Petunia. In that chest I discovered a series of journals, written by my mum that covered her seven years at school, as well as several letters penned by both her and my father, James Potter. In those letters, it was said that they had asked Sirius to be my Godfather, but there was no mention on if they actually went through the Godfather Oaths."

"There is no record of a Godfather Ritual being performed, young man," Umbridge cut in, a smug expression on her broad face.

Harry arched a brow in her direction. "And?" he drawled out in a bored tone.

A flash of anger flitted across her face. "It is required that such rituals are registered with the Ministry. If no register exists, no ritual was performed."

"That is not true, Madam Umbridge, and you, once again, show your ignorance of the Ministries own laws and procedures. Nowhere is it stated that they are required to be registered. It is simply a fact that most people do. Now, back in the middle of a war, being targeted by the leader of the opposition, would you want to advertise who was the next intended person to care for your child? No, I wouldn't either. I imagine that my parents decided not to register with the Ministry in order to protect both myself and my Godfather, who was already also a target of You-Know-Who's. That is if they performed the Oaths. At the time that I came across this information that was unclear.

"So, I brought the information that I had to Madam Bones' attention, in the hopes that she might be able to look into it for me and get some answers. My entire life I have never known exactly what happened the night my parents were murdered and the official story seemed to contradict something written in my parents own hands. I wanted the truth."

"I think everyone can agree that would be enough to at least cast doubt on the official story," Amelia said. "Let's move onto the legality of Mister Black's incarceration. There was an article published in the Quibbler that stated such, can you please tell us how you came to this information?"

"Gladly, Madam Bones. The day before Halloween I noticed that Sirius Black was on the grounds at Hogwarts by use of a family heirloom that had come into my possession. I contacted you, Madam Bones, that night by owl and the next evening when you arrived with Aurors Shacklebolt and Tonks to discuss the matter he was again spotted heading toward the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

"During the discussion preceding that, it was brought up that there was some possible doubt that Black was actually guilty of the crimes he was accused of committing. The Headmaster later went to the Ministry Records Department to get a copy of the interrogation and trial of Sirius Black so I could see what he said about the night my parents were murdered by Riddle-"

"Excuse me, Lord Potter," Augusta Longbottom called, standing from her seat as Harry stopped talking and all eyes turned toward her. "Who is Riddle?"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle is the birth name of the man who came to be called by the general public as You-Know-Who. Personally, I hate his stupid invented moniker, and the ridiculous, hyphenated appellations given to him by the media are just… well… ridiculous. I figure I will just use his muggle father's name to refer to him. Just makes things easier, don't you think?"

There was silence for several long moments before absolute chaos erupted throughout the courtroom. Visitors were shouting down at him, the many reporters lining the first level were shouting questions, the members of the Wizengamot were also shouting, some in doubt, others in rage.

Dumbledore was twinkling at him again while Fudge had gone pale, Umbridge looked like her red face would glow in the dark and Amelia was just smiling at him, her own eyes showing her amusement with the whole thing.

Finally, Dumbledore set off several cannon blasts from his wand, calling for silence.

"Lord Potter how do you know this to be true?" he asked.

"He told Lady Greengrass, personally, in the Chamber of Secrets during our second year."

"You-Know-Who is dead!" Fudge bellowed over the second round of yelling.

Harry chose not to argue. "Well, to be fair, it was something of a memory of Riddle that told her that. I can show you, if you like?"

"We are straying off topic," Fudge protested. "Lord Potter, I must insist that you only answer the questions asked."

Harry gave his best innocent expression as he looked up at the Minister. "But Minister, " he said, "the Dowager Longbottom did ask."

Harry glanced at Sirius out of the corner of his eye to find his godfather biting his bottom lip and his face slowly turning purple as he struggled not to burst out laughing.

"Be that as it may, please, let us stick to the topic at hand," Fudge growled.

Harry shrugged and turned his attention back to Amelia, waiting patiently for a question.

"You were saying that the Headmaster was requesting a copy of records?" she prompted him.

"Right. Anyway, he requested the records only to find that there were no records of either an interrogation or a trial." He looked pointedly at Madam Umbridge. "Unlike Godparent rituals, any trial that takes place in any courtroom is automatically recorded and filed without any human interaction needed. The lack of records in this case is definitive proof that no trial ever took place."

Umbridge was moving past red and into a shade of purple as she fought to hold her tongue.

"And how does this relate to the illegal incarceration of Mister Black, as you claim?"

"As stated in the Quibbler article, Ministry law only allows a suspect to be held for a maximum of thirty days without charges being filed. If no charges are filed in that time the suspect must be set free. No charges were ever filed against Sirius Black, therefore, from thirty days after his initial arrest he has been held, illegally, by the Ministry. This amounts to kidnapping, illegal detainment, and violation of the legal rights of the last living member of one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. This was done by the previous administration, so please, don't think that I am blaming the current members of the DMLE or Minister Fudge for this situation. In fact, I'm pleased that the Minister has seen to it to grant this trial, both so I can get some of the answers I've wanted for nearly my entire life, and so that Mister Black has the chance to clear his name, if he is, in fact, innocent of what he was accused."

A new flurry of flashes went off from the press line and auto-quills whipped madly back and forth across parchment as more murmurs began in the audience. The interruption was brief, however, and Amelia nodded, moving onto her next point.

"As I understand it, you determined that Peter Pettigrew faked his death, how did you come to this conclusion?"

Quickly, Harry went over the points he'd brought up when he was making his argument in the Room of Requirement, including the disappearance of Ron Weasley's rat and how similar that situation looked to the day that Pettigrew supposedly died as nearly every member of the audience and those sitting on the Wizengamot hung on his every word.

When he finished, Amelia turned to address the Mot, herself.

"Next we will be discussing an event that took place on the night of February 3rd of this year. I would like to state now, that I personally witnessed Peter Pettigrew transforming from and into his rat animagus form and that I removed his left leg with a Reductor curse while he was attempting to escape. Pettigrew was then kissed by a Dementor that was part of a large swarm that was in the middle of attacking myself, the Chief Warlock, Senior Auror Shacklebolt, Auror Junior Grade Tonks, Mister Blaise Zabini, Misses Granger, Lovegood, and Bones, Lord Longbottom, Lady Greengrass, Sirius Black, and Lord Potter, on the grounds at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

She turned her attention back to Harry, ignoring the noise from the crowd that her statement had stirred up.

"Can you please recount for us the events that took place that evening, starting with why you were inside the Forbidden Forest that night, Lord Potter?"

Harry winced and nervously stroked the scar behind his jaw with one finger.

"Uh… yeah, that wasn't exactly my brightest move ever," he muttered, then mentally cursed when the viewers laughed. He'd briefly forgotten about the Sonorous cluster on the witness stand. "Well, my friends and I have been working on the Patronus Charm for some time. With the Dementors that were stationed around the school, and the fact that I tend to react fairly poorly to their presence, I felt that I needed to learn a method to defend myself from them, so our Defense Professor this year was helping us to work on it."

"That is an extremely advanced charm," Umbridge pointed out in her grating, girlish voice. "Do you expect us to believe that a third year student was able to cast it?"

"Well, that's exactly why I was out on the grounds that day. I was having some trouble with the charm and I was rather frustrated by the whole thing. We were told that the Dementors had been called back to Azkaban so I took some time to walk around, get some fresh air, and try to clear my head. While I was walking I became… distracted, I guess, both by my difficulties with the charm and with some…" his eyes darted toward where the girls were seated for a moment before he looked back toward Amelia, "personal thoughts," he finished.

"What kind of 'personal thoughts'?" Umbridge asked.

"Thoughts of a personal nature that have no bearing on this trial, Madam Umbridge," Harry growled, angrily.

"Please, continue, Lord Potter," Amelia cut in before Umbridge could respond.

"Anyway, I was so distracted as I was walking, that I honestly didn't notice myself heading into the forest. I wasn't paying any attention at all to my surroundings and just kind of let my feet carry me while my mind was a million miles away. Eventually, I tripped headlong over a tree root and that's when I realized where I was and that I had no idea where the castle was. Lacking much else in the way of options, I started walking, and eventually I came across Miss Lovegood in the process of feeding some of the thestrals that Hagrid, the Grounds Keeper, takes care of. Apparently she helps feed them rather frequently and offered to help me get back to the school, since she knew where we were and, more importantly, how to get back.

"Just as we were starting back to the school, we were stopped by Peter Pettigrew."

"How did you know who he was?" Amelia asked.

"Christmas, my first year at school, Hagrid sent me a gift, a photo album filled with pictures taken during my parents school years at Hogwarts. Since James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew were the best of friends through school, you can imagine there were numerous pictures that included him. He was different after so many years, yes, but he was still easily recognizable. He threatened Luna and I and at one point I tried to attack him but he hit me with a banishing charm. I was lying on the ground and just before he could curse me a huge black dog came running up and slammed into Pettigrew."

"A dog?"

"Sirius Black in his Animagus form. The two of them fought for a little while and eventually, between, Luna, Sirius, and myself, we managed to stun him and started floating him back up to the school." He went on to explain the rest of the event, carefully editing certain, more personal, bits of information, such as Hermione kissing him, and the feelings the girls sent to him through their bond, but he was careful not to say anything that was untrue. When he got to the point of casting his patronus the toad cut in again.

"You have already admitted that you were unable to do the Patronus Charm, little boy," she simpered, glaring furiously at him. "I do not think lying now is in your best interests."

Harry glared at her for a moment. "I think Luna was right the last time we met, Madame Umbridge. You really must be stupid, or otherwise mentally deficient." He ignored the tittering laughter that spread through the crowd, and Umbridge's furious spluttering. "I am sitting in a witness stand that informs when the witness, in this case me, tells a lie. You're a beautiful woman," he added the last and the air around him turned red again, once more spreading laughter through the crowd. "I cast a Patronus Charm on the night in question that fought off and dispersed, perhaps, a hundred Dementors." The air cleared as the red haze vanished and his green eyes gleamed brightly as he stared the toad down.

"Could you show us your Patronus?" someone called from the Wizengamot seating and Harry hesitated. He couldn't cast the charm through his blank, if he tried the thing would burn to a crisp, but he couldn't show off his wandless ability either…

Harry looked toward the girls as an idea occurred to him that might work, silently asking their consent. All three regarded him for a moment before nodding in perfect unison.

"If the court will allow, I think I can," he said. "I wouldn't want to draw my wand again in this crowd without permission to do so."

"You have permission, Lord Potter," Dumbledore said. "I can say that I witnessed the Patronus in question with my own eyes, but if it allays suspicions let us be on with it."

He flicked his wrist, catching the wand blank as it shot into his hand and held it loosely for a moment, adjusting his grip as he stood and closed his eyes as he lowered his Occlumency shields. The moment he did, the same feelings rushed across the bond from the girls, even more powerful than before, but he was better able to filter and categorize the different qualities in the emotions.

He could feel the difference between the love Hermione had for her parents and the love Daphne felt for her mother or her little sister, Astoria. He could feel the love Susan had for her Aunt. And above all of those, the most overpowering sensation of the care and love they felt for him and for each other and, unbeknownst to him, tears began rolling down his cheeks from his closed eyes.

A stillness settled over the room as his robes fluttered slightly and his hair shifted in an impossible breeze for a moment before his eyes slowly opened, glowing brightly, a soft smile turning up his lips. The air around him felt heavy and those nearest to where he stood could feel the weight of his magic pressing down on them like a physical force. His arm came up as he angled his body, just slightly, so that he wasn't pointing his wand blank directly at the seated Wizengamot members and quietly intoned, "Expecto Patronum."

The silver light that burst forth was nowhere near as bright as it had been that night on the grounds and the three figures, while solid, seemed just a little less so than before. Their feet landed on the stone floor in utter silence and they split apart, moving to different parts of the room, heads swinging from side to side in search of an enemy and between them stretched the golden chain, more a misty line in the air, that connected their three hearts together.

After ten seconds they returned to stand in front of Harry and he dropped his arm, smiled and thanked them again before they slowly faded from existence.

The silence stretched on while Harry wiped away the tears he'd suddenly noticed and then he cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention to him. "Satisfied?" he asked.

"That was not a patronus," Umbridge tried to argue. "The Patronus guardian is always an animal, never a person, much less three at once. I don't know what you did, boy but-"

"I am Lord Harry James Potter, Madam Umbridge!" Harry suddenly bellowed, startling more than half the room as his already amplified voice abruptly boomed out across the vast space. "Not a little boy! You have already been warned once to be careful of how you speak, and you choose to ignore my warnings. As the Head of a Most Ancient and Noble House I have the right to challenge you for slights against myself or my House. I don't want to, but I can and I will if you continue to behave in this manner."

"Why you insolent little-"

"Dolores Umbridge shut up!" Fudge suddenly roared, rounding on the startled woman, his face flushing angrily as he crushed his bowler hat in his hands without noticing. "We all heard the incantation, yes, the Patronus guardian hasn't been noted before as a human figure but that does not mean that it is impossible. Other than that gold chain between them and the number that is a textbook perfect Patronus that any Auror would be proud to be able to cast. Be silent or I will have you removed from these chambers."

Harry blinked, his mouth dropping open in astonishment, and before he could stop himself he muttered, "way to go, Fudge," in open astonishment. He flushed brilliantly when the viewers burst into laughter and cursed inside his head, glaring at the Sonorous rune cluster that glowed dimly, as if mocking him, somehow.

"Thank you, Lord Potter, though I think it might be best if we keep to formality, given our current setting."

Harry bowed slightly, well aware this was his mistake. "Of course, Minister, I apologize I was… surprised."

Calmer, Fudge simply waved one hand in a dismissive gesture. "Think nothing of it, Lord Potter. Please, Madame Bones if we could continue?"

"Right. Lord Potter, so you cast your patronus, and then what happened?"

"Well, honestly I don't know. That's about when I blacked out and I only actually woke up yesterday morning. Madam Pomfrey just released me from the hospital wing this morning, luckily in time for me to attend this trial. But that's all the information I presently have."

"All right. Can you think of anything else to offer, any other information in regards to Sirius Black's actions over the last few months?"

Harry thought about that for a few seconds before he visibly brightened. "Oh, yes, there was one other event that I can think of. On the 2nd of October, my friend Lord Longbottom, discovered Black during the first Hogsmeade visit of the year. He, Black, I mean, was in his Animagus form, so Neville had no idea that he wasn't just a stray dog. A friendly, if very intelligent, stray dog. During the next weeks Care of Magical Creatures lesson, we were studying Hippogriffs, and Draco Malfoy got himself nearly mauled by one of them. I used a summoning charm on his robes to pull him out of the way and he immediately accused me of attacking him. We exchanged a few words and then I did something rather stupid. I turned my back on him. I heard him cast an Incendio, and I turned just in time to catch the spell on my right arm instead of getting hit in the face with it.

"The reason I bring this up is that, during the lesson, Black was sitting on the steps to Hagrid's hut in his canine form, perfectly calmly, he even appeared amused. He'd not moved during the entire class. But when Mister Malfoy attacked me, it was less than three seconds before Black was biting his wand arm in an apparent attempt to defend me."

A smattering of conversation moved through the Wizengamot and Amelia nodded, offering him a small smile.

"Thank you, Lord Potter. You may retire to the witness gallery at this time. Head Auror Scrimgeour will escort you."

Harry stepped down from the witness stand and followed the Head Auror up to sit in between Hermione and Susan. Both girls immediately grabbed one of his hands and gave it a comforting squeeze, smiling broadly even as he felt another hand from Susan's side of him grasp his shoulder. Turning his head he was able to make out Daphne's arm stretched across Susan's shoulders so she could reach him.

"You were fantastic, Harry," Hermione muttered.

"Yeah, though I think you've made a new enemy with Umbridge. She was glaring daggers at you the whole time you were walking up here."

"Yeah, probably not my best move ever, but she annoyed me. Something about her really creeps me out, too."

Someone behind them shushed them and they fell silent, watching the rest of the proceedings.

"Sirius Black," Dumbledore called, rising to his feet as he addressed the restrained wizard. "You have given testimony under the effects of Veritaserum as to the events that took place on the night of October 31st, 1981, as well as November 3rd, 1981. With corroborating testimony into more recent events I believe that there is more than enough material for us to call for a vote."

He drew his wand from his sleeve and lifted it into the air.

"Members of the Wizengamot, for a vote of innocent, light the tip of your wand with a green light. For a guilty vote, light your wand with a red light. To abstain, simply do not light your wand any color. Cast your vote now."

In less than five seconds it was overwhelmingly clear that the vote was in favor of innocent, and Harry had to stop himself from leaping from his seat in his excitement.

"With a vote of 42 for innocent, 3 for guilty and 5 abstentions, this body votes that Sirius Black has been found innocent of all charges brought against him."

Dumbledore had to pause as the cheering from the audience would have drowned out any attempt for him to speak. He let it go on for some time, smiling softly all the while.

"Furthermore," he said, once he could make himself heard. "The charge of being an unregistered animagus is considered time served, and the fine will be waived if you make sure to register with the proper department within the next week. From here, you will be escorted to St. Mungo's Hospital for a medical evaluation, your time in Azkaban has likely had a deleterious effect on your health and your medical costs will be covered by the Ministry. Last, but not least, for every year that you were unjustly and illegally incarcerated due to the actions of the previous Minister of Magic, you are going to be awarded 100,000 galleons for a total of 1,200,000 galleons. These funds will be deposited directly into your Gringotts account and you have the sincere apologies of this body for everything that you have suffered."

#####

Harry had assumed that the trial would take up the lion's share of their time away from school. He had assumed wrong. After the verdict was handed down, he and his friends had been practically swarmed by reporters. They'd gotten who knew how many photos when he'd run up and thrown his arms around his Godfather, nearly knocking the man to the ground.

Then the questions started. Of course, more than one asked about what he'd said regarding Voldemort having a muggle father and Daphne had been forced to recount the story of her conversation with the shade of Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets. While she'd been doing that, Harry had written the words, TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE in the air using his wand blank and then set them shifting back and forth every ten seconds between the name and the phrase I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.

There had been more than a few pictures taken of that, as well, and he could only imagine it would appear in more than one newspaper the next day.

Eventually, they managed to get through the crowd of reporters when they were surrounded by a wall of Aurors, each of them yelling for the crowd to back up as they were led through the Ministry, to the lifts, and back up to Amelia's office, where Harry and Sirius both collapsed into a pair of chairs near the door, more than ready for the day to be over.

After another hour spent in discussion, Sirius bid his goodbyes and was sent off to the hospital with an Auror guard to help keep the press at bay while Harry and the rest of them returned to the school.

"Well, it has been quite a day, and I do believe that dinner will be served in the not too distant future. Have a pleasant evening, all of you."

He was smiling broadly, as he spoke, but it was a clear dismissal, so the rest of them made their way out of the office and down the spiral stairs. Luna hugged them all, even Blaise, who seemed more than a little surprised by the attack on his person and she skipped away, humming quietly to herself as the rest of them just stared after her in their usual bemusement.

"Well, I'm heading for dinner. I can't tell the rest of you how hungry I am. It's been a hell of a day," Blaise muttered and Neville fell into step with him, waving to the four bonded as he struck up a conversation with their Slytherin friend.

Harry found himself struck with a case of nerves again, realizing he was standing alone with his girls and he turned to find them looking expectantly at him so he cleared his throat, nervously, and stroked the scar behind his jaw without thinking.

"Ummm… could you… could the three of you meet me in the Room?" he asked. "I just… I have something I need to take care of, really quick, and I'll be right there."

"Okay, Harry. We'll see about getting something sent up for us to eat instead of having to go down to the Great Hall for dinner, how's that?"

"Thank you, Hermione. That would be perfect," he agreed and with a quick hug and a kiss from each girl, they separated and started toward the Room of Requirement, leaving Harry standing in the hall with his heart beating wildly in his chest and suddenly clammy hands that he couldn't make sit still for the life of him.

"Oh, Merlin, what the hell am I doing?" he muttered and started walking quickly, just shy of running, through the castle toward the Defense office.

Reaching the door, he knocked, almost frantically, until it was pulled open by a clearly amused Remus Lupin.

"Bee in your bonnet, Mister Potter?" he asked in an all too innocent tone of voice and Harry's glowing eyes narrowed at him.

"Please, Moony. Please don't tease me. This is really, really not the time to tease me."

"Padfoot would disagree, but I'm not nearly that mean, Harry. So, you need them?" he asked and Harry nodded rapidly. Reaching into his pocket, Remus pulled out a small box and handed it over. "It's shrunk down," he explained at the look on Harry's face. "A simple Finite will return it to normal size and I'm fairly sure you know how to take it from there."

Harry fingered the box in his hand, turning it slowly over and over.

"Is this the right thing to do?" he asked. "I mean… I don't know what I'm doing here, Moony, really I don't."

"Harry." Remus reached out and grasped him by both shoulders, warm brown eyes meeting glowing emerald green. "Take a breath, and stop panicking. Those girls feel something for you. Whether they're right, and it's love or not doesn't really matter. At the very minimum they care about you a great deal. You've all been through a lot together, and experienced a lot together. Unless you're a horrid arse-hat to them, I'm fairly certain you won't do anything to upset them, not anything intentional and that couldn't be fixed.

"Just be honest and clear with them and I'm pretty sure everything will work out in the end, okay?"

Harry took several deep breaths, listening carefully to his parents old friend, and nodded along as the man spoke. "Okay. Yeah, okay I can do that. Honest and clear, I can do that."

"Good man. Now get out of here. I need to head down to the Great Hall if I want to get anything to eat tonight."

With a final, encouraging pat on his shoulder, Remus closed the door to his office and walked away, hands in his pockets and whistling quietly to himself as he went, leaving Harry standing alone outside the office door, box clutched firmly in his hands.

Turning, Harry quickly made his way up to the Room, his legs practically shaking as he walked but he forced his feet forward until he stood outside an ornate wooden door with a brass handle that gleamed in the torchlight. Taking one last breath, he stuffed the box into his pocket, reached out, and turned the handle.

Inside, the Room had been configured into a comfortable dining room with a table just big enough for the four of them and a simple, quiet atmosphere that did a great deal to calm his nerves. The girls were already seated, eating lightly and discussing the trial as he entered and they each flashed him a smile but didn't stop eating or talking as he entered. They had each removed their robes, leaving them in casual skirts and long sleeved blouses, their feet bare on the plush carpet beneath them.

Immediately, Harry removed his Order of Merlin and stuffed it in his other pocket as he quickly shrugged off his heavy House Robes and hung them from a coat rack standing near the door. He pulled out his chair and sat, resting his elbows on the table for a moment before he came to a decision and unbuttoned the cuffs of his black dress shirt and started rolling back his sleeves to his elbows.

It wasn't until he'd finished that he noticed the girls had gone silent and he looked up to see them smiling broadly at him as he rested his bare forearms on the table in front of him. Reaching over, Hermione grasped his hand tightly for a moment before they returned to their meal and Harry served himself some of the mouth watering shepherds pie, digging in as the girls talked. When he had something to contribute to the meandering discussion, he did so. When he didn't, he simply ate in silence and watched as the girls interacted.

Susan and Daphne were openly more affectionate with each other than Hermione was with them. Frequent brushes of a hand across arm or shoulder occured and more than once Susan reached out to brush a few strands of Daphne's hair aside, tucking it gently behind her ear. The same could be said for Hermione, but she was noticeably less frequent in her affections, though when she did, each action seemed to radiate a sense of care and love that struck him deeply.

He wanted to be a part of that. To have what they had and feel what they so obviously felt.

Can I, though? He wondered as they rapidly neared the end of their meal and dessert appeared on the table.

"Harry?"

He looked up at the sound of Susan's voice to find the three of them looking, almost expectantly at him. Blinking in surprise, he noted that, sometime during his musings, dessert had disappeared, leaving the table clear and they were waiting to learn why it was he'd asked to speak to them.

"Oh, sorry… my mind kind of wandered off with me there," he muttered, fighting back an embarrassed flush.

"That's fine," Hermione said, smiling gently. "Now that you're back with us, though, what was it you wanted to discuss?"

"I… I needed to talk to you," he stuttered. "Ummm… can we… let's get up, for a moment."

Exchanging a look, the girls stood and at Harry's need, the Room shifted around them, their cozy dining room disappearing only to be replaced with the miniature version of their Common Room in Gryffindor Tower. "Please," he said, gesturing to the recreation of their sofa, "ummm… have a seat."

The girls sat as Harry moved over to his robes and pulled the box from his pocket. Moving back to stand in front of the fire he pulled the low table aside, leaving a clear space between the sofa and the fireplace and set the box on the table before he straightened and turned his attention back to the three curious gazes that followed his every motion.

Nervously, one finger stroked the scar behind his jaw and he started pacing in front of the fire.

"I need… I need you three to understand. I…" He blew out a loud sigh and stopped, his head tilting back to look up at the ceiling for a moment before he turned fully to face them, his arms crossed over his chest, the scars on his forearm gleaming slightly in the light of the fire until he moved to stand with his back towards it.

"Hermione, you said you loved me." He said, a statement rather than a question, but she still nodded.

"Yes, Harry, I do. It's taken me a while to understand it, but I know it, now."

He nodded, frowning slightly and turned his attention to Susan.

"She said that you loved me, too."

"I do, Harry. I've known since you… since you died back in first year. I was so scared when they told us that, it just hit me. It took me a little while longer to understand what it was I felt, but once I finally did it was all just so clear that I was amazed I didn't see it sooner."

He turned to Daphne, one brow raised questioningly, but he said nothing and she nodded, her icy blue eyes locked firmly on his.

"I love you, too," she whispered. "It's… it's not quite the same for me, there are… different obstacles for me to overcome, but I do love you. It's been growing for some time now, the closer we've gotten and the more our bond has grown the greater my feelings for all of you have grown."

"So you all think you love me just because of the bond?"

"No," Hermione disagreed, shaking her head sharply. "No, Harry. that's what I worried about for months, now. I fought against it. I doubted myself and what I felt and it took me a while to realize that the bond may have allowed us to fall in love with you, and each other, but it didn't make us do it."

His frown deepened and he uncrossed his arms, stuffing his hands roughly into the pockets of his slacks. Dressed all in black from his dragon hide boots to his slacks and his shirt with the top two buttons undone they could just see a couple of the scars on his chest and those across his forearms. In a single word, he looked dangerous. A dark warrior, a fighter. And he looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"You all know there's a prophecy involving me and Voldemort," he pointed out. "Dumbledore still hasn't told us the wording, but we can guess what it probably says. In the end, it's most likely going to come down to me and him. One of us is going to have to die."

Tears brimming in their eyes, they nodded.

"And I've already killed," he continued. "A troll, Quirrel, the basilisk. You really think you can love someone like that?"

Hermione reached out and grasped the nearest hand of the girls on either side of her, squeezing tightly even as they squeezed back.

"We can, Harry," she choked out. "Killing is a terrible thing, but sometimes you don't have any choice. You're a good person, we know that. We're not ever afraid of you. You've got some heavy burdens, and all we want is to help you carry them."

He fell silent again, glowing green eyes studying each of them carefully as they pushed their feelings across the bond toward him, attempting without words to show him just what he meant to them.

Turning, he walked slowly over to the table and waved his right hand over the box. Silently it expanded to easily four times its previous size and he lifted the lid, pulling three, smaller boxes out of it.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was indisposed and I missed Valentine's Day this year. Since Pomfrey had me trapped in the Hospital Wing yesterday, I got Sirius to talk to Remus and got a little help picking up some gifts I'd arranged but hadn't been able to finish up."

"You don't need to get us anything, Harry."

He turned his head, looking at them out of the corner of his eyes.

"Maybe not. But I wanted to, and it's kind of important right now, to me." He reached into the box and pulled out three cloth wrapped bundles, handing one to each girl.

Silence reigned as they carefully unwrapped the cloth to unveil two perfectly crafted crystal roses, one white and one red, their green stems intimately entwined with each other.

"A red and a white rose symbolizes unity, remember?" he asked, referring to the roses he'd sent them the previous year and the girls nodded, not even bothering to wipe away the few tears that fell. "For us, for the four of us, I think that means more now than it ever has. This bond… we're a team, the four of us. You three… you pooled your power, somehow, to summon that dome. And my patronus… obviously you're so much a part of me that you protect me even from the deepest darkness. I can't properly tell you how grateful I am to you for that."

He pulled three more, smaller boxes from the one on the table and pushed it aside, setting them down next to each other before he picked up one of them and looked inside.

"I don't understand love," he said, looking up at them again. "I don't," he insisted, cutting them off as they made to protest. "I've never felt love before the other night. No one's ever shown me anything like it. Susan, first year, after the sorting when we talked by the fire and you hugged me? That was the first time I can ever remember anyone hugging me. Ever. My Aunt and my Uncle… they didn't just beat me. They didn't just whip me, cut me, and burn me. They made sure to tell me how horrible I was. How I was a freak that nobody wanted. They didn't want me. They didn't love me. And no one else would, either.

"I get it. In here," he tapped his temple. "I understand that they were lying to me. I understand that it's possible for someone to care for me and t-to actually love me. But, understanding and believing are two entirely different things."

He took a deep breath and moved back in front of the fire.

"Since I don't want to seem like I'm playing favorites, or something. I think I'm just going to do this in the order that we met, for right now, if that's okay?"

Wordlessly they nodded, waiting, breathless, for whatever was in those boxes.

"Hermione, can you come here, please?" he asked, his voice quavering slightly and she nodded again, handing her crystal roses to Susan to hold for her as she stood and moved over in front of him.

"I don't know how Remus got these away from you guys, but I'm glad he did," Harry said, his lips quirking up into a small grin as he pulled Hermione's charm bracelet from inside the box and tossed the empty carton onto the table. It was the first gift he'd ever given to them. A bracelet of braided white gold with a single charm dangling from it.

For Hermione, that first charm had been a tiny book. For Christmas, and their birthdays, he'd added a charm to each one, even going back to buy them one for the first birthdays that they'd missed in their first year. Now Hermione had the book, a small cauldron, a cat, an otter, a tiny slice of pumpkin pie, her favorite dessert, and a witch's hat.

She lifted her arm and he carefully clasped the bracelet around her wrist, but when she went to lower it he caught her hand and held it, rubbing his thumb across the scars on her palm that he couldn't see beneath her ever present glamour. He held up his free hand, his fingers curled into a loose fist, and slowly opened his hand, showing a new charm lying in the center of his palm.

It was a heart. A heart framed in white gold and cut from a ruby. The deep red of the stone shone in the light of the fire and she couldn't hold back a gasp of surprise at the simple elegance and beauty of it.

"I don't know love," he repeated himself. "But I'm willing to try to learn. I honestly don't know what's going on here, how you three think this is supposed to work or what you want… but I'm willing to try. I wish I could promise more. I wish I could say more. But right now, I just don't know, for sure. This," he held up the ruby heart. "This is my promise to try. To try to learn, to try to understand whatever it is you three think you can teach me. If that's enough for you, for now, just say it. If it's not, I won't be upset, because I'll still always be here for all three of you. That will never change as long as I'm still alive."

Words failed Hermione Granger entirely and all she could do was nod, smiling tremulously at him and he grinned in response as he carefully attached the charm to her wrist. Once it was on, he kept hold of her hand, still, and reached up to tuck a lock of curly brown hair behind her left ear. His fingers tangled in her curls, he pulled her closer and gently pressed his lips to hers. Her muscles seemed to melt, her body sagging against him and he steadied her, dropping her hand to wrap that arm around her waist for the few seconds the kiss lasted.

When he pulled back, the light in his eyes gleamed brightly and he could have sworn an answering glow burned somewhere in the depths of her cinnamon irises.

"Thank you," she whispered. "We understood that you're not quite ready, not where we are, really. We were trying not to push you, but, at the same time, we wanted you to know how we felt. I didn't want to throw that at you the other night, I know you've been confused but-"

He cut her off, quickly pressing another kiss against her lips and then grinned at her when he pulled back.

"Well… I think I might have found a new way to get your attention when you start rambling," he muttered and she mock scowled at him, an effect that was completely ruined by the bright smile she couldn't suppress even if she'd wanted to. Quickly, she pulled him into a tight hug for a moment before she pulled away and moved back to the sofa, collecting her roses, along with Susan's, so the redhead could stand and move over to Harry.

Her bracelet had the broomstick from their first Christmas together along with an owl, a skull, a wand, and a rune meaning loyalty. Wordlessly, she held out her right hand and he wrapped it around her wrist, carefully locking the clasp before he held up the ruby heart that went with hers.

"Absolutely," she said, before he could say anything and he chuckled quietly.

"I promise I'll try, Susan," he told her as he attached the heart with the rest of her charms. "It's the most I can do but I mean it as sincerely as I possibly can."

"Just kiss me, already," she muttered and pulled him forward to meet her.

When they broke apart, Harry looked just the slightest bit dazed and took a few seconds to gather himself before he hugged her. She returned to her seat next to Hermione with a broad grin on her face and a slight bounce in her step that had Daphne and Hermione both laughing.

"Daphne?"

The blond handed her roses to Hermione and stood, moving over to stand in front of Harry, looking up into his glowing gaze, so much like the night she first kissed him.

"I had a question for you, first," he said and she nodded for him to continue. "When you kissed me on New Year's Eve, you said that you were afraid you wouldn't like it, and afraid that you would. What did you mean?"

Daphne sighed. She'd hoped to have avoided that question and had already repeatedly kicked herself for letting that slip, but her nerves had gotten away from her. She couldn't not tell him now, or worse, lie. So she took a breath and told the truth.

"I've always considered myself a lesbian, or a witch's witch, for the wizarding world term," she said in as calm a voice as she could and Harry immediately looked confused.

"I don't understand."

"Our bond has let us get so close that I fell in love with you. But I was confused. I didn't think I was interested in men, but I was in love with you. I decided I needed to kiss you, to see what I thought of it, how I felt about it."

"And? How did you feel about it?"

"I enjoyed it, a lot," she whispered, her cheeks glowing red. "Far more than I expected to. I may not find other males attractive, but I do find _you_ attractive. This is something Hermione and I have both considered over the last few months, in our own ways. She wasn't much interested in girls, but she fell in love with us, anyway. We both had to come to our own conclusions on what we felt and what we wanted and we both decided we wanted us."

"You're sure?" he asked and she nodded emphatically.

"Absolutely, Harry. I've never been more sure of anything."

He studied her for a moment longer before he nodded and lifted her right hand to attach the bracelet to her wrist then the heart went on and he pulled her close to him.

She'd already heard what he said to Hermione and to Susan, and she didn't want to wait for him to repeat the same thing. Just as he started to open his mouth to speak, her fingers tangled in his hair and she pulled him down, hungrily bringing his mouth to hers. She was determined to wipe away any doubts he might have had, any worries that she might not actually want him as she claimed.

Hermione and Susan later informed her that they were reasonably certain she managed to wipe away any coherent thought he might have been capable of as her tongue gently traced his mouth before she'd pulled, breathlessly, away.

After Daphne returned to her seat, and Harry had managed to re-engage his brain enough to pull his usual chair over to sit with them, they talked for a while longer. Nothing else deep or emotional. Just simple, light conversation. Something they were quite good at.

When they returned to the Common Room, just before curfew, Harry stopped the girls at the base of the stairs.

"So… what happens now?" he asked and they exchanged another look before turning back to him.

"Sirius is free," Hermione said.

"The Dementors are gone," offered Susan.

"You kept your promise and saved me from my father," said Daphne. "And Pettigrew has paid for his crimes."

Leaning forward, Hermione pressed a light peck of a kiss against his lips.

"Now, we have nothing to concern ourselves with but school, homework, our friends, and each other."

"Looks like we finally got it, Harry," Susan said as Hermione moved back so the redhead could lean in to kiss him goodnight.

Daphne moved in and pulled him down toward her and, just before their lips met, she murmured, "we're going to have a quiet rest of the school year."

So Ends Part Three of

Soul Scars: The Greengrass Problem

Next:

Part Four

Soul Scars:

Allegria


	44. Part Four: Allegria

***UPDATE* Okay, so some comments and some discussions and I realized the whole Family magic bit that I had wasn't really needed. It was part of an interesting (to me) idea that I had in my head but really wasn't necessary and honestly just overly complicated things. Especially since I didn't think things through all the way and there were a lot of issues with that. Poor explanation and more so I've cut that section and re-written, adding in a bit of other discussion.**

 **Apologies for dropping the ball there. I thought I had covered my basais but it was pointed out to me that there were a lot of flaws in there. Hopefully I excised everything correctly so this updated chapter should read okay without seeming off but please let me know if I missed anything. Hey, in 43 chapters only one needed a big chunk redone after posting, I guess that's not horrible, really. Sorry again guys and thank sfor your patience, the new chapter is in the works.*UPDATE***

 **Author's Notes: The Rotten Writer returns with the newest installment of Soul Scars. The Beginning of Part Four: Allegria is upon us ladies and gentlemen. I know, it's barely been a few days since my last post but I've just been inspired. Hoping to keep the momentum. So, I'm looking at three maybe four chapters to get through the summer and into the actual school year. This year is still going to keep to the major canon points such as there being a tri-wizard tournament, yule ball, other such things. But there will be more AU going on and pulling us further away from the canon material.**

 **I might even be tweaking the tasks in the Tournament itself while all this is going on. We shall see what we shall see.**

 **So the votes were rather overwhelmingly in favor of continuing to just post the story here chapter by chapter so that's what I'll do. I did really consider breaking it and starting a new story as a part two, kind of deal, but it really would have been weird. We'll see how big this thing gets, I guess.**

 **Disclaimer: I own not Harry Potter. Thank you.**

 **Here it is, Chapter 43 of Soul Scars and the beginning of Part Four of the series.**

Soul Scars Part Four

Allegria

By,

Rtnwriter

Soft footsteps whispered across the grass, deep, even breaths the only other sound in the early morning silence. Glowing green eyes swept the path in front of him as he ran, wisps of ebony hair occasionally falling into his eyes that he would absently brush away with one hand.

He took a deep breath of the morning air through his nose, smiling as it filled his lungs and the sweet scents of grass and honeysuckle assaulted his senses. For Harry Potter, life was good. His life had always been hard, painful, and lonely, as far back as he could remember. Then, on his eleventh birthday, it changed forever.

Oh, life was still frequently painful, and it was still hard, but a month after that birthday, it was no longer lonely. At eleven, he discovered that he was special, not a freak like his relatives so often told him. He discovered magic, for Harry was a wizard. Starting at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry saw him making some extremely special friends, and he found himself bonded, magic and soul, to three, extraordinary girls.

At first he hadn't been thrilled to be a part of a bond that he hadn't asked for and had no choice in. But he soon found that the girls bonded to him quickly becoming the most important people in his life, meaning more to him than anyone he'd ever known.

His first and second years at school had seen more ups and downs then he'd ever imagined might be possible. Known as the Boy-Who-Lived when he entered the wizarding world for the first time in more than ten years he'd been mobbed by fans, well wishers, and potential hanger-on's. He'd been quickly overwhelmed. School wasn't much better. Aside from his few friends, he was stared at and people talked and whispered behind their hands about him as he passed in the halls.

He swerved suddenly, moving off the path and into the woods behind the large manor house that belonged to the Bones family as he shoved aside the rest of his first year memories. Second year was worse in some ways, filled with fear, death, blood, and pain.

Third year's adventure, while still filled with more than a small amount of danger, had ended earlier than the previous years had, and left them nearly half the year to enjoy as just students, attending classes, doing their homework, spending time with their friends… possibly dating?

He frowned at that, ducking under tree limbs and leaping over roots as he ran. His body twisted and bent, moving expertly through the brush as he let his mind wander a bit. Not too much, of course, the last time he'd wandered without paying attention to his surroundings he'd nearly gotten killed by the man that had betrayed his parents to their deaths.

In February of the previous year, the three girls Harry had long thought of, privately, as 'his girls' had admitted that they all loved him. Of course, life couldn't be simple for him, apparently they loved each other as well. With the life he'd had, however, he had little experience and even less understanding of love, affection, care, or any of the more pleasant emotions that normal people experienced on a daily basis.

He wasn't sure what to do about it. So he'd decided to promise them that he would try. He would try to understand, try to learn, because he wanted to be a part of what they obviously had. He wanted that sense of belonging that he'd never dreamed could actually be his.

So for the remainder of the year… well… he couldn't honestly say that they'd been dating. They never actually went on a date. Besides, they already ate nearly every meal together, sat together in almost every class, and spent most of their waking hours in each other's presence. But, instead of simply receiving the hugs and kisses on the cheek that the girls had been offering to him for years, he started to reciprocate, and if a few of those kisses landed on lips instead of cheeks, well, that wasn't exactly a hardship.

He still wasn't sure exactly _what_ they were doing, or what it was he was supposed to be learning. But he was trying, and they hadn't seemed to have any complaints.

Coming back to himself as his meandering path through the woods brought him back in sight of the Boneyard, Harry realized that the calm, even breaths he'd had at the start had given way to short gasping gulps of air. His legs and lungs burned and a stitch was developing in his side so he slowed to a walk as he made his way to a practice area a few dozen feet from the pool where he could make out two figures facing each other within a twenty foot circle marked off on the grass.

One of them, his first friend after the girls, Neville Longbottom, was almost unrecognizable from the short, pudgy boy he'd been in first year. Now, Neville was half a head taller than Harry was at five foot six inches and the baby fat he'd carried in first year had long melted away as an effect of their, almost, daily workouts.

He was broad shouldered with lean muscle mass packed onto his frame. His shaggy, light brown hair was plastered to his forehead and neck by sweat and his brown eyes peered intently at the boy facing him, a wooden practice sword held in both hands before him.

Blaise Zabini wasn't supposed to be their friend, not according to 90% of Hogwarts students and Alumni. Neville and Harry were in Gryffindor, and Blaise was a Slytherin. The long standing enmity between the two school Houses was practically legendary, but they didn't care.

Blaise was a dark skinned, Italian born wizard with dark hair and eyes. In first year he'd been short and stocky, his chest and shoulders seemingly abnormally broad for his frame and last year they found out why.

He had been training to use the sword since he was five. As a result the muscles in his chest, shoulders, and back were abnormally developed in comparison to other muscle groups that he did not exercise with the same diligence. Since he'd joined them the year before they'd corrected much of his fitness. He would always be broad shouldered but he now had the height to make him simply intimidating, instead of odd looking.

Both boys were wearing dragonhide boots and black track pants but there upper bodies were naked to the waist and several dark bruises already stood out on arms and torsos from strikes by the wooden swords they each held. As Harry approached, he dropped to the grass and started to stretch, watching as the two boys suddenly launched themselves at each other.

The clacking sound of wood against wood filled the yard as they fought back and forth. Neville's face was a study of intensity as he attempted to strike his opponent while Blaise carefully studied his opponent, occasionally barking out instructions, commands, or corrections.

"Weight on your back leg, Nev," Blaise called as the wooden sword twirled in his hands and he lashed out, scoring a blow across Neville's rib cage on his left side. "Protect your off hand side."

"Son of a motherless…" Neville snarled and trailed off, backpedaling quickly to get out of Blaise's reach for a moment. Blaise pressed his advantage, not letting Neville get his equilibrium back and in moments Neville landed on his back on the grass with a 'whuff' of air escaping his lungs as Blaise held the tip of his practice sword to his throat.

"Better," Blaise said, offering Neville a hand up.

"I just got spanked, how is that better?"

"Your form and balance are visibly improving, Nev. I've been doing this for eight years, you and Harry have only been practicing for about five months. You're not going to catch up to me anytime soon. Which isn't to say you won't be able to, one day, just not in the next few years, most likely. You're both doing much better than I expected so soon into practicing. You might not see it but take it from me, you are."

"Yeah, if you say so," Neville grumbled, but he was smiling as he took Blaise's offered hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. "Is it Harry's turn for you to beat on him?" he asked and Harry stuck his tongue out at the man he considered as much of a brother as it was possible to be without sharing blood.

"You're all heart, Nev."

"Heart has nothing to do with it. I just don't want to get anymore bruises and I'd rather you saved my arse like you save everyone else's."

"The girl's arses are cuter than yours," Harry shot back, which had Blaise laughing at the shocked expression on Neville's face.

"Should I inform the girls on your opinion regarding their arses?" Neville finally asked, slowly moving toward the house and Harry's expression had Blaise literally rolling on the grass.

"Don't your dare, Neville," Harry called, pointing a threatening finger at his friend, who started moving faster. Holding out his right hand, Harry silently summoned one of the practice swords into his hand and started chasing after Neville. "Get back here, Longbottom!"

"Catch me if you can, Potter!"

#####

Susan winced and rubbed the outside of her right thigh for a moment before she sighed and directed a glare toward the back door from her spot sitting across the corner from her aunt at the kitchen table.

Amelia smiled slightly. "Sword practice?" she asked, and Susan growled low in the back of her throat.

"Bloody prat is lucky he's cute," she grumbled.

"If the last two generations of them are anything to go by, 'You're lucky you're cute, Potter', should be the House Motto."

Susan snorted out a laugh and then took a sip of her tea. "I'll offer that as a recommendation," she muttered into her cup, causing her aunt to chuckle quietly for several minutes. She covered a yawn with one hand and mentally cursed her inability to sleep over the last week since their return from school. Her bed just felt too big and empty without the other girls with her.

"So, what are we waiting for?" Susan finally asked and rolled her eyes when Amelia arched a questioning brow in her direction. "I know you too well, Auntie," she said. "You like to hold conversations over tea. Since we're not really conversing, that means we're waiting for something or someone else."

Amelia smiled fondly at her niece. "You really are too clever for my own good, sometimes," she muttered just as the chime for the Floo echoed through the house and Susan suddenly broke into a broad grin.

"Hermione," she murmured softly and she was out of her chair, almost before Amelia knew what was happening.

"And that's why we're having this discussion," she muttered to herself as she stood and followed Susan from the room at a far more reasonable speed.

By the time she reached the Floo Access Room, Susan was already wrapped around her bond mate, hugging the other girl tightly before drawing her into an emotional kiss. Before they could get too caught up, Amelia quietly cleared her throat and couldn't help a grin when Hermione let out a startled squeak and hastily pulled back from the kiss, but not out of Susan's arms.

"Umm… sorry, Amy," she muttered, her face flushing a bright red as she attempted to hide against Susan's shoulder.

"That's okay, but actually leads me to part of what I wanted to talk to you and Daphne about. As soon as she gets here we'll sit down for some tea and chat a bit."

Susan and Hermione both winced, getting the distinct impression that a less than comfortable discussion was in their future, but, nearly in unison, they sighed in resignation, knowing there was no avoiding it.

A moment later the chime went off again as another large green flame bloomed into existence in the fireplace and Daphne stepped lightly out and into the room, already brushing soot from the shoulders of her casual day robes in a light sky blue that almost matched her eyes.

"I have missed you two," she muttered as Hermione and Susan each lifted one arm, beckoning her to join their hug. She wrapped an arm around each girls waist as they wrapped theirs around her shoulders, the three of them just standing together for a few moments before they separated and followed Amelia to the kitchen.

"It's been annoying trying to sleep the last week. I'd really forgotten how strange it is, sleeping alone after being with the both of you almost every night for most of the year."

Hermione nodded, sliding into a seat at the table as she considered Daphne's statement.

"Yeah, I haven't liked being alone at home since the end of first year. I think I've just gotten so used to extra bodies in bed with me."

"We'll get to that discussion in a minute, ladies," Amelia cut in, already pouring from the new tea set that had appeared with a quiet pop once they were all seated. She handed out cups of tea and the four of them prepared their own to their liking in silence until Amelia leaned back in her seat and looked to the three girls.

The upcoming discussion was likely to be unpleasant, but she decided to get it out of the way first so they could be done with it and move on.

"First, before we call Harry in here, I wanted to discuss sleeping arrangements around here, considering the recent… changes in your relationship," she said, diving right into the conversation she didn't want to have, but felt was needed.

All three girls flushed brightly and she could almost see them fighting not to edge away from each other.

"I know I have no control over you what you girls get up to when you're not here, I'm not stupid and I won't even pretend that I really have any control over your decisions. I would just like to make sure you understand that while you're underage, I would much rather you three control yourselves in this house. If you can promise me that, I'll allow you to continue as you have up till now, otherwise I'll have to insist that you keep to your own rooms to sleep in."

They muttered their agreement, refusing to even look in each others directions. Not that the idea hadn't occurred to any of them, they were just still a bit young for that sort of thing and Hermione in particular was happy to take things slowly as their relationship grew.

Amelia's smile was comforting as she hid her amusement at their reaction. That did more to reassure her than any promises they might have made and she waved one hand in a dismissive gesture.

"Nothing more needs to be said on that, then. Other than, if any of you ever have any questions or concerns, I do hope you feel comfortable enough to talk to me about it. No, it won't be an embarrassment free discussion, but I'd rather you talk to me, Danyella, or Emma, than get bad information or advice from somewhere else." She leaned back in her seat again and gestured to their cooling cups of tea that had sat untouched in front of them. "Finish your tea, take a few minutes to compose yourselves and I'll get Harry in here for the next things I wanted to talk to you about."

By the time they finished, their faces had returned to a more normal color and Amelia made her way to the door, calling out into the back yard for Harry. With the door open, they could hear the occasional clack of the wooden swords, which stopped abruptly for a moment before restarting.

Amelia was just sinking into her seat when Harry stepped into the kitchen, pulling his shirt on over his head as he did.

"What's going on, Amy?" he asked, leaning against the counter by the sink with his arms crossed over his chest. A sheen of sweat stood out on his face and his breath was coming faster than usual, testament to the effort he was putting into the sword practice.

"I wanted to talk to the four of you about the Unspeakables. Next week is the meeting you four agreed to with Director Croaker from the Department of Mysteries. I still have no idea why he wants to talk to you but I promise that I'll be with you the entire time. I want the four of you to put your heads together and see what questions you can come up with for the Director. The Unspeakables tend to be looked on with suspicion and worry, but they really are on the side of wizarding society. They would never support the dark, and they do have only the best interests of the people in mind.

"That being said, best interests of the people doesn't mean your best interests. If they felt that there was something to be gained from hurting or capturing any of you, they wouldn't hesitate to do it. They would sacrifice anyone if they felt it was necessary. I don't want to worry you, but I don't want you going in blind, either. Understand?"

Four wide eyed teens nodded silently.

"They can be a great asset to have on your side, but don't take anything for granted. Go into that meeting with your eyes open and your guard up and play Lord Potter to the hilt, Harry. You need to establish from the beginning that you are a power in your own right and not someone they want to mess with, but you can't be too heavy handed, either. It's a balancing act. Talk with Susan and Daphne over the next few days. Blaise and Neville too. They've all seen enough of how wizarding society works they can offer some advice on how to act for this one. And the four of you should be a unit, a united front. Make sure you're all on the same page before we get there, okay?"

They nodded again, Susan and Daphne already going through ideas in their heads on how to help prepare Harry and Hermione for the meeting.

"Well, now that I've scarred you for, probably, the rest of your natural lives, what were your plans for the rest of the day?"

"I'd love to spend some time here, but I need to get back to the Manor," Daphne said, sadly. "I had a sweep done of the place the day after we returned from school and a team of curse breakers found that nearly every room in the house had monitoring charms, each attached to a recording of some sort. I'm having the charms removed, the wards updated and the house swept again for anything that shouldn't be there before they bring the new wards up again. It's going to be a long process and I need to be there as the Lady of the House." She glanced at her watch and stood. "Actually, I should be going, now, the curse breakers are supposed to be arriving at ten o'clock." She quickly hugged and kissed her three bond mates before hugging Amelia as well and made her way out of the kitchen. A moment later the Floo chimed indicating that she'd left the Boneyard.

Susan and Hermione decided they wanted to try and get in a nap so more hugs and kisses were had before they wandered their way upstairs and Amelia turned her attention to Harry where he stood by the sink, his arms crossed over his chest and a pensive frown on his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked, knowingly. She'd seen that expression on his face often enough since she'd first met him and it was a clear indicator that not all was right in the mind of Harry Potter.

He sighed and picked up his half empty mug of coffee before coming over to take Susan's vacated seat at the table.

"I'm not liking the idea of this meeting with Croaker. It seems like it's just a bad idea to get involved with them at all from what everyone keeps saying. And the first time I met them, I didn't get a good vibe from the Director."

"How do you mean?" she asked, studying him carefully as he frowned and thought over the meeting their first day of third year when Hermione was offered the Time Turner.

"Did you know that they tried to offer a Time Turner for Hermione to attend all her classes last year?" he asked and she shook her head, her own brow furrowing in concern. "Well, they did. Croaker pointed out that they had no idea what would happen if she used it because of our bond. Like, if she went back an hour would it hurt her? Would it cut her from the bond because she was out of time, or would our past selves feel a link to her? They had no idea, and the Director commented that they were curious to find out what would happen, but then, like an afterthought, said they would never risk our health or safety just for an experiment.

"I don't know. I kind of got the feeling that if they could have gotten away with it, that's exactly what they would have done. Just let her use it and see what would happen to the rest of us. You said they're offering to help us. With what exactly? What kind of help is being offered? What would we need to do or pay for it?"

Amelia sighed, concerned by what she was hearing. "I don't know what to tell you, Kid," she muttered. "Honestly, like I said they're the good guys, to a degree. But good people can do terrible things if they feel it's warranted or needed. The difference is the Unspeakables wouldn't feel guilty about doing terrible things if they felt it was necessary for the good of our world. Croaker has been trying to get me to join the Department for years and I always turn them down because of that. I don't trust them either. I trust that they don't want Voldemort coming back into power. I trust they would help to end him if and when he does. In the end, just do like I said, eyes open and guard up. If you don't like what the Director has to say, just walk away and be done with it."

She stood and placed one hand on his shoulder, leaning over to kiss the top of his head and when she stood up she wrinkled her nose.

"Ew, you're all sweaty, kid. If you boys are done out there you should jump in the shower."

Harry laughed at the expression on her face and stood as well. "Neville should be leaving soon, but Blaise said he wanted to talk to me about something. I'll check in with them, then go clean up. Think I'll finish up my Transfiguration homework after that."

"All right. I'll be in my office if any of you need anything."

"Thank's, Amy. I don't think I've said it much, but I really appreciate everything you've done. All the advice and help you've given me… it really means a lot."

Her smile was warm and genuine and she pulled him into a firm hug, sweaty or not. "Any time, kid. You're part of the family and family is the most important thing in the world."

#####

Blaise Zabini was many things, Harry had noted in the time since he'd met the other boy. He was clever, polite, respectful. He had a wry, wicked sense of humor and a quick, ready wit. He was calm, some might say aloof. One thing he'd never seen Blaise be, was pensive.

Until now.

After returning from his conversation with Amelia and the girls, Neville had bid his goodbyes, picked up his belongings and headed back to Longbottom Manor. The next few minutes were spent on clean up. Harry and Blaise collected the practice swords, inspected them for cracks or other damage, cleaned them, then put them away in the expanded case that Blaise used to carry his practice equipment.

The last twenty minutes had been spent with the two of them simply walking the grounds while Harry waited for Blaise to spit out whatever was on his mind.

While they walked, Harry let his own thoughts wander a bit. The upcoming meeting with Director Croaker concerned him a great deal, and had since Amelia had first mentioned it to them over the last Christmas break, just before their return to school. That the head of any Ministry Department, other than Amelia, wanted to meet with them was concerning enough, but the Head Unspeakable?

And then there was the fact that Croaker had indicated that he seemed to want to help them, somehow. Help them with what, exactly? What did he know, that they didn't? There was also the Hall of Prophecies that he'd read about, rumored to exist within the Department of Mysteries. Could they use this meeting to go around Dumbledore and get a listen to the prophecy that supposedly involved him and Volde-

"Harry, I wanted to ask you something."

Harry blinked, startled out of his thoughts and turned slightly to face his friend. In the last few months Blaise really had become a much closer friend and Harry was glad for all the work he'd been putting in, teaching him and Neville the sword and practicing with them on their spell practice. Blaise had contributed a great deal to their group, not to mention him being the only known person to ever kill a Dementor, and doing so with the Sword of Gryffindor. It had almost been amusing, for Harry, to see the quiet Slytherin subjected to the same amount of scrutiny and mutterings as he himself was for the remainder of the year whenever he walked the halls.

For a Slytherin to wield the Sword was unheard of, and Harry had revelled in not being the absolute center of attention for a change.

Noting the questioning look on Blaise's face he started and blinked again several times.

"Oh! Sorry, I kinda wandered there for a second. What was it you wanted?"

"Gotta watch that wool gathering, Potter," Blaise smirked. "You're too young to start acting like Dumbledore."

"Oi!"

The two of them laughed lightly for a moment before Blaise took a deep breath and straightened up in a familiar gesture that had Harry mentally groaning.

"'Lord Potter," he started before Harry cut him off.

"No," he said, waving both hands in front of him. "No, no, no. We're not doing any of this Lord crap, Blaise. We're friends. You have something to ask me, ask me. You don't need to pull out any formalities with me, you know that."

"I know, Harry, and I appreciate it, but in this case I really do need to address the Head of House Potter, not my friend, Harry."

That time Harry really did groan and slapped a hand over his face for a moment, ignoring the snickering sounds he could hear coming from Blaise's direction.

"Dammit, you're lucky we're friends, Zabini. Fine, go ahead."

Blaise smirked as Harry sighed and straightened up, looking expectantly at the dark skinned wizard.

"Lord Potter," he said again. "I would very much like to formally request your permission to escort Miss Luna Lovegood during the first Hogsmeade weekend of our upcoming school year."

Harry blinked, his jaw dropping open to stare at Blaise. He was standing straight with his shoulders back, hands at his sides, almost like a military attention, though perhaps a bit less stiff in his carriage. His dark eyes never looked away from Harry's and his face was an emotionless mask as he waited for a response.

When it came, Harry was proud of himself for the eloquence and articulation that he was able to convey despite his great shock.

"Huh?"

"I would very much like to-"

"I heard you, Blaise, I'm wondering what the hell you're doing asking me? Why are you talking to me at all? Shouldn't you be talking to Luna? Or her dad?"

"Miss Lovegood is under the Protection of House Potter. In the absence of her father, who is out of the country, last I heard, and… honestly even when he's physically present, I have heard that he isn't entirely 'present', no offense to Mister Lovegood meant in the slightest. I understand he took the death of his wife a few years ago very hard and hasn't been quite the same since. Considering these things, you, as her Protector, would be next for me to speak to regarding formal arrangements of courting."

Harry just shook his head and looked around quickly, noting part of the boundry wall that fenced in the manicured lawn, beyond which, the wild growth of the forest behind the property began and he gestured to the three foot high stone barrier as he walked over and took a seat.

When Blaise sat beside him, Harry turned so that he was straddling the wall and facing his friend.

"I'm dispensing with the formality crap, Blaise, since I need you to explain this to me. Remember, I'm still not up on all the little nuances involved in wizarding society and I'm trying to wrap my head around this right now. Just explain this to me in simple terms."

Blaise looked decidedly uncomfortable with that but he nodded and took a deep breath before speaking.

"I… I like Luna. She's a nice girl. A little strange, but she's fun, and she's funny from what I've seen of her. I'd like to get to know her better. I don't know if it'll go anywhere, really, but I wouldn't mind finding out."

Harry nodded, pleased to hear the sincerity in Blaise's voice. "Right, that's good. But what's with this asking me for permission? Shouldn't you be asking her?"

"Because that's how it's done among traditional purebloods, Harry. I'm not a snob, or a bigot, but I am pureblood, and I am proud of my heritage and our traditions. No, I don't like the laws that makes me ask you instead of Luna. I've heard you and Neville rant about them enough and I agree they need to be changed. Right now, though, the laws are still the laws, and tradition dictates I speak to Luna's Head of House. He's not available, and you're the next best thing as you have her under the protective banner of your House."

"So, how would this get brought up to Luna?" Harry asked.

"When I next see her, probably at your birthday party, if you give your permission, I will inform her that I will be escorting her to Hogsmeade and that I hope to ensure she has a pleasant time and that I hope we can get to know each other better. I have no other designs or goals."

"You'll inform her. You won't ask her if she wants to go?"

"If her Head of House-"

"And as you've already pointed out, Blaise, I am not her Head of House," Harry cut in firmly. "And even if I was, it's not my place to make decisions for her. The law might allow a Head of House to do such things, more specifically a male Head, since I'm sure those laws are skewed against women…"

Harry trailed off, his annoyed expression falling away into something thoughtful and after a minute he abruptly shot to his feet and moved a few feet away from the wall.

"Make your request, again," he demanded and Blaise quickly stood and faced him again.

"Lord Potter, I would very much like to formally request your permission to escort Miss Luna Lovegood during the first Hogsmeade weekend of our upcoming school year."

"Sorry, Heir Zabini. You do not have my permission to escort Miss Lovegood to Hogsmeade."

Blaise gaped at him for a moment before he opened his mouth, but whether he was going to protest or acquiesce was a moot point as Harry kept talking.

"You do not have my permission to escort her as I feel that I do not have the authority, or the right to grant you permission, as I've already stated. However, if your tradition requires permission for anything, you have my permission to ask her yourself, and the decision to accept or reject your invitation will be left to Miss Lovegood to decide on her own. I understand your traditions and your heritage are important to you, Heir Zabini, and I do not wish to insult them. However, if I have anything to say about it, the people in my House will be able to make their own decisions. I will not force my choices on them, especially not in matters like this.

"If Luna wants to go to Hogsmeade with you, she's welcome to, but the decision will be hers and no one else's."

Blaise closed his mouth with an audible snap and studied his friend closely for several long moments before nodding, a small smile curving the corners of his mouth.

"Thank you, Lord Potter. That is a more than acceptable compromise. With your permission, then, I will ask Miss Lovegood if she wishes to accompany me when I next see her at your birthday party?"

Harry grinned and nodded. "For that, you have not only my permission but my best wishes and good luck."

Blaise's smile grew and his posture suddenly relaxed, telling Harry the formal portion of the day was over.

"Thank you, Harry. Really, that was very clever of you to find a way to stick to the spirit of the tradition while circumventing it entirely at the same time."

Harry shrugged. "I try." He turned and started back toward the house in the distance as Blaise fell into step beside him. "Really, I understand how the wizarding world sticks to their traditions, but I still really don't understand a lot of them. Change isn't a bad thing. It can be scary, but fighting change just leads to stagnation and death. You see it in the animal kingdom all the time. Creatures that do not change, or adapt, die."

Blaise shrugged, unsure of what to say, so he remained silent.

It was a few minutes later before Harry decided to voice a question. "Blaise, do you mind if I ask why?"

Blaise gave him a questioning look. "What do you mean?"

"Why Luna? I mean… I don't want to pry, and it really is none of my business, but like you said, I'm her protector and I don't think you've ever showed the slightest interest in her before." Harry shrugged, stuffing his hands into his track pants pockets. "I don't know what it's like to be a big brother, no siblings. But I kind of see Luna as a little sister, as much as I think I can. I don't want to see her hurt. I don't think you'd ever do it on purpose but… am I making any sense at all here? I feel like I'm just rambling stupidly."

Blaise sighed, running a hand over his short cut hair in a resigned sort of way.

"No, you're making perfect sense. I understand. Honestly… well, I did something stupid."

And Harry was confused again.

"Wait, what does that have to do with Luna?"

" _Allegria_." Blaise murmured and Harry's confusion only grew.

"Alley-what?"

" _Allegria_ ," Blaise corrected, laughing. "It's an italian word that means 'Happiness' or 'Joy'."

"And…?"

"Well, it's something I've kinda taken to heart as a personal motto." Blaise had a look on his face that seemed equal parts deep thought and lost in his own memories. Like he was considering something from long ago, or maybe something in the future he hoped would happen. "People don't find happiness in life by accident, you know? You don't just stumble into it. It doesn't drop into your lap. You have to go out and find it. You have to work for it. Sometimes you have to fight for it or even bleed for it.

"Sometimes you'll get hurt worse trying to find it than if you'd done nothing. That is a lesson my mother has reinforced often over the years."

"Then why try if you're just going to get hurt?"

"Because not trying means you're not living your life, you're simply surviving it."

Harry considered that for a moment before deciding it made a certain sense and nodded his head. "Okay, what does that have to do with you doing something stupid?"

Blaise winced. "Umm… I… I kind of kissed Cedrella the first week we were back at school after the Christmas break."

Harry came to an abrupt stop, gaping open mouthed at the boy. "Wait… you kissed Tonks!" he blurted out and Blaise hissed, waving both hands at him frantically.

"Keep it down, will you?" he snapped. "You don't have to tell the whole world about it."

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, but… Tonks? Really?"

"I didn't _know_ she was an Auror six years older than me at the time. I thought she was a thirteen-year-old student, like us. She was pretty, and she was kind, and she was confident and knew how to handle herself."

"Is that why she said sorry to you the night the Dementors attacked? Neville mentioned, but she'd left the castle by then and I didn't want to pry. He thought it was a strange thing for her to say."

Blaise scowled and kicked at a rock. "Yeah. She shot me down. Nicely, but still. Told me it would never work but obviously she couldn't tell me _why_ since she was undercover. To me, that was an _Allegria_ moment. I took a chance and it hurt, but if I hadn't tried, I would never know, and I'd always wonder what if, maybe, I'd done something different. You know?"

Harry nodded, still a little wide eyed. "Yeah, I can imagine… Wait… you're not just trying to use Luna-"

"No! No, I would never do something like that, Harry! Why do you think I've waited five months to talk to you?" Blaise almost glared at him, but held back since he realized Harry was only trying to look out for Luna. "No, I've always liked Luna, well enough. She's a sweet girl, she really is. I'm not saying I'm in love with her, or anything. All I'm saying is, I think she's nice, and pleasant, and I wouldn't mind getting to know more about her. I don't know what might happen, but again, I'll never know if I don't give it a shot, right?"

Harry stared at Blaise for several moments. "I guess you're right," he finally conceded. "I don't fancy having to give you the shovel speech, though, so if things get at all serious, you'd better talk to her Dad."

"I'm not even going to ask what a shovel speech is," Blaise drawled, and as they returned to their walk, silence descended over them.

"You should consider it."

"Consider what, Blaise?"

" _Allegria_."

"What about it? I think I'm pretty happy."

Blaise gave him a sidelong look.

"What?"

"If you say so, Lord Potter."

"What's that mean? I am! I was just thinking earlier when I was on my run that life was going pretty good for me, lately. I don't think I've ever been as happy as I am right now."

"But you're not as happy as you could be."

"Now what's _that_ supposed to mean?" Harry snapped, starting to get annoyed.

"If you don't know, I'm not sure you'll believe my explanation. But just think on this. _Allegria_ means happiness. If you find something that makes you happy, you need to grab onto it. You need to throw yourself into it. You can't half-arse it. You can't just stick your feet in the water, you've got to jump in and risk drowning. You've got to risk getting burned."

They'd reached the patio behind the house and Blaise leaned down to pick up the case filled with practice swords, slinging the strap over one shoulder before he turned back to his friend with a sympathetic look in his eyes.

"Find what makes you happy. Then, ignore your fear. Ignore your doubts. Ignore that little voice in the back of your head that tells you it's a bad idea. Grab hold of whatever that is, and throw yourself fully into it. _That_ is _Allegria_."

With a wave over his shoulder he walked into the house, leaving Harry staring after him, both annoyed, and more than a little confused at the same time. An hour and a half later, Amelia found him sitting at one of the patio tables, still trying to puzzle out Blaise's meaning.

#####

Six days later, in the late evening, found the four bonded sitting at the kitchen table, deep in discussion. Harry looked to each of his girls, one after another. "So, we're in agreement? We're tired of Dumbledore saying our Occlumency isn't strong enough for us to know the prophecy, yet, so we'll ask Croaker if we can hear it?"

Over the course of the previous school year, the Headmaster had tested them every few weeks and always said they were improving, but they weren't quite good enough, yet, to trust with the wording of the prophecy.

"Absolutely," Daphne said. "The Headmaster has been dealing with us far more equally, but I'm not certain I completely trust him to be entirely truthful on this. He's been hiding this information for so long, and habits are hard to break."

Her eyes were narrowed in anger, but Harry wasn't entirely certain what she was angry about. The Headmaster's stubborn insistence on not sharing the wording of the prophecy with them, or the years of pain the old man had condemned Harry to when he placed him with the Dursleys.

After finding out in Second Year that Dumbledore had been Harry's magical guardian, Harry was fairly certain that Daphne had some plan in mind to exact some form of revenge on the aged wizard and only his continued help and efforts to make amends had stayed her hand, thus far. He was reasonably certain that, one more serious problem from Dumbledore, and nothing would stop her.

"The headmaster firmly believes that it is about you," Hermione said. "More to the point, so does Riddle. He believes you to be a threat and he won't stop until he eliminates that threat. We need to hear that Prophecy. The Professor has earned back a lot of trust, recently, but I think we would be better served to live by the adage, 'Trust, but verify'."

Harry nodded and stood from his seat at the table to refill his coffee mug. Outside, the stars were visible, spread across the velvet blackness of the sky and, for a moment, he wished he was preparing to go on his morning run, not planning for a meeting the next day that he really wasn't sure they wanted to have.

"The annoying thing is, I'm really not certain that I even want to know, anymore," he said, finally voicing a thought he'd never once actually spoken aloud. Inwardly he cringed but went about fixing his coffee with the same caution against spilling that he'd used his very first morning there. Even after two and a half years, he was still instinctively afraid to make any kind of mess whenever it was possible to avoid it.

The silence stretched out behind him while he finished and, when he turned, the girls were giving him nearly identical expectant looks, waiting for him to explain himself.

"We already know that Riddle believes it, and that Dumbledore does too," he said, nodding to Hermione in recognition of the point she'd made. "What does it really matter what the damn thing actually says? Riddle won't stop coming after me and Dumbledore won't stop pushing me into fulfilling his interpretation of it. Part of me wonder's, what's the point? I should just keep practicing, keep training, so that the next time Riddle and I meet, I'll know enough to kill him, or to at least survive, like I have been."

"But what if there's something in the wording that would help you know what to do?" Hermione asked.

"Or maybe it's not about you at all," was Susan's contribution.

"I know," he sighed, exasperated. "I didn't say we shouldn't find out, just… I wonder if it'll really matter, one way or the other, in the end."

Daphne stood and moved over to stand right in front of him. Reaching up, she grabbed him by the ears, and almost yanked his head down to her level, ignoring his startled yelp, so she could look him directly in the eyes.

"Knowledge is power, Potter," she almost growled. "The more we know, the more _you_ know, the better your chances of surviving to live your life. I love you, and I'm not about to let you waste any possible advantage that we might be able to get. I want you with us for a very long time, and if I have to, I will kick your bloody arse every day between now and the end of all this if that's what it takes to keep you looking at surviving to live that life, with us."

When she kissed him it was hard, harsh, almost punishing as she smashed her mouth against his and his protests turned into a few muffled muttering sounds against her lips.

When she let him go he practically reeled back until he was leaning against the counter again and reached up to gingerly rub at his ears.

"They're ears, not handles, you know?" he muttered and she stuck her tongue out at him as she sank back into her seat while Hermione and Susan both laughed at the two of them.

"Look, it's late," Hermione pointed out a minute later after looking to the clock hanging on the wall. "We should get to bed since tomorrow is going to be a pretty rough day, I would imagine."

Not feeling up to arguing, they made their way upstairs and Harry gave each girl a gentle kiss goodnight before heading into his room, closing the door behind him. He changed into a pair of pajama pants and, deciding to forgo a shirt, he dropped into his bed and quickly fell into a fitful, restless sleep.


	45. Of Prophecies, Oracles and Breakfast?

**Author's Notes: So, here we go, gang, The Rotten Writer returning with the second chapter of our bonded's summer holiday before the fit hits the shan with their upcoming fourth year at school.**

 **We've got some more set up going on, getting us to the next big event next chapter leading into the start of the school year. I'm really looking forward to this year but I want to take this opportunity to warn people now… this is where this story is really going to start earning its M rating. This is where things start getting darker, a lot darker in some areas. And the bonded and their friends are growing up so things are going to progress to a little more adult material. Not dramatically so, they're still young, but they're 14 and 15, hormones be out of control at that age, people. I hope this doesn't turn anyone away but there was a reason I changed this from a T to an M rating a while back.**

 **As I stated before, this will be the last year that sticks closer to the major canon plot points, but even in that I'm making some decent changes, I believe, with the original material. I look forward to seeing what you guys think of what I plan on doing and hope that I can bring an interesting and entertaining story to the table. This is a nice easy chapter with a bit of foreshadowing, but next chapter? Strap yourselves in, ladies and gentlemen, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing but the original portions of my plot and any original characters that I create within this story.**

 **Here's chapter 44 of Soul Scars. Enjoy.**

Soul Scars Part Four

Allegria

By,

Rtnwriter

Director Croaker waited at the bottom of the stairs for Lord Potter and his party to arrive. His mind churned as he waited, still debating just how much to divulge to the powerful young Lord of House Potter. For a child not quite fourteen years of age, Potter already had quite the impressive resumé, and if his estimations were correct, the list of that boy's accomplishments would only continue to grow as time went on.

"He would make an incredible ally," Sable commented from their position to Croakers right side, once again giving the Director the impression that his old friend could read his mind.

"Or a terrible enemy. The Hydra… if I'm right, they deserve to know. But we still don't have the whole thing and what we do have would just worry them."

"As you have said, though, nothing they do will make any difference, since an Oracle foretelling is not the same as prophecy. We also do, now, have more than we did, and the newest piece is more encouraging."

Croaker scoffed. "If you find blood and death encouraging."

Sable shrugged. "At least it doesn't seem to indicate their blood and death."

Croaker hummed, but said nothing as the sound of footsteps reached his ears. In less than a minute, five figures came into view. Potter was in the lead, dressed head to toe in black, with his three bond mates following a step behind him and Director Bones bringing up the rear of the group.

"Director Bones," Croaker greeted her. "It's nice to see you again."

"I'll take your word for it," she muttered and he grinned, unseen by anyone within the charmed confines of his hood.

"Misses Granger and Bones, Lady Greengrass, Lord Potter," he said to the rest of them and only Harry nodded his head to actually acknowledge the greeting.

"Why is it that you wanted to meet with us, Director?" Harry asked without preamble, studying the two cloaked figures intently.

"You, Lord Potter. All four of you, to be sure, but you, in particular, are of significant importance to the wizarding world." Croaker admitted. "I would prefer not to say more out here, however. If you'll follow me, we have a conference room already prepared."

"No."

Croaker was already in the midst of turning to lead the group into the Department,, proper, when the single word, spoken in a forceful tone, reached his ears. He stopped and turned back.

"No?" he asked, eyeing the darkly dressed Lord Potter carefully.

"No. Amelia tells me you're offering to help us," Harry said, his glowing eyes fixed on the dark shadows within Croaker's hood.

"Indeed we are, Lord Potter, hence why I wished to meet with you all today."

"That is a fairly vague statement, with a significant number of possible meanings," said Miss Granger, moving around to stand at Potter's right shoulder. "What is it you think the Department of Mysteries can offer that the DMLE couldn't? What is it you think we even need help with?"

"I would very much prefer not to say out here in the hall. Though your caution is understandable and commendable, I assure you that we are not your enemies."

"We'll go to this meeting you want, and we'll listen to your spiel under one condition," Lady Greengrass spoke up, moving to stand on Potter's left side as Miss Bones moved to stand to her left as well.

"And what would that be?"

"We want you to take us to the Hall of Prophecies to retrieve the one that is supposedly about Harry," Miss Bones said.

"Help us retrieve that, and we'll listen. But I don't promise anything more than that."

Croaker looked again into the glowing pools of green that were the Lord Potter's eyes and he nodded. It was something he'd hoped to do anyway while he had them here. Dumbledore was definitely on the side of the Light. But Croaker didn't trust the old man to give honest answers if he felt the information was better kept hidden. Croaker did not have that same belief. The Department of Mysteries worked in secret with the most stringent Oaths and rules regarding the secrecy of what they did. But as Director, it was his prerogative what information they released, to whom, and why.

"Of course. I would be happy to help you in this manner. If you'll follow me?"

At their nod, he turned and started to lead the way to the Hall with Sable falling into step beside him and the five visitors falling in behind. It was definitely going to be an interesting meeting.

#####

"That… was a _lot_ of prophecies," Harry muttered some time later as they took their seats at a table easily capable of seating ten in a nondescript, undecorated conference room somewhere within the labyrinthine corridors of the Department.

"Why are there so many?" Susan asked.

"The problem with prophecy, is that they're about something that _could_ happen. Not will, or even should. Many of those prophecies were given a very long time ago. Some are about people that haven't even been born yet, most likely. With others, the people involved probably died long ago without the prophecy ever becoming active."

"Active?" Harry looked up at that, his interest captured. "What does that mean?"

"Prophecies are naught but words, Lord Potter, until some action is taken. Either someone acting to fulfill or prevent the prophecy from occuring. Until that happens, nothing is set in stone, but once it does, then the prophecy becomes active and the events take their place within the timeline. Technically, before a prophecy becomes active it's events do not exist, not within the actual fabric of our reality. There is always the possibility of something else happening that would stop whatever triggering event causes the prophecy to become active. If you'd like, tap that sphere you're holding with your wand and give it a listen, I will then be able to point out the triggering event that caused it to become active."

Harry eyed Croaker for a moment where he sat across the table from him, Sable next to them before he turned his attention to the glowing orb that he clutched tightly in one hand. The Hall of Prophecies had been huge, much larger than Harry had expected it to be with thousands upon thousands of glowing spheres sitting neatly on carefully labeled shelves. The sheer number of them had been absolutely staggering. Harry wasn't certain how the massive room was even able to exist beneath the streets of London but he, rightly, assumed that magic was involved.

He turned to look at his girls, and then to Amelia as, one by one, they each nodded to him. Taking a deep breath, he flicked his wrist, catching his wand blank as it shot out into his hand and then set the orb down, in it's stand, on the smoothly polished surface of the table.

"Lord Potter?" Croaker interrupted before he could tap the orb.

He looked up, but said nothing, letting the questioning expression on his face speak for him.

"We know that you no longer need a wand, Lord Potter. I appreciate your wish to keep that a secret, but such things are not easily hidden from us, especially with you being such an important figure. I assure you, we have no ill will toward you, I just wanted you to know you did not have to pretend, here."

"I would like to know how it is that you know that," Harry snapped, not quite glaring at the two cloaked figures.

"We have a large information network, Lord Potter," Sable offered. "It is kind of part of what we do around here. Attempting to keep track of unusual occurrences, strange phenomena, and so on. When the Department learned of the Soul Bond between the four of you, that had us taking a rather keen interest, so we kept an eye out on the goings on around the school. It wasn't difficult to learn what happened in the Chamber, and we extrapolated, based on the injuries you sustained, that wandless ability was a possible outcome."

"Admitting to spying on me doesn't exactly make me want to trust anything you people say," Harry pointed out.

"If we were spying, that would be true. However, you cannot fault us for wanting to gather information about something strange before approaching. Investigation and examination go hand in hand," Croaker pointed out. "We'll try to answer all your questions, but back to the part of the prophecy, if you please," he added, gesturing to the orb with one gloved hand.

Scowling, Harry held back a few choice comments and simply tapped the orb with one forefinger, drawing on his magic as he did so. A moment later, a silver mist rose above the orb, as if seeping through the smoothly curved surface, quickly resolving into a small, but very detailed image of a woman sitting in an old, battered looking armchair. She wore the thickest pair of glasses Harry had ever seen and appeared to have several shawls draped across her shoulders.

"Professor Trelawney!?" Hermione blurted out, gaping at the image in shocked recognition. Before Harry could question her, his attention was pulled back to the image as she began to speak in an unnaturally deep and raspy voice.

 _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approached… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal, but he will have a power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…_

As the voice trailed off, the mist receded silently back into the orb and they stared at it for several moments before the explosion came.

"Are you completely out of your mind?" Hermione almost bellowed, leaping out of her chair as if a spring had launched her from it. "That woman is-is a quack! She's a fraud! She's a misty headed twit that wants people to worship her amazing power when she doesn't have any!"

Her bond mates stared, wide eyed as, for the first time, Hermione Granger verbally lambasted a teacher.

"It doesn't matter."

Croaker's magically concealed voice cut her off as efficiently as a guillotine might have.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, tugging Hermione gently back into her seat, letting the girl seethe and stew for a while longer as he attempted to keep the discussion moving.

"Sybil Trelawney, likely is everything that Miss Granger claimed her to be, but that doesn't matter. This is a real prophecy, otherwise it wouldn't have appeared here on the shelf when she gave it. She has some minor Seer ability, but a true Seer can't control when he or she receives a vision, can't control when they give a prophecy, and they can't remember it afterwards either. But you were asking about the difference between an active prophecy and triggering events, so if I could explain?"

Hermione tightly clamped her lips shut, her eyes narrowed angrily, nostrils flaring as she breathed heavily through her nose and Harry laid a comforting hand on her back, attempting to soothe her, at least a little.

"Please, continue," he said, gesturing to the Director and Croaker nodded, the hood of their cloak shifting to indicate the motion.

"Before a triggering event takes place, the prophecy has a chance that it will never become active, but as soon as that event occurs, the events of the prophecy itself become set in motion, and nothing can stop it from happening after that point. Ironically, it is frequently a person's attempt to stop a prophecy from coming into fruition that ends up being the triggering event for it, such as what happened here.

"From what we have been able to determine, a Death Eater heard part of the prophecy while it was first being recited to Albus Dumbledore himself before the spy was discovered and removed from the area. He took that information, likely only the first two lines: ' _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…'_

"That information was then taken to Voldemort. He chose a target and attacked you and your family. And that was the triggering event for this particular prophecy. The next line where it stated that the Dark Lord would mark him as his equal… that is what happened when he attempted to kill you that night and instead left you with that scar on your forehead, Lord Potter. That is the mark he left on you. If he hadn't attempted to get around the prophecy by trying to kill you before you had a chance to grow up and threaten him you might never have been in a position to be any real threat to him at all."

"So he created a self fulfilling prophecy. Every action he takes to attempt to circumvent or escape it merely causes what he's trying to avoid in the first place."

"Precisely," Croaker said, sounding mildly impressed and Harry quirked a grin at the cloaked Unspeakable.

"I read a lot of fantasy novels, Director. Prophecy, destiny, fate. These are frequently used concepts in a lot of stories and, fictional though they might be, there's a lot of nuggets of wisdom and truth in there if you know how to look."

"Hmmm… I'll have to get a research team on looking into those. You never know what might be out there," Croaker mused. "Anyway, may we assume that we can all agree this very strongly points toward Voldemort and Lord Potter?"

They reluctantly nodded. "It makes a lot of sense," Hermione admitted. "I can still see a lot of ways how it could point to someone other than Harry, possibly, but on the surface this all looks pretty straightforward."

"But it doesn't say who will win, just that one will have to die," Daphne pointed out. "That's good news, isn't it? It means that Harry has a real chance to beat him?"

"We believe so, Lady Greengrass, and we are willing to offer help, when we can. How that help might present itself, we're not entirely certain at the moment. Unfortunately we cannot operate in the open, that is a precept of the Department. Right now, I believe the best way the Department can assist you is through information and to do so we'd like to ask you to share the experiences you've had with Tom Riddle."

"Don't you already know? What with your large information network?"

"We know what happened, yes," Sable said. "But we'd like to hear it from you. The incident in your first year and in the Chamber in your second."

"Maybe I should just write a book," Harry muttered. "Then, when someone asks me to tell a story for the hundredth bloody time I can just hand them a copy and be on my way."

"Harry-"

"Language, I know, Hermione, I know." Harry sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Well, make yourselves comfortable," he said. "We're going to be here for a while."

With the girl's help, and Amelia chiming in herself, on occasion, they went over their first two years at school, again. Sable and Croaker listened intently, pausing the retelling to ask a number of questions. Harry noted that they seemed particularly keen on his description of Voldemort sticking out of the back of Quirrell's head as well as Amelia's explanation of the vaporous cloud Kingsley had described to her. She hadn't seen it herself as she'd been in the midst of running through the black curtain of flames into the chamber with the Mirror of Erised. Harry did not describe what he saw in the mirror when he'd looked into it other than the part about his reflection putting the Stone into his pocket.

They were also extremely curious about the diary, how it behaved, what it was doing to Luna, and the shade of Riddle as well. Daphne had quite a bit to say during that portion of the retelling.

"So you didn't see the shade's destruction yourself, Lord Potter?" Croaker asked as the story was winding down.

"No, I was barely conscious and I was looking at the diary as I stabbed it with the fang I'd pulled from my arm. I lost consciousness only seconds after that as well." He glanced over at Daphne, realizing that she'd never actually described what she saw at that moment in his hearing before, a curious expression on his face.

"It wasn't pretty," she whispered, her arms wrapped around herself. Susan moved closer to her and set a hand on her back as the blond leaned into her, her eyes distant. "When Harry stabbed the diary, Riddle staggered, almost like he'd been stabbed himself. He… he started screaming, and the diary was screaming too. These cracks started appearing across his body and a bright white light poured out. His back was to me, so I couldn't see his face but his body… well, his form, since he didn't really have a body, yet, was… twisting and contorting.

"It looked like he was in agony. The cracks kept spreading and spreading and eventually he just… exploded. He shattered into these wisps of light that all faded away after a few seconds. A moment later the sticking charm that was holding me to the wall broke and I fell to the ground. I ran over to Harry and turned him onto his back just as he passed out."

"What about Miss Lovegood?" Croaker asked, gently. "Did she revive immediately or did it take some time?"

"I'm… I'm not entirely certain. I was distracted, trying to check on Harry, but… I think she started moving the second that Riddle vanished."

"The cloud that Kingsley saw in their first year also rose from the diary as Harry was stabbing it," Amelia cut in. "I saw that in the memory that Daphne and Harry both submitted to us in the Hospital Wing after he woke."

Croaker and Sable glanced toward each other, silently, as some communication seemed to pass between them.

"Thank you, very much, for telling us. I understand these can't be pleasant memories for any of you, but it's very important that we understand as much as we can about our enemy."

"Did you get anything helpful from that, at least?" Susan asked, her arms now wrapped around Daphne.

"We did, Miss Bones. It gives us an idea, at least, as to how Riddle survived that Halloween night back in '81. Not a confirmation, by any means, but an idea."

"Are you going to share this idea?"

"I would hesitate to do so, Lord Potter, until we know for sure. If Riddle did what my first guess tells me he did… well, it is by far some of the darkest, foulest magic ever. There hasn't been any sign of Riddle since his diary was destroyed. The fact that the prophecy is still active tells us he's not dead, but if that's true, then he's far more insane, and far more dangerous than we thought. Which is saying something."

Harry opened his mouth, his brow furrowed in an angry scowl but Sable spoke up, quickly cutting him off before he could start.

"Please, Lord Potter. We aren't withholding information. We just want to try to confirm, somehow, our guess. This is not something that we would tell anyone without extremely good reason, and if we're wrong, we'd rather not disturb you with the details until we have confirmation. It would help if we could examine the diary itself."

"Can't you just write to the Headmaster? He has it as far as I know," Harry informed them, not pleased to be kept in the dark, yet again.

Croaker shrugged. "I probably will, Lord Potter. I can't be certain how helpful he might be, he trusts us as little as we trust him. But he might be willing to work with us against a common foe such as Tom Riddle. We will do our utmost to investigate and we'll keep in contact with you on our findings. We might be of significant help in the future if this is what I think it is, but it will take time and investigation. I hope you can understand that and be patient with us. These things do not happen quickly, as much as we might like them too."

The bonded shared a quick look before they nodded, very nearly in unison. Actually, the girls were in unison, only Harry was slightly off beat from the other four, something Croaker noted curiously.

"Then I think this meeting is very nearly at an end."

"What are we going to do with that?" Harry asked, pointing to the glowing prophecy sphere where it say, innocently, on its stand.

"Keep it. Destroy it. Whatever you wish. We have no need for it here, and destroying it may help to keep it out of Riddle's hands in the future. If and when he returns, he will likely make finding out the full wording of that prophecy one of his top priorities."

Harry reached out and picked up the orb, studying it carefully for several long seconds before he stuffed it into one of his robes pockets.

"I had one last thing that I wanted to say before you leave," Croaker said, reaching into their cloak to withdraw a slim scroll of parchment. "This is what we have been able to find about an Oracle foretelling. An extremely old one, we have discovered. At first, I thought it was something more recent, I had a memory of it that I couldn't entirely explain. As we've dug into it, it appears that it goes back much further than I originally believed. I've been calling it the Oracle of the Hydra, though to be fair it has no proper name." They held the scroll out across the table, offering it to Amelia, who hesitated a moment in surprise before she took it in hand.

"I believe that it pertains to the four of you," they said, nodding to the bonded. "But knowing the words of an Oracle when you are a subject of it… that is an incredibly heavy burden, one that I wouldn't wish on anyone. That copy is incomplete, missing a portion from the end. How much is missing, we do not know, but we are still searching the archives, looking for the entire thing. Unlike a prophecy, the foretelling of an Oracle is not something that may, or may not, come to pass. It is fact, if with some slightly romantic or metaphorical language. Its interpretation is much simpler than that of prophecy.

"It might be best to let Madam Bones read that and let her decide if she agrees that it is about you, and if she thinks you should know. If you trust her to make that kind of decision for you."

"I think we can live with that," Harry informed them after the four had a brief, hushed, conversation and Amelia tucked the scroll into her robes to look at later.

"Then I believe we're done here. I swear to you, Lord Potter, we will look into our leads and contact you for another meeting as soon as we know anything. We do not want Riddle coming back into power any more than you do so your success is as much our priority as it is yours."

"Thank you, Director Croaker," Daphne said as they stood, "but I very much doubt his success is anywhere near as much of a priority to you as it is to us."

#####

The fireplace in the Floo Access Room at the Boneyard flared up as one after another five figures came through. Hermione, Susan, then Daphne all stepped out and quickly moved to the side, small smiles on their lips as the fire flared a fourth time and Harry came staggering out, stumbling several times before gravity won out over balance and he fell to the floor, rolling several times in a tangle of arms legs and sword scabbard.

"Ouch," he groaned as Amelia stepped through and a loud barking laugh echoed through the room.

The looked up, Harry still groaning as he picked himself up off the floor to find Sirius sitting on the sofa across the room where Harry and Susan had once landed back in their first year. The former convict had collapsed onto his side on the sofa, laughing loudly and Harry growled under his breath, stomping over to shove Sirius off the sofa and onto the floor where he continued to laugh for a few moments longer.

By the time he stopped, he was gasping for breath, red in the face, and had tears in his eyes as he looked up at his Godson from his new spot on the floor.

"Just like your dad, Pup," he gasped out. "Old James never did get a handle on Floo travel either, no matter how much we all tried to help him."

Harry glared at the man for a moment before it broke into a small smile and he reached out to help Sirius to his feet. As soon as the old Marauder had his legs under him he pulled his Godson into a brief hug, patting Harry on the back several times before he pulled back and held the boy out at arm's length, looking him up and down.

"You're looking good, Pup. Amelia's definitely been feeding you right."

"She's been taking really good care of me," Harry told him.

"When you're not trying to get yourself killed," Amelia cut in, glaring half-heartedly at her ward who only gave her a sheepish grin in return.

"It's not my fault," he insisted, and Sirius laughed again.

"So, they finally let you out of St. Mungo's?" Harry asked as they started through the house toward the kitchen.

Sirius grimaced, his face twisting into a distasteful expression.

"Yeah, bloody healers had me there for months repairing the damage from my little island vacation. But," he stepped away and held his arms out to his sides, turning in a circle so they could see all sides of him, "the results were definitely worth it, however much I was bored to tears and wanted to escape."

Truer words had likely never been spoken, in Harry's opinion. The emaciated figure of his Godfather was no more and he once again more closely resembled the photo in the Quibbler article from his days as an Auror, if perhaps not as solid as he was then. He'd put on a considerable amount of weight. His eyes no longer had the sunken appearance nor did he have the waxy complexion and his hair, once matted and filthy and reaching past his elbows was clean and had been cut so that it reached just past his shoulders. Sirius currently had it tied back into a tail at the nape of his neck.

He looked healthy, if a bit pale, still, and he looked happy. If one looked close, however, one could still see a slightly haunted look in his dark eyes. Something that would probably never go away, if truth be told. The long term effects of the Dementors would haunt the man for the rest of his life, but he appeared to be making great strides in his recovery, and that was good news to Harry.

"Should I wonder why you were sitting here waiting for us, Black?" Amelia asked as they settled around the table, tea and coffee appearing with a quiet pop.

"Well they let me out last week, and I've been in meeting's since with the Ministry and trying to get my family home liveable." He pulled another face. "Awful place, really, but I don't have anywhere else to go right now, really, and the house needed a lot of work as it's been abandoned since delightful mother passed away a few years back." The sarcasm in his voice when he said 'delightful' was extremely evident and the teens exchanged a look but no one asked the obvious question.

"So what happened with all the meetings?" Hermione asked.

Sirius' face broke out into a broad grin. "Well… aside from the compensation promised for my time abroad, the Minister also saw fit to throw in a little gift." He turned his attention to Harry. "From what I hear, you're seeker on the Gryffindor team, right?" he asked, and Harry nodded, setting the salt shaker aside after adding his usual pinch to his coffee.

"Yeah, made the team in my first year, actually."

Sirius blinked at that. "First year? Really?"

"Youngest Seeker in a century," Harry told him proudly and all three girls rolled their eyes. They knew Harry loved the game, and Susan was a Quidditch fan, but they did not love how often their bond mate wound up injured because of it.

"We'll have to discuss how that happened later, Pup. For now, I hope you guys keep the first weekend in August free because we have tickets to sit in the top box at this years Quidditch World Cup. Old Fudge was extremely apologetic for what happened, and I'm willing to bet he's hoping to get some good publicity by having us in the box with him. It's definitely a political move but… top box seats at the World Cup! I couldn't really turn those down, now could I?"

"Yes," all three girls said in a monotone unison that had Harry and Sirius gaping at them in abject horror.

"Bite your tongues, girls," Sirius burst out. "Them's fighting words right there."

"I'm pretty sure they'd mop the floor with you, Padfoot," Harry snickered and then ducked as Sirius threw a sugar cube at him.

"I'll have you know I was a top Auror in my day, Pup," Sirius shot at him in an aggrieved tone.

"How long ago was that, old man?"

"Old?! Pup! Get back here…"

Before Sirius had even started speaking Harry was already out of his seat and bolting for the back door. Seconds later a large black dog bounded after him, barking excitedly as both vanished outside.

Hermione, Daphne, and Susan sighed and exchanged a look before they stood, collecting their tea as they went.

"We'll keep an eye on them," Hermione offered in a long suffering tone of voice and Amelia smiled, waving them on as she finished her tea before she headed upstairs to her office.

Stepping in, she closed the door behind her, and moved over to a cabinet standing behind her desk. Opening the door, she retrieved a glass and a half empty bottle of Ogden's from within. Something told her she was going to want a drink at hand when she read the scroll tucked securely into her robes inner pocket.

Sitting down at her desk she poured three fingers into the glass and set the bottle firmly aside before she pulled out the scroll, unrolled it, and laid it out flat on her desk.

 _The Hydra will rise_

 _Four strong and immortal_

 _Scarred and broken, the sword will fight_

 _Scarred and determined, knowledge will save_

 _Scarred and damaged, the shield will protect_

 _Scarred and loyal, the faithful will heal_

 _The sword will break_

 _Knowledge will fall_

 _The shield will shatter_

 _The faithful will suffer_

 _Death will come for The Head_

 _Bonds of the soul will revive_

 _As the Foe returns, The Hydra must choose_

"Son of a bitch," she swore as she reached the end. Reaching out she grasped the glass and downed it's contents before placing it on the corner of her desk and she rose to put the bottle back in the cabinet, locking it after closing the door before she returned to her desk and pulled out ink, quill, and parchment as she started breaking down the words.

"The Hydra must refer to the four of them what with 'four strong' but immortal?" She shook her head. "Harry died and returned to life, that's gotta be what it's referring to but… how did that happen? Harry can't honestly be immortal, that kind of magic is…" She stopped and shuddered. Only the Sorcerer's Stone had ever offered anything close to immortality, and even then it wasn't true immortality. Longevity was the best description. Someone with the elixir could still be killed, so the public information told. It supposedly kept the Flamel's young long past when they should have died of old age but wasn't said to grant any type of true immortality.

"Or did it?" she wondered aloud. "Not like that's something Nicholas would want to advertise. It was already sought after as it was just for the elixir and the ability to create as much gold as one could want. Harry didn't encounter any of the elixir itself, though, only the stone. So that couldn't explain why he survived, or revived." Her eyes moved to the bottom of the page. "'Bonds of the soul will revive'," she muttered. "Could it be their bond that saved him? How?"

She let out a frustrated sigh and moved back to the top.

"The sword, knowledge, shield, and faithful… Harry, Hermione, Daphne, and Susan. That fits them to a tee. Harry, always the first to jump into the fray. Hermione with her memory and love of knowledge and information. Daphne can be just as fiercely protective as any of them. And, hell, Susan." She thought back to when Susan talked to her about the night that she and Daphne admitted the loved each other. "Daphne said she was loyal and faithful. She wanted to reward that faith. Dammit, that really is Susan. Loyal and faithful."

For the next hour she scratched out pages of notes, studying the text and occasionally throwing glances at the liquor cabinet behind her but she kept it firmly locked, focusing her attention on the words in front of her. Finally, a knock came at her door and she looked up for a moment before hiding the parchment beneath some work papers and called out, "Come ahead."

The door opened, revealing Sirius standing their, one hand on the knob and a questioning look in his eyes.

"Everything alright, Amy?" he asked, coming into the room.

She let out a long sigh and leaned back in her chair for a moment, eyes fixed on her desk before she looked up at him.

"Close the door Sirius and come sit down. You're going to want to hear this."

#####

The house was obviously old and poorly cared for. Sheets covered much of the furniture though a couch and an armchair had been uncovered and a fire burned merrily in the large fireplace that stood on one wall. One tall, broad shouldered figure stood behind the armchair and just to the right of it, hands clasped together behind his back, his shoulder length black hair tied loosely back.

"Has my loyal follower completed the task I set to him?" a high, eerie voice asked from the armchair and the standing figure nodded.

"Yes, my Lord. I received a message from him while you were resting this evening. He says that he managed to hide approximately two hundred of them around the grounds. The information you extracted from Bertha, coupled with what I was able to bring you proved to be precisely what he needed to accomplish the task."

"Was there any doubt?" came that high voice again and the figure shook his head.

"No, my Lord."

"Yes, poor Bertha Jorkins. I did quite have to destroy her mind before I was able to recover the information that had been hidden from her, but oh, the fruit born from that effort. This year will mark my triumphant return, once I have the boy."

"It is only too bad that she wasn't of any further use to you afterward, my Lord. She could have been ideally placed to execute your plans."

"You will be sufficient for the purposes I require."

"As you say, my Lord."

"Did you properly dispose of her body?"

"Yes, my Lord. She will never be found."

"Good. After the festivities, that is when the real festivities will begin. For too long have people rested on their laurels in the peace my absence has caused these last thirteen years. It is time I remind them what real terror means."

Behind the figure, a door slid open a couple of feet and a large snake, easily twelve feet long and as big around as a man slithered into the room, a loud hissing escaping it as it moved over and coiled up on the floor next to the chair.

"Nagini has interesting news," the cold voice said.

"My Lord?"

"Yes, indeed," said the voice from the chair. "According to my lovely Nagini, there is an old Muggle standing right outside this room, listening to every word we say."

The figure didn't hesitate, he turned and strode quickly across the room, yanking the door open to show an elderly man holding a cane in one sweaty hand standing right outside the door.

"Invite him inside. Where are your manners?"

Reaching out, the figure grabbed the old man by the shoulder of his worn jacket and yanked him into the room. The old man stumbled, wincing as he favored his left leg, struggling to keep his balance from the rough treatment he was receiving.

Where the two eventually stood, the old man couldn't see the owner of the voice sitting in the chair before the fire. The snake, on the other hand, had moved and was curled up on the rotting hearth rug, like some horrible travesty of a pet dog sitting at its Master's feet.

The figure backed away from the old man and, though visibly shaken, the man tightened his grip on his cane and straightened up to his full, if slightly stooped, height.

"You heard everything, I assume, muggle?"

"What's that you're calling me?" the man said in a reedy voice, glaring ineffectually at the back of the ancient armchair.

"Muggle," said the voice softly. "It means that you are not a wizard."

"Don't know nothin' about those magic acts," he said, his voice growing steadier. "All I know is I've heard enough to interest the police tonight. Murder. Planning something that sounds like a terrorist attack. My wife knows I'm up here, so if I don't come back she'll-"

"You have no wife," said the cold voice. "Nobody knows you are here. You told no one that you were coming. You cannot possibly lie to Lord Voldemort, muggle. I always know."

"Is that right?" the old man said, taking a step forward, anger filling his voice. "Lord is it? I have to say, I don't think much of your manners, _my Lord_. Turn 'round and face me like a man, or do you just have this bloke do everything for you like some great pansy?"

"But I am not a man. Not a man at all as I am so much more than that. However… why not? I will face you… Cyril, come turn my chair around."

The figure moved forward and grasped the chair, carefully spinning it in place and in moments the chair was facing the old man who stumbled back a few steps, a look of horror on his face as his cane fell to the floor with a loud clattering sound that echoed throughout the room. His mouth opened and a scream echoed up from somewhere deep inside him at what he beheld. He was screaming so loudly that he never heard the words spoken by the twisted thing resting on the tattered, rotting cushion as it raised a wand in his direction.

There was a flash of green light, a rushing sound, and the old man fell, dead before he hit the floor as a high eerie laugh rang out loudly around them.

Two hundred miles away, Harry Potter jerked awake with a start.

#####

One morning, a week to the day after Harry's 14th birthday, the door to his room was flung open at a quarter to five in the morning and three exuberant girls bounded through the portal.

"HAPPY ANNIV…" The cheerful shout from three different voices trailed off as they found the room empty. It didn't even appear that his bed had been slept in.

"Where is he?" Susan wondered aloud.

"Isn't it too early, for him to be out on his run?" Daphne asked.

"I thought so. Where do you think he might be, Aunt Amy?"

Amelia poked her head in from the hall at the sound of Hermione's question. "Well," she mused, blue eyes scanning the room that was entirely too neat and tidy for a teenage boy, "what's the one room in the house that Harry seems to spend the most of his waking hours in?" she asked.

The three girls thought about that for a moment before, as one, they came up with the only possible answer.

"Kitchen," they said in near unison.

"Let's go check."

The four of them made their way through the house, still in their night clothes and slippers, and slid into the kitchen in a great clatter of pounding feet and chattering voices.

"Harry!" Hermione called when they spotted him sitting at the table in the kitchen. He was dressed in a simple pair of black sweat pants and a black short sleeved t-shirt.

"Morning everyone," he said, absently. He didn't really seem like he had seen them. The girls glanced at each other, wondering at his strange behavior but he had his shields firmly in place and nothing bled over to them through their bond. He had both hands wrapped around a large ceramic coffee mug as he stared absently at the wall across from him. Daphne idly noted that it was the Triumph Bonneville mug that she'd given him on his first day officially living at Bones manor with Amelia as his guardian. A 'welcome home' gift. He looked relaxed but the expression on his face said clearly that he wasn't entirely in the room with them.

"Harry?" Daphne slid into a seat next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. She frowned as a glimmer of what he felt bled through their bond at the physical contact. Fear. Worry. Confusion.

He jumped, as if startled by her presence and those emotions suddenly vanished as he shoved them aside, focusing his attention on Amelia and his bond mates instead of whatever was bothering him. "Oh, hey!" Harry smiled, brightly. "I didn't notice you guys coming in."

"Yeah, you were off in your own little world again," Susan pointed out.

"What's wrong?" Daphne asked, frowning in concern and he offered her a small smile as he shook his head.

"Just a bad dream. A really weird, bad dream."

"Did you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked, moving closer to the table.

"No. No, I really just want to forget about this one it was…" He trailed off for a moment and a shudder ran through him. "It was just… unpleasant." He drained his cup and leaned back, looking over at them. "What's everyone doing up so early?"

"It's your Anniversary," Susan said, cutting Hermione off before she could push him.

He blinked and glanced at the calendar hanging by the back door for a moment before a broad smile broke out on his face.

"Happy Anniversary, Harry," Amelia said, leaning over to hug the young boy from behind as the girls each leaned in to kiss his cheek and offer their own greetings.

"Two years ago, today," he said his smile growing even broader, sheer joy bleeding through their link to fill the girls. "I still can't wrap my brain around people actually wanting me." He lifted one hand, placing it on the one Amelia was resting on his shoulder and squeezed it briefly.

"Any plans for the day?" he asked, and rose from his seat to refill his mug.

"Nothing in particular. We just wanted to spend time with you, our family, together. Tomorrow is the World Cup, so today should be a calm, relaxing day."

"A quiet day at home?" He took a sip of his coffee and grinned. "Sounds perfect to me."

He came over to the table and gently kissed each girls cheek, pulling Amelia into a real hug for a moment, before he went back to the counter that ran along one wall and turned, leaning his back against it with his mug of coffee held in one hand as he watched them, something glimmering in his eyes that they couldn't quite identify.

"Harry?" Susan asked after several minutes of companionable silence.

"Hmmm?" he hummed, questioningly, lowering the mug from his lips.

"I was just curious, but, why do you spend so much time in the kitchen?"

He blinked, surprise running through him. His eyes lifted to the ceiling as he thought back over his time at the Boneyard. Did he really spend that much time in the kitchen? He realized, with some surprise, that he did. He did most of his summer homework at the table, sat and enjoyed a cup of tea or his coffee and just thought about the world around him and the people that had entered into his life since he returned to the wizarding world. Most of the conversations he'd had with Amy took place at the kitchen table over a cup as well.

With Fourth year looming ahead of them and who knew what adventures awaiting, he knew that the quiet peace of the kitchen had only become more important to him that summer than it had ever been before. Especially with the strange dream he'd had the night before. He shook his head a moment later, trying to dispel the disturbing images he'd seen.

They were all watching him in silence, letting him work through his thoughts, knowing that he would either speak, or not, in his own time. The girls could feel the same curiosity in each of them and a glance at her Aunt told Susan that even Amelia was interested.

He set his mug down on the counter and suddenly pushed off of it with a thrust of his hips.

"Anyone hungry?" he asked, abruptly.

They all blinked, staring at him in some small measure of surprise before slowly nodding and he grinned again, that boyish smile they so rarely saw, burdened as he was by other concerns. Dark Lords, basilisks, prophecies, criminals, and Dementors left one little time to truly be young, and Harry was much older than his years.

"Time for breakfast, then. Omelets okay with everyone?"

"I'm sure Binky could do something else if you want Harry," Amelia pointed out.

"Who said Binky was cooking?" He smirked, then, and walked away, disappearing into the pantry while the four ladies looked at each other in surprise.

"Is he going to…"

"I think so."

"Should we help?"

Hermione shook her head at Susan. "I think this is one of those moments where we need to just pay attention, love."

They settled into seats at the table, just as Harry returned from the pantry, his arms laden with packages and ingredients that he spread out on the counter with a precision and swiftness that startled the girls.

"Have you ever heard the phrase, 'the Hearth is the heart of the home'?" he asked as he collected several frying pans and turned on the stove. Strips of bacon were laid into one of the pans which startled to sizzle quietly.

"Yes, it was something my grandmother used to say frequently," Amelia said and Harry nodded as he grabbed a large bowl.

"I remember reading that, somewhere, years ago. I don't really know, precisely, where the phrase started," he said. "But I always liked the sound of it. And I built myself an idea around it, over time." He cracked an egg into the bowl with one hand and turned his head, winking at Susan for a moment before he threw the empty shells over his shoulder. Hermione squeaked as they headed right toward her and made to dive out of the way, but the egg shells vanished with a small pop before they made it five feet.

"The hearth is the floor of the fireplace, or the space directly around it where people would gather for warmth, conversation, or to prepare meals over the flames," he continued, cracking more eggs and tossing the empty shells in random directions. Each one vanished before they got very far and Susan smiled as she realized that Binky was working in the background, helping Harry, but not interfering with his use of the kitchen. She wondered how he managed to convince the old house elf to let him cook? Hell, how long had he been using the kitchen to cook without them even knowing about it?

"Before the idea of an entire room just for preparing and cooking food was thought of, that was part of the hearths purpose. Aside from supplying warmth and light, it was used to cook over. These days, the kitchen has replaced the hearth of old in a lot of homes." He sprinkled a bit of pepper into the bowl of eggs and added a splash of milk before he started whisking. While he beat the eggs, he turned, leaning his back against the countertop again so he was facing them, bowl tucked under one arm while he talked.

"In the kitchen, that's where food is kept and prepared, and I think my time at the Dursleys taught me a few things about the value of food." He shook his head when faces fell around the room. "Nothing negative," he assured them. "I don't mean not getting enough to eat or anything else that is now far in my past and can no longer hurt me. I mean a thought process, a way of looking at food and cooking and time spent in the kitchen." His eyes became distant as he lost himself briefly in contemplation but his hands never ceased moving as he turned back to the counter and removed the pan with the bacon from the burner.

He drained off the grease and placed the bacon onto a cutting board. A kitchen knife flashed in his hand, spinning expertly between nimble fingers before he started chopping the bacon into tiny pieces.

"In the kitchen, to me, at least, it's not just food that's created. It's not just a place to heat up nutrients to keep the biological machines of our bodies running. There's a magic to cooking, to preparing a meal. Even more, to cooking with or for friends and family and loved ones. Food is more than just fuel, it's an experience, if it's done right. It fires all of your senses. A well presented meal can be visually pleasing. Taste, smell, texture, even the sound of something sizzling in a pan or the crack when you break the caramelized sugar over top of a crème brulee. Hot and cold, sweet and salty, sharp, tangy. The tastes and smells most overwhelm but it's the entire presentation that makes it more than just something to fill our bellies."

He stirred the bacon into the bowl of eggs and then poured out a measure of the mixture into four pans.

Amelia allowed herself a broad smile, pleased to be included in the rare look into the mind of Harry Potter, and as he continued to speak, she found herself marveling, once again, at his strength and resilience, to come out of the torture he'd endured with his relatives damaged, but able to heal.

"Yes, I didn't get to experience much before Hogwarts. But I read, and I learned, and, among other things, I thought of all the things that cooking meant to me. Since the Dursleys made me do nearly all of the cooking for them as soon as I could reach the stove, it became a way for me to take some power from them, to make it mine. A small victory for myself. Cooking made me think of what family meant. What friendship meant. I determined that the kitchen truly is the heart of the home now, and a home is a place where your family and heart resides.

"Kitchens are a place where memories are made. Where grandparents bake cookies with their grandchildren on Christmas morning. Where parents comfort daughters and sons fresh off their first breakup. It's where people celebrate a new baby or a wedding or an anniversary."

As he spoke he chopped chives and mushrooms, throwing the mushrooms into another pan with a few pats of butter and he quickly sautéed them for a few minutes before adding a measure to the eggs. His next words were spoken carefully, a red glow in his cheeks and he kept his focus intently on what he was doing as he talked.

"It's where newlyweds fumble and stumble around each other, dancing about as they cook their first meal together as husband and wife. While they move around the kitchen, there are stolen kisses and shared glances and touches."

A flush bloomed on the cheeks of all three girls as they listened to his voice wash over them. Each could easily picture themselves within the image he painted and their hearts beat just a little faster as they considered the possible future that image represented.

"As they go on in their lives, if all goes well, perhaps they learn to work together, they may become seamless in their motions, moving about without ever getting in each other's way. As long as the love and care is still there.

"Meals are prepared in the kitchen that bring families together, that celebrate the joys in life and offer comfort on the low points. Humans are social creatures by nature," he added as he carefully folded over the four omelets and slipped them onto plates, "and the kitchen is the social center, the hub of a home."

He added shredded cheese to the top of each omelet with a sprinkle of chives and set a plate in front of his girls and Amelia, who slid gracefully into a seat, a small smile still turning her lips. Moments later, each had a glass of orange juice and a mug of coffee or tea, according to their preferences, resting by their plates.

Harry set the pans in the sink and wiped down the counters with a rag. Binky popped the leftover ingredients back to the pantry and Harry turned and picked up his coffee again, leaning against the counter as he took a long drink, finishing off the mug.

He smiled, somewhat self consciously as Susan, Daphne, and Hermione stared at him, shocked expressions on their faces. It was still exceedingly rare that Harry opened up so much of himself, and none of them had seen it coming, despite the great improvements he'd made with them.

"Anyway. That's why I spend so much time in here, I think," he muttered in a mildly embarrassed tone. "I guess I'm looking forward to that day when it'll be my kitchen, in my home and I'm sharing it with a family entirely of my own."

"You're already doing exactly that, Harry," Amelia told him in a gentle tone. "But I understand what you mean. One day, you'll be married, and some lucky witch," _or witches_ , she added mentally, "is going to help make your kitchen that center of the home you'll build together. Of that, I have no doubt."

He smiled again and stroked the scar behind his jaw, nervously. He glanced at his watch and cursed under his breath. "Gotta get to my run if I want to get it out of the way early. See you all later." He made his way down the length of the table, again, kissing each girl on the cheek and giving Amelia a quick hug before he bolted out of the room, leaving three bemused witches behind with one rather amused witch watching them.

"You know," Susan said in a contemplative tone, staring at the stove where Harry had so recently been standing. "I _really_ hate it when he does things like that."

Hermione snorted. "What? Be just so damn sweet and adorable you just can't help but want to shove him up against a wall and snog him until he forgets his own name?"

"Exactly! But we can't because he's just not quite ready for that, just yet. He might be close to it, but not quite yet."

"And what's more, I would be willing to bet vital portions of my anatomy that he has absolutely no idea what he just did to us with that little display of his." Hermione shook her head. "And this is the guy that keeps insisting he has no understanding of what love really is? I know he can be an idiot at times, especially where his own safety is involved, but I never once thought he was stupid, before."

Hermione and Susan frowned for a few moments when their frustrated contemplations were suddenly broken by the sound of cutlery scraping across flatware. They turned to find that Daphne was already half way through with her omelet as she raised another bite to her lips.

"What?" she asked, a little defensively, after she finished swallowing what was in her mouth. "Trust me, I feel exactly the same way. After listening to that… dammit, how does he make cooking breakfast look and sound so bloody… sensual?" she burst out, causing Amelia to chuckle quietly at the three of them.

"Anyway," Daphne continued, "I know exactly what you guys mean, but… I'm hungry, and I'm not letting this food get cold. You've got to try it, I swear this is one of the best omelets I've ever eaten in my life."

Hermione blinked. So lost had she been in Harry's words, in the glimpse into his mind and heart that he'd given them, she hadn't even paused to wonder if he was actually any good at cooking. With the ease he'd moved around the kitchen, it was obvious he knew what he was doing, so she figured anything he cooked would at least be palatable. With a shrug she and Susan both cut a piece of their omelet and popped it into their mouths.

"See what I mean?" Daphne said, a smug grin turning her lips.

"Son of a…" Susan breathed. "That boy has been holding out on us."


	46. World Cup Part I

**Author's Notes: The Rotten Writer returning, ladies and gentlemen, with another Chapter of Soul Scars ready to go for you. You might have noticed by the chapter title that this is a Part I situation here. I was writing along and realized that to finish up what I wanted to do the chapter would be rather enormous, so, at the suggestion of my awesome beta TyrannicPuppy, I decided to split the chapter into a two parter. A secondary result of this is it'll allow me to expand on some things that I was tempted to leave alone because I didn't want to bump up the word count too much.**

 **Quick warning, as well, I'm working on a page with a brief synopsis of the last three years that I intend to post up. I wanted to slip it in between the last chapter of the Greengrass Problem and before the first chapter of Allegria, but I realize that'll play havoc with some things, so I'm uncertain exactly how to go about it but hopefully it won't foul things up, too much.**

 **Like I mentioned last chapter, here's where things start getting darker and that M rating starts to come into play. This chapter might still be a bit light on the gruesomeness but it's where it all starts. And it only goes downhill from there. Should be lots of fun gang. As far as the next chapter goes, already got about five thousand words of it written, so shouldn't be too long to get to where I want to be and polish things up.**

 **Disclaimer: Nope. I still got nothin'**

 **Here's chapter 45 of Soul Scars. Enjoy!**

Soul Scars Part Four

Allegria

By,

Rtnwriter

Harry decided that he officially hated all forms of magical travel except for brooms. Three years in and he still couldn't manage the Floo properly to save his life without, either, falling flat on his face, or getting launched out of the exit like he was being shot out of a cannon. At which point, he would fall on his face.

Either way, his face was taking a beating that he didn't much appreciate. Apparating was just uncomfortable and nauseating, no matter how many times Amelia had taken him side-along, he was reasonably certain he would never get used to the sensation of being squeezed through a straw or a garden hose.

Now? Portkeys were being added to his list.

"I really hate portkeys," he muttered as he and the rest of the group landed in a painful tangle of limbs and bodies on the ground. People grumbled and cried out in a mixture of exasperation and pain as hands and limbs were bent or stepped on while they tried to extricate themselves from the pile.

Nearby, Harry could hear Sirius and Amelia laughing at them.

Nope. No help would be coming from there.

Finally, after a great deal of struggle, they managed to get to their feet and were in the process of brushing themselves off when, next to him, he heard Hermione sigh, quietly.

"Daphne?" she asked in a low murmur.

"Yes, dear?"

Harry suppressed a smirk at the amused tone in the blond's voice.

"We're in public, Hon. Would you please take your hand off my bum?"

Daphne pouted, but obligingly moved a step away from Hermione and toward Susan.

A moment later, Susan suddenly jumped and cried out, "Daphne!" in a scandalized tone of voice.

Daphne's only response was a decidedly wicked chuckle that warmed Harry's face, and the wink she gave him had him quickly pretending that he was focused on the man that was in the process of letting them know where their campsite was located.

"Here's a map of the grounds," the uniformed Auror was saying, handing over a folded piece of parchment to Sirius as he spoke. "If you want to be able to easily keep track of your party, have each person add a drop of blood to the square at the top right corner of the map and their position will be marked in real time on the map itself."

Sirius arched a brow at that and looked at the parchment in his hand for a moment before he turned to stare at a smugly amused Amelia Bones.

"That map you Marauders made was brilliant. You didn't honestly think that I wouldn't have had Kingsley and Tonks study it before we gave it back to Harry, did you?"

Sirius snorted out a laugh even as Harry spun around to gape at his guardian. "Gave it back?" he blurted out. "What do you mean gave it back? No one gave the map back to me."

"Of course we did, Harry. That map is a family heirloom. I would never dream of taking it from you permanently. As soon as the situation with Sirius was resolved last year, I had Kingsley place it in your school trunk. Flat against the very bottom, inside of your History of Magic text, to protect it from possible damage, of course."

Sirius barked out a laugh as the girls snickered and Harry simply gaped at her in shock. He hardly ever touched the history textbook. Binns' class was so terrible it was hardly worth mentioning in polite conversation and Harry stuck to better texts that he checked out from the school library when needed, and Amelia knew that.

"What?" she asked. "Just because the map rightfully belongs to you, doesn't mean I was going to make it any easier for you to get yourself in even more trouble last term than you already had. The map was returned to you in a timely manner. The fact that you didn't know it was there does nothing to change the fact that we _did_ give it right back after we no longer needed it."

"She's got you there, Pup," Sirius laughed, clapping one hand on Harry's shoulder as he stepped up next to his godson.

Harry's shock morphed into a light glare and he turned to look at Susan. "Are you sure she was a Hufflepuff?" he asked, jerking his head in her aunt's direction. "That seemed like a very Slytherin sort of thing to do right there."

"That's what she's always told me," Susan said, "but she left school before I was even born so I can't say for certain."

Before they could continue, Sirius cut in. "All right, you lot," he called. "Let's step off to the side over here, out of the way, and make sure we can't lose any of you in the shuffle."

Sirius and Amelia went first after they'd gathered all the teens with them together. each of them drawing a drop of blood with a conjured pin and then pressed it to the easily located square in the upper corner of the map. As each drop of blood was added, the parchment glowed a light blue for a moment before returning to normal and a tiny ink dot labeled with the person's name would appear on the map itself.

Just to be certain, after they were all added, Amelia insisted on doing a brief headcount. "Susan, Hermione, Daphne, Harry, Luna, Blaise, Neville, me, and Sirius," she muttered, comparing the people standing in front of her to their locations on the map in her hands. Satisfied, she held the map out to Sirius. "All right, mutt, lead the way."

"I'll have you know, I am a prize winning breed, not a mutt," Sirius said, affecting an insulted tone. Taking the map, he spun on his heel and stalked off, his nose stuck high into the air.

When the snickering group of teens started to follow after him, Amelia quickly waved for them to wait, grinning in eager anticipation.

A minute later, Sirius came stalking back and passed by them, going in exactly the opposite direction from where he'd initially been walking.

"It's this way," he muttered, sheepishly, as he passed them and it was a loudly laughing group of eight that followed after the Marauder as he led them toward their assigned campsite.

#####

It was an hour later when they had found their campsite, set up the two, amazing, wizarding tents, and were sitting around a small fire outside on a series of logs, working their way through a light lunch that Binky had insisted on packing for them.

"They're awesome," Harry was enthusiastically telling the Weasley twins, whom they had discovered setting up at the site right next door to theirs, along with Ron, their sister, Ginny, and their father. Apparently their oldest brothers Bill and Charlie were supposed to be meeting them there a little later, deciding they would apparate over instead of taking the portkey that'd brought them and the Diggorys from Ottery St. Catchpole. Harry'd made a mental note to find and say hello to Cedric, if he could.

"There's three bedrooms in each tent, a full kitchen, dining room, bath, and a sitting room. The shag carpets and lava lamps are a bit much, but still, I love magic."

"I told you, those tents were bought in the 70's," Sirius nearly whined. "It's not my fault they reflect the style of the period."

"I know it's not your fault how they looked, Padfoot. It _is_ your fault, though, that you didn't check them over before bringing them."

"Watch it, Pup," Sirius mock growled. His wand suddenly shot into his hand from the Auror grade holster strapped to his forearm and something brushed past Harry's hair. A moment later the wand disappeared back up Sirius' sleeve with a loud click and he smirked at his godson. "Keep it up and I just might leave your hair like that until after you're back at school for the year."

Harry blinked for a moment, surprised by the suddenness of Sirius' action before he looked around at the rest of the group.

All three of his girls were smirking at him. Luna was giggling madly while Blaise, sitting beside her, was grinning openly. Neville was biting his lip, his face slowly turning red while the twins were grinning in a way that Harry could only describe as maniacal.

"What'd he do to my hair?" he finally asked, unable to contain himself any longer and Gred and Forge immediately rolled off the log they'd been sitting on to land on their backs on the grass, absolutely howling with laughter even as Neville collapsed onto the ground in front of his seat, leaning back against it as he lost the fight to contain his own amusement.

The rest of them weren't in considerably better shape, all of them laughing uproariously as Harry started tugging on the fringe over his forehead, trying to see his hair to find out what his prankster of a godfather had done to him.

After a good five minutes of this, Hermione finally gathered enough self control, and took pity on him, and removed a small mirror from an inside pocket of her robes, holding it out so he could see his reflection in it. Harry blinked again as he stared at the small image for a moment in utter confusion. His hair was still a little on the long side, black, and messy as it ever was. Completely unchanged in any way from how it always appeared.

Harry groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"I just fell for the Wizards First Rule, didn't I?" he muttered, his voice muffled by his hands and that set those of them in the know off again, leaving Harry to explain to Sirius and the twins what Wizard's First Rule was.

"Wait," Sirius said a few minutes later. "So you're telling me, that when you strong armed Cyril Greengrass out of the Lordship of his House and got him to pass it down to Daphne, also agreeing to an Oath that he swore on his magic… the whole thing was a damn bluff?"

Harry smirked, slightly recovered from his embarrassment by basking in the memory of his successful maneuver against the former Lord Greengrass.

"Yup," he said. "Wizard's First Rule: people are stupid. You just tricked me with the same thing. You made me think that you did something to my hair when you actually didn't do anything at all. Good job, Padfoot, I'll give you that one."

Sirius sat up straighter on his portion of the log he was sharing with Amelia, preening slightly. "Well, I have to say it does feel good to have caught the mighty Lord Potter with his own trick. Honestly, though, Pup, that was a fantastic move with Cyril. I'm gonna have to tell that story to Moony again, he'll probably be laughing for days on that one."

"Well if it isn't Sirius Black himself!"

The group turned as a loud, boisterous voice broke into their discussion and Sirius grinned.

"Ludo Bagman," he called to a group of figures walking in their direction. "The man of the hour. Kids, Ludo here is the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports and he's responsible, along with his team, for putting all of this together. A more enthusiastic Head of Games and Sports you'll never likely find. Used to play Quidditch for England and he was probably the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

The ten teens, with the twins added in, clapped, politely, and Bagman grinned, bowing in a dramatic manner.

Ludo Bagman was easily the most noticeable person Harry had seen in quite some time. He was wearing long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal stripes of bright yellow and black. An enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest. He had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed; the robes were stretched tightly across a large belly he surely had not had in the days when he had played Quidditch for England. His nose was squashed (probably broken by a stray Bludger, Harry thought), but his round blue eyes, short blond hair, and rosy complexion made him look like a very overgrown schoolboy.

"Sirius Black, Lord Black, I should say. Heard about you taking up your status last week."

"Yes, bit of a surprise there, Ludo," Sirius admitted, grinning broadly. "Dear mother Walburga blasted me off the family tapestry decades ago and I thought for sure I'd been disowned. Turned out my grandfather ignored her and never actually did the deed so I was able to take over as Head of House."

"Congratulations, congratulations. After everything that happened, you more than most deserve a bit of good in your life, Sirius. I can't tell you how shocked I was when I heard the story. To think, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, getting chucked into Azkaban without even a hint of due process." He shook his head, mournfully. "Absolutely disgraceful. I was ashamed to be a member of the Ministry that day, let me tell you."

"Think nothing of it, Ludo. You had no part in it, of course, and neither did Fudge or our current DMLE, really. That was all Bagnold and Crouch. Speaking of, wasn't Crouch involved with all this as Head of International Magical Cooperation?" Sirius did not look thrilled about the idea of possibly running into the man that had him sent to prison.

"Well he was supposed to be but he up and disappeared after your trial, didn't he?" Ludo said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He leaned forward, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial manner yet somehow managed not to hide a word from anyone nearby. "Course that's not really being bandied about. Bad enough with how things went, but then any chance to investigate him up and vanishes along with him. Bad business, that. But, what can ya do?" He shrugged his large shoulders, a boyish grin bursting out onto his face.

"Anyway, fancy a flutter on the game?" he asked, shaking one of the pockets of his stripped robes which jingled loudly with what sounded like a considerable amount of gold.

Harry lost interest in the discussion once it moved toward gambling and turned back around to observe the comings and goings of the grounds around them. The walk to their site had been eye opening in many ways. Tents with windows, chimneys, weathervanes, even one that was two stories. He couldn't even guess how that one worked, or how the wizards that owned that particular tent thought they were going to be able to hide it from the muggles that owned the camp ground, if they'd still been present.

At Amelia's insistence, the muggle owners had been sent on a long vacation, a Caribbean cruise they had apparently won through some contest they couldn't remember entering and the site was manned entirely by Aurors and volunteer staff consisting mostly of retired Aurors and Hit Wizards and Witches. According to Sirius, the stadium itself was supposed to be able to seat a hundred thousand spectators and he was already looking forward to the game that night.

"Oi, Harry."

Harry jumped and turned his attention back to Sirius who was looking expectantly in his direction. A quick glance around told him that Bagman and his entourage had disappeared sometime during his distraction and the twins were huddled together, talking in excited whispers over a slip of parchment they were holding.

"You still with us?" Sirius asked, and Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I was just looking around and thinking about the game tonight. It all sounds like it should be really exciting."

"It should be a great game. Bulgaria and Ireland both field wonderful teams so I'm sure they'll put on a good show. It's hours, yet, till the game, though. So why don't you guys go explore for a while? If you all head toward the Stadium there should be merchandise booths and such. You can look for souvenirs, even find yourselves something for lunch in a while. Just make sure you all stick together and you're back here by four for an early dinner before the game. I'll have things ready by then."

A glance around showed the rest of them were fine with the idea, minus the twins who had scurried off back to their families campsite, disappearing into one of the tents, so he looked back to his godfather and nodded his head.

"Sounds like a plan to me."

Sirius smiled and waved them away.

As the group started off, Harry felt a tickling sensation across his scalp and scratched idly for a moment before some of the camp decorations caught his attention and he forgot all about it.

Amelia stepped up next to Sirius, watching the teens as they walked away.

"So… how long do you think it'll take him to notice that the time delayed color changing charm you cast just turned his hair pink?" she asked, a grin turning up her lips.

Sirius' only response was a smile and a loud barking laugh as he turned and headed inside the boy's tent, looking to take a short nap before he had to start prepping dinner for the group.

#####

"Harry, you don't have to keep buying us gifts," Hermione half heartedly complained as Harry carefully attached a tiny charm shaped like a golden snitch to the bracelet on her wrist.

"I know I don't have to, Hermione," He muttered, absently, most of his focus on making sure the snitch was securely attached and wouldn't likely fall off. "I want to." He held onto her hand after he was sure the charm was secure and looked her carefully in the eyes.

"I didn't have anything to my name before I got my Hogwarts letter. No money, no personal belongings to speak of, really. Then I came into my position as Head of House and now I have more money available to me than I could likely ever spend, but I'm not a person that wants for much. I'm not the type to go on any shopping sprees buying anything and everything I want, since there really isn't much I want, and the things I have that I most cherish were all gifts from you girls and our friends.

"Going from completely poor to having more money available to me than I know what to do with is… strange. I'm not trying to sound like I'm bragging or something, but I have it and I enjoy being able to buy something small like this when the mood strikes me," he added, tapping the snitch charm with its gently fluttering wings with the tip of one finger. "Remember, my mum's letter told me to live my life, and I'm pretty sure my dad would be completely supportive of me using some of the Potter fortune to spoil the three of you a little bit. I'm not trying to buy your affections or friendship, and I trust the three of you not to abuse the fact that I'm willing to spend money on you, so there's no worries, right?"

While he'd been talking, her expression had softened from fondly exasperated to something showing just the fondness she felt for him. When he finished, though, she made a conscious effort to look more stern. She had her own money and her own vault. The thousand galleons she had been gifted by Branch Manager Ragnok was in no way as complex or lucrative an account as those held by any of her friends in the wizarding world, but she had still worked closely with Gringotts advisors to ensure that the funds she had available had only grown since the vault was opened in her name.

She did not need anyone to pay her way or to spoil her.

Before she could say anything to that effect, however, his hands found her waist and he pulled her close to him, his lips easily finding hers and all thought of protests bled away as her mind focused itself entirely on physical sensation.

"That is so not fair," she said in a breathless whisper after he pulled back from her.

"What's that?"

"You can't just kiss me whenever you know you're about to lose an argument." She tried to glare at him, but that was difficult to do when she couldn't stop smiling.

"I didn't realize we were arguing," he said, his hands still firmly holding her waist. "Or that I was losing." He leaned forward to kiss her again when a voice interrupted them.

"Hey, stop monopolizing, you two."

They turned slightly, to find Susan and Daphne grinning at them, and no sign of the rest of their friends.

"They moved down a couple of shops," Daphne answered the unasked question in Hermione's cinnamon gaze. "Blaise wanted to look at a particular shop, apparently."

Sirius had been right when he'd said there would be merchandise booths closer to the stadium itself. 'Booth', however, was an extreme understatement that Harry reasoned he really shouldn't have been surprised by. Each booth made such extensive use of expansion charms that the interior space more closely resembled one of the shops he'd find in places like Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade.

Presently, the four of them were standing in the shadowed corner of the jewelry shop where Harry had purchased the snitch charms for all three of his girls as a reminder of the day. With people rushing past them, all busy and focused on their own goals, they went unnoticed.

"My turn," Susan said, grinning impishly as she took ahold of Harry's arm. As he stepped away, Hermione turned her attention to her new charm, still a bit unsure over accepting it, as much as the sight of it dangling from her wrist made her smile.

Her musings were cut short when a pair of soft hands cupped her cheeks and she caught a glimpse of deep blue eyes just before a warm pair of lips caught hers and a tongue slipped, unexpectedly, into her mouth. She froze for a moment, before her mind re-engaged. Hermione may have been far less demonstrative in her affections that either Daphne or Susan were, but over the last few months since they'd completed their part of the bond, her determination to take things slowly was being worn away. With the intoxicating honeysuckle scent of her bond mate wafting over her, she threw all caution to the wind.

Without thinking, her arms wrapped tightly around Susan's waist, pulling the other girl flush against her body and she took a more forceful command of their kiss, engaging Susan in a brief, but intense, snog, as the two of them carefully explored each others mouths. Much to Susan's delight.

When she attempted to pull back, her eyes shot open and a low moan echoed up into the back of her throat as she found her bottom lip trapped between Hermione's teeth. A warm tingling sensation shot through her body a moment before her lip was released and she felt a gentle kiss being pressed to where she'd just been bitten.

"Hmmm…" Hermione hummed quietly, low in her throat. She lightly nuzzled the side of Susan's neck, tilting her head back until she could whisper, " _that_ was fun," into the stunned redhead's ear, then she abruptly stepped away, leaving Susan dazed and aching for something more.

"Come on," Hermione chirped, brightly as she hooked an arm through Harry's. "We need to catch up with the gang before they get into trouble."

Susan didn't move, her lips still slightly pursed, eyes glazed over and Daphne chuckled quietly at the sight of her dazed bond mate.

"You okay, there, love?" she asked as Susan blinked rapidly and snapped out of her daze.

"Damn," she muttered, turning to follow Hermione with her eyes. "I think we've created a monster."

Daphne laughed again and pulled Susan along with her. "I can't believe she actually did that to you," she said, thrilled with their bond mate's actions, and the progress that it indicated with their relationship, as they followed along behind Harry and Hermione.

#####

"I can't believe you just did that to her," Harry muttered into Hermione's ear, a grin playing around his lips.

"I can't either," she said. "God, I don't know what came over me I just… oh and in public, too," she moaned, giddy elation bleeding into sudden panic for a moment.

"Don't worry, Daphne and I made sure no one else could see you two," Harry assured her before cautiously asking, "you're okay with it, otherwise?"

She considered that in silence for a moment before she nodded. "I am," she said. "They've been so very patient with me since January. Nothing more than fairly light kissing, really. That was…" She flushed brilliantly. "That was certainly more than a simple kiss, but I really did enjoy it."

Harry patted her hand where it rested in the crook of his elbow. "Good, then," he said. He was still more than a little confused over exactly where things were going with the four of them, where the girls expected things to land, and figured they were due for another honest conversation sometime in the near future. He knew that of the four of them, he was still a little more on the outside, but he was getting better. With the frequent bleed over of the love the girls felt that he caught through their bond, it was getting easier and easier for him to think he might just be able to return those feelings.

He hadn't really given it serious thought, something inside him making him shy away from the idea that he might actually be in love with the girls, but he was skirting around the edges of it, and getting closer to it by the day.

Daphne and Susan caught up to them and Hermione giggled when Daphne leaned in to whisper something into her ear. They found Blaise, Neville, and Luna and after looking around for a while longer they headed back to their campsite, looking forward to a good dinner before the game.

When they arrived, Sirius had a gleeful, expectant look on his face and Harry glared at him.

"Twenty minutes," he said, dropping onto a seat on one of the logs where they'd rested earlier. "Twenty minutes it took before any of my so-called friends would tell me why they couldn't stop laughing. Pink, Padfoot? Really?"

"Well it was obviously funny," Sirius pointed out, chortling happily with the results of his prank. "And hey," he indicated Harry's once again ebony hair. "You managed to get it back to normal."

"That's not the point, Padfoot. You know I'll get you back at some point."

"I look forward to the attempt, Pup."

"Cut it out you two and eat. We need to leave soon if we want to get to our seats," Amelia admonished them, ignoring the rest of their group that had resumed snickering over Harry's reaction when they'd finally told him about his bright pink hair.

Dinner went by quickly, and before they knew it, it was five thirty in the evening and time to head to their seats. It was just an hour to go before the Quidditch World Cup was set to start.

#####

"I'm confused," Harry muttered, looking around the box of seats where they were waiting for the game to start.

"What about?" Daphne asked, popping a chocolate frog into her mouth.

"I'm not sure we climbed enough stairs to be as high up as it feels like we are. It's kind of freaking me out, to be honest."

Behind them, Amelia laughed and they turned around in their seats to look at her, Susan and Hermione joining them in wondering what the woman had found so funny.

"That's because of your talent on a broom, Harry," she said. "See, the stadium is designed so that, going up, you actually travel further with each step then you technically should. You'll noticed it when it's time to go back down that it'll be a much longer walk than it was on the way up."

"Okay, what's that got to do with flying, though?" Harry wondered.

"It's a little difficult to describe, but… have you ever heard of 'perfect pitch'?" she asked and Harry and Hermione both nodded.

"It's the ability to recognize the pitch of a given musical note or to produce any note," Hermione said and Amelia nodded.

"Right. Harry's sense of flying is similar. It's an innate ability that some people have, and part of why he's just naturally so good on a broom. You always have a sense of how high off the ground you are and that's why, in those dives I've been told about you're, always able to pull out before actually hitting the ground. Visual acuity isn't enough for that, you have to have an actual sense of the distance. Now, you wouldn't be able to say exactly how many feet off the ground you are in any given moment, but you've got a decent idea how high up you are. The reason it's bugging you is because your visual sense while climbing the stairs doesn't match up with that sense you have that's telling you how high you are."

Harry considered that for a moment. "Huh. Well, that makes sense I guess. I just wish it would stop annoying me."

"Just think of it like this, Pup. Ignore how many stairs you climbed. You _know_ you're higher up than that, and you know magic was involved in getting you here faster and easier than you would normally have thought possible," Sirius tried to help. "That might help you push aside the strangeness of it."

The sound of a throat clearing drew their attention and they turned back to the front as Ludo Bagman stood up and waved to the loudly cheering crowd. He cast a Sonorous charm on himself and his magically amplified voice boomed out across the vast stadium as he introduced the teams and their mascots.

Harry leaned forward in his seat, curious about the mascots, and when he saw a group of what looked like women walking out onto the field for the Bulgarian team he cocked his head to the side, slightly confused. Then they started to dance, and his level of confusion only grew to new heights.

"I don't get it," he said, leaning back in his seat. "What kind of mascot is a group of women? That's just cheerleaders, isn't it?"

He looked to Susan on his right to find her giving him a strange look.

"What?" he asked. "Did Sirius change my hair color, again?"

She snorted out a laugh and shook her head. "No, Harry. I'm just surprised you're not reacting to the Veela."

"The what?"

"Those women are Veela, Harry," Daphne explained from his other side. "Look at the other men around here, tell me what they're doing."

With a glance around, Harry realized that most of the men in the box were behaving very oddly. Malfoy Junior and Senior were seated at the very front of their section, and Missus Malfoy appeared to be holding both of them back from trying to climb over the railing. Fred and George were preening and flexing in a ludicrous manner and Ron Weasley was actually drooling, staring vacantly at the floor of the stadium where the women were dancing. On Susan's other side, Blaise and Neville were also looking a little glassy eyed, but Blaise would occasionally shake his head, as if coming out of a daze before he'd drop right back into it.

"What's going on?" he asked, slightly alarmed.

"Veela have an Allure that attracts men," Amelia explained in a thoughtful tone, studying Harry curiously. "Most men kind of lose their minds around them. Veela can control how strong their Allure is, but they can't turn it off, only push it down to a low level, at best. It takes a strong will for a wizard not to be ensnared, and those Veela down there are cranking up their Allure as much as they can, I would imagine, trying to catch the crowd's attention."

Frowning, Harry reached past Susan and snapped his fingers in front of Neville's nose a couple of times.

"Hey, Nev," he barked, "snap out of it, Mate."

No reaction.

Sighing, Harry sat back in his seat and let his head fall back against it, deciding to just wait for the game to start, not noticing how his girls all smiled and shared a look between the three of them at his reaction, or rather, lack of a reaction, to the Veela on the field.

Eventually, the Bulgarian Mascots finished their routine, the Mascots for the Irish did their thing (he did find the Leprechauns interesting, at least) and Bagman was back at the railing to get things started.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN," Ludo said in his amplified voice. "I WELCOME YOU ALL TO THE 1994 QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP!"

Even his Sonorous charm couldn't have kept up with the ear shattering cheer that rose from the crowd and Harry grinned excitedly.

"Harry, look," Hermione cried, grabbing his arm and pointing toward the top of the stands directly across from them. He looked, and found a large screen were a huge image of Ludo Bagman was visible, grinning broadly and waving to the crowd. "Looks like they've adapted the jumbo screens you see at muggle sports stadiums," she said. "We'll be able to get a better look at some of the game."

"LET THE FESTIVITIES BEGIN!"

At Ludo's shout, the referee threw the quaffle into the air and the game was underway, Bagman only having time to say the chasers names before the quaffle was in the air being passed to another. Back and forth in a rapid fire motion across the pitch they moved the large red ball until the first goal was scored bringing it 10-0 in favor of the Irish.

Harry, however, heard and saw none of it.

 _After the festivities, that is when the real festivities will begin._

The words from his nightmare echoed in his head, triggered by Ludo using the same phrase. Over and over they repeated themselves, that high, eerie voice whispering through his mind like wisps of smoke, curling around his thoughts.

 _The real festivities will begin_

"Harry? What's wrong?"

He turned his head, blinking suddenly, and sound came rushing back as Bagman continued to comment on the game, people shouted and cheered and stomped their feet, raising a thunderous cacophony of sound that seemed to press in on him from all sides. He stared blankly into Hermione's worried gaze, her face not registering for several long moments before he suddenly shook himself out of his stupor and spun around in his seat.

"Amelia!" he hissed urgently and she looked down at him from where she'd been following the Bulgarian Seeker through the sky, a questioning look on her face that turned quickly to worry when she saw the frantic expression he wore.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I think something bad is going to happen."

She glanced to Sirius beside her for a moment before looking back at Harry.

"What is it? How do you know?"

At that he fidgeted uncomfortably. "I don't know what," he said, having to raise his voice slightly over the noise of the crowd. "I just… Yesterday, remember I was up early?"

She nodded.

"I was up because I'd been up all night. I had a dream. A really weird dream with Riddle… it… it wasn't like my other dreams. It was different. Riddle was there, talking to someone. I could only see his back for most of it. But they talked about a Bertha Jorkins, and Riddle said something about his most loyal follower doing something with information that he got from Bertha's mind. He said he broke her mind getting it and they disposed of the body. The man said that Riddle's follower 'hid approximately two hundred of them around the grounds', and Riddle said 'After the festivities, the real festivities will begin.' Ludo saying that word reminded me. I don't know I just have a really bad feeling."

"Bertha Jorkins works in the Ministry. She hasn't been seen or heard from in weeks," Amelia said. "You've never met her before or heard me mention her, have you?"

He shook his head. "No. In my dream, that was the first time I'd ever heard the name before. There was a muggle there too, an old man. Riddle killed him with the Killing Curse and when I woke up my scar was burning like mad, like it did when Quirrell touched me back in first year."

Nodding, Amelia pulled out her badge as Sirius leaned closer to better hear what was being said. "Did they say anything else?" she asked. "Anything that might give a clue what they were referring too?"

Harry shook his head. "No, nothing specific, just that after thirteen years of peace, it was time to remind people what real terror means."

Harry shot a look at Daphne out of the corner of his eyes but said nothing more, waiting to see what Amelia was planning to do.

"No indication of what exactly the threat is," she mused aloud. "No indication of where or when this threat will take place, either. It could be tonight, it could be in months and somewhere else entirely but…" She trailed off and stood, slowly scanning the stadium around them. "If Riddle wants to strike terror into people, he couldn't do much better than attack the World Cup during the game. One-hundred-thousand witches, wizards and children crammed into this stadium. Even if the attack is just a scare, hundreds of people could get killed in the panic, trampled by other people trying to escape."

She tapped her badge with her wand and held it up to her mouth. "This is Amelia Bones initiating Emergency Protocol Gamma. I have received a tip of a possible, unspecified, threat against the people of Great Britain. No indication that the attack or threat is set to take place during this event, but we can't be too careful. Eyes open, constant scans for dark magic, I want to try to minimize any potential damage before it kicks off."

She tapped her badge again and then pinned it to her robes.

"I need to talk to Fudge, just not sure how I can convince him there's a possible threat without bringing up dreams. He's not likely to take that seriously."

She placed her hand on Harry's shoulder, giving it a warm squeeze. "Keep your eyes open, Harry, and please, if something happens, try to limit the heroics."

Harry couldn't quite muster a grin as his face settled instead into a determined expression that she knew all too well.

"You said it, Amy. It's in my blood. I won't be stupid, but if I can help, I'm going to."

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand.

"I know. I just wish you would be a little more selfish, sometimes. And then I remember you just wouldn't be you, if you were, and I want to beat my head against a wall." She stood and patted his shoulder before making her way out into the aisle and down to where Minister Fudge was sitting with the Ministers from Bulgaria and Ireland as well as a few other government officials, drawing him aside to speak to him behind a privacy charm that she quickly cast.

"Hey, dad?"

Harry turned his head back toward the front to see Ron standing and pointing down toward the center of the pitch.

"Who's that out on the field?"

#####

Aurors First Class Richard Blake and Martin Graham exchanged a look after hearing Director Bones' message over their badges. They were patrolling around the interior perimeter of the field against the inside wall of the stands. On their right, two feet above their heads, were the first, and lowest row of seats and the open pitch lay to their left.

Immediately, both Aurors wands shot into their hands and they began casting dark magic detection charms as they continued their patrol.

"Hey, you two!"

Blake looked up at the voice, a wizard, middle aged and sitting next to a woman with a lovely face that was obviously far too young for the man.

"Somethin' wrong?" the wizard demanded. "You blokes're throwin' out charms like they got a shelf-life."

"S.O.P, Sir," Blake called up. "Nothing to worry about as far as we know. Just making sure everything is secure."

He turned back to his job to see Graham had continued on without him while he'd been engaged and was standing a good thirty feet away, repeatedly casting his charms at the ground in front of him.

"Got something?" Blake asked, coming up to his partner.

"I'm not actually sure. Check for yourself. See if you see what I see."

Blake's wand moved through the motions of the detection charm and a moment later he frowned.

"Not just me then?" Graham asked, noting Blake's expression.

"Not just you," Blake muttered and cast the charm again, verbally, that time. Normally a detection charm like the one they were using would cause anything within the spectrum of magic being searched for to light up a bright red in the casters view. Instead of a spot, or even multiple spots of red, the ground in front of them, as far as the effect of the charm extended, glowed a soft pink in his vision.

"Something to hide or suppress the magical signature?" Blake suggested.

"Might try a Finite to get rid of that, but if we do, who knows if that'll trigger whatever this is."

Graham tapped his badge to let Director Bones know what they'd found when Blake grabbed his arm and pulled his attention away. He turned, following Blake's extended arm to where he was pointing toward the center of the field.

"Who the bloody hell is that?" Graham demanded, seeing the black robed figure that'd caught his partners notice.

"No idea, but we gotta get that idiot off the field. No clue what's going on out here," Blake shot back, already moving away and toward the person standing on the pitch.

The figure raised their arm, pointing a wand straight up into the sky.

"MORSMORDRE!"

The figure practically roared the word in a deep, commanding tone and a jet of light shot from the tip of his wand high into the air where it burst like a firework, suddenly forming a shape that hadn't been seen in the skies for more than a decade.

Twenty feet behind Blake, Graham had an extremely good view of what happened next. His partner stepped over a patch of softer looking earth and the moment he'd moved past something erupted out of the ground behind him. With an inarticulate roaring sound the creature leaped, landing on Blake's back, bearing the Auror to the ground as its head shot forward, rotting teeth sinking into warm flesh. Its head jerked back and Graham could actually hear the sound of flesh tearing as blood spurted through the air.

His wand came up, a flame spell on the tip of his tongue when a weight slammed into his side and his world dissolved into something filled with blood, teeth, and milky white eyes.

#####

"Ron, let me have those omnioculars," Harry demanded, reaching for the magical binoculars that were hanging around the redhead's neck. He ignored the boy's protests and practically yanked them off of him, holding them up to peer down at the dark figure on the pitch, just in time to see them raise their wand toward the sky.

Over the next thirty seconds, so many things happened in such rapid succession that it would be anyone's guess as to the actual series of events. The figure on the ground cast some spell into the air and Harry could see a pair of Aurors moving toward them as a burst of greenish light lit the sky above. Moments later, scores of pale, emaciated looking bodies erupted from out of the earth on the pitch, so many that Harry couldn't begin to estimate a count and the two Aurors were almost instantly swarmed under, blood staining the grass and dirt around them as they fell. The creatures were already rushing across the pitch and climbing into the stands as the shocked silence that'd accompanied the Dark Mark appearing in the sky started to become screams of panic.

In the air, the players froze in shock at the sight of the skull hanging in front of them with a long snake protruding grotesquely from its open jaws and in their distraction, no one was paying attention to what else was happening.

Harry watched as one of the Chasers from Ireland collided full on with a Bulgarian Beater and both players plummeted toward the earth with absolutely nothing to break their fall even as a bludger, left unattended and unwatched, smashed into the Irish Keepers broom, shattering the handle and sending its rider also plummeting to his death. People in the section below them were already pushing their way up the stands, filling the space as the screams grew louder and Bagman simply stood, staring in dumbfounded shock at the spreading scene before him.

"Ludo! Tell people to get the hell out of here!" Amelia screamed at him, grabbing one of his arms and yanking on it until he spun to face her. His mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out and she swore before she cast a finite at him to cancel his Sonorous charm, then cast the amplifying charm on herself.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THERE ARE INFERI INSIDE THE STADIUM. PLEASE, PANIC WILL ONLY CAUSE FURTHER DAMAGE AND INJURY. IF YOU CAN APPARATE AWAY, DO SO, AND TAKE WITH YOU SIDE-ALONG AS MANY AS YOU CAN SAFELY HANDLE. PARENTS, MAKE SURE TO KEEP CLOSE WATCH ON YOUNGER CHILDREN. THIS IS AMELIA BONES, HEAD OF THE BRITISH DMLE AND I AM AUTHORIZING UNDERAGE WITCHES AND WIZARDS TO USE MAGIC DURING THIS CRISIS. ANYONE FOURTH YEAR OR ABOVE, PLEASE HELP IF YOU CAN, OTHERWISE, GET OUT AND GET AWAY AS QUICKLY AND AS SAFELY AS YOU CAN."

Apparition cracks started to echo through the air moments later and Amelia nodded to herself, canceling her charm as she reached for her badge, her eyes scanning the scene as small fires started to erupt throughout the lowest levels of the stands.

Harry felt someone grab his arm and spun to find Hermione staring at him fearfully.

"This is going to be bad," she yelled over the noise. Behind her he could see Amelia talking to her badge, her Sonorous charm obviously canceled as she attempted to relay orders to her Aurors. "With so many people… there aren't enough exits. People are going to get trampled in the panic."

A wizard rushed past them, bumping Hermione hard and only her grip on Harry's arm stopped her from falling over into the next row of seats.

"Any ideas what we should do?" Neville asked as he and Blaise came up to them.

"We can't get out of here with people rushing for the exits and we're going to be running out of space up here soon enough too with so many running up this way," Blaise added and over his shoulder Harry could see Mister Weasley and the twins attempted to push back a few people that were trying to get into the top box.

"There's no room up here, and nowhere to go," Twin one was yelling.

"You need to go down ya bloody wanker!" Twin two roared and ducked when the wizard he was facing threw a punch at him. a quick shove and the man stumbled back and fell, tumbling down several steps before he caught himself and jumped back to his feet. Snarling, furiously, he charged back up the stairs, brandishing his wand and the twin that'd shoved him dove to the side, narrowly avoiding a bludgeoning charm that came hurtling from the man's wand.

He was lower down than they were. The spell came up at them at an angle and everything happened so fast, no one had even a moment to react before the charm caught Hermione in the abdomen. The look on her face as the charm struck her would be forever etched into Harry's memory. Her eyes widened in surprise even as her mouth dropped open into a shocked 'o'. The charm lifted her up at an angle, over the row of seats behind them, and over the railing at the top of the stadium wall and out into open air.

"HARRY, NO!" Amelia screamed, turning just in time to see what happened, and Harry racing up the few steps to leap over the railing after her.

#####

" _I've got you, little one. I promise, we'll be okay."_

" _Fleur, I want to go home."_

" _Soon, Gabrielle. Just keep your eyes closed, please. I'll get us out of here."_ Fleur ducked past a couple of witches that were trying to fight by each other to head up the stairs and she allowed herself a mental roll of her eyes. Going up would only work for so long and people were already crowding at the top of the stadium, offering less and less room to maneuver the more they tried to cram their way in.

She agreed with that woman, Bones, that apparating away was by far the best idea. Unfortunately, she didn't trust herself to try it with her little sister clutched in her arms, not without splinching one or both of them in the process, at least. So, if up is too dangerous, and down might bring you face to face with your own death, what do you do?

 _Spit in Death's eye,_ she thought with a growl, her eyes narrowed at one of the undead monsters as it bounded over the rows of seats below, its milky gaze fixed on the two of them.

" _Hold tight to me,"_ she whispered into her sisters ear and shifted the girl to her left arm, holding her against her hip as little arms wrapped tightly around her neck and shoulders. She needed to be emotional for this, as she raised her right hand, and dammit, her emotions were well and truly all over the fucking map!

Her body tensed, vision sharpening as smoke began to rise from her upturned palm. At the last possible moment, a ball of flames burst into existence, cupped in her hand. Simultaneously she stepped to the side even as she threw the fire at the charging monstrosity.

Roaring changed abruptly to shrieking as the fireball struck the beast in the center of its chest and it immediately burst into flame, hurtling past them and into the wall of the next level behind them, the flames rapidly consuming it until naught but ashes remained.

Panting harshly, she shifted Gabrielle in her arms again and continued running. Ducking, twisting, and occasionally jumping over and around obstacles when she could, she worked her way steadily down toward the exits. Along the way, she did her best to ignore the blood and bodies they came across, hoping that her sister had listened to her and was keeping her eyes tightly closed against the horror around them.

Three levels above their escape route, her foot landed in a pool of blood and skidded out from under them, her sister shrieking in fear and surprise as they were sent tumbling to the ground. With a pained groan, Fleur pushed herself to a sitting position, checking her sister for injury as best she could when a low growling noise reached her ears and she froze, her blood turning to ice water in her veins.

Her head snapped up and she scrambled back at the sight of the Inferius lifting its head from where it had been buried in a prone woman's torn open abdomen. Before she could even begin to scramble away, muster her fire, anything, the creature howled and lunged for them.


	47. World Cup Part II

**Author's Notes: The Rotten Writer, here again people with another chapter of Soul Scars. This be the wrap up for the World Cup and sets up some future interactions. Not a lot else to say, really, so let's just jump right into things.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing save my original plot and characters.**

 **Here's chapter 46 of Soul Scars. Enjoy.**

Soul Scars Part Four

Allegria

By,

Rtnwriter

It takes a body roughly three to four seconds to fall a distance of two-hundred feet. At some far corner of his mind, Harry knew this as he threw himself over the railing after his bond mate, and that knowledge had a wave of blind terror burning its way through him.

With his own body held straight as an arrow, he plummeted toward Hermione's falling form, his right hand held out to his side in response to a frantically cast, silent, summoning charm, as her screams echoed up toward him.

He almost cheered when the smooth handle of a broomstick slapped into his palm, but quelled that urge to focus on the task ahead of him. Mounting the unfamiliar broom in mid air, he pushed it down, swooped below Hermione and wrapped one arm around her, grasping the handle of the broom tightly with both hands.

With no time to tell her to hold onto him, even if she would hear him past her screaming, he could only hope the centrifugal force wouldn't tear her from his grip as he pulled up hard on the broom.

Her arms came around his neck, her face buried against his chest as every muscle in his body went taught, straining against gravity and momentum to correct their mad plunge toward the hard earth beneath them. The toes of his dragonhide boots dragged against the ground as the broom straightened out, something caught his foot and with a sudden lurch they were thrown from the broom as he felt something in his knee pop and then they were tumbling across the ground, rolling over and over until they finally came to a stop with Harry laying flat on his back, staring, dazed, up at the sky, and Hermione was sprawled across his chest.

He honestly wasn't sure exactly how long they laid there, but, eventually, he recovered enough from their rough landing to become aware of Hermione's gasping sobs as she clung to him, her entire body shaking, almost violently with the force of them.

"Are you okay?" he choked out., When she didn't respond he tightened the hold he had on her body and raised his voice. "Hermione. Are you hurt?"

"I d-don't th-think so," she sobbed, barely making herself understood.

"Come on, Hermione, you need to pull it together, right now. We can't stay here, we've got to get back to the others."

Nodding, she took several deep breaths and slowly sat up, allowing him to rise to a seated position as well. Before she could stand, he grabbed her and pulled her into a searing kiss, and when they broke apart, he pressed his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes.

"I have never been so scared in my life," he whispered. "I can't lose you."

That succeeded in drawing a small smile from her. "You saved me," she pointed out. "As long as you're around, you'll never lose me."

After another quick kiss she pushed herself to her feet, visibly shaken, but thankfully calmer and more in control of herself. A look around told her they were a good hundred feet from the exterior wall of the stadium. A steady stream of screaming, panicked people poured out of one of the exits nearby. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any inferi near them. She hoped there weren't any out here, at least.

"Come on," she said to Harry, who was still sitting on the ground. "We have to find a way back to the others."

He grimaced and blew out a sigh, looking up at her. "I can't," he said and she jerked around to stare at him.

"What?" she asked. "What do you mean, you can't?"

He nodded in the direction of their path along the ground, indicating the two deep furrows his feet had dug into the earth. "My right foot caught on something. That's why we fell off the broom. Something in my knee popped from the force of it, luckily my boots protected my foot and ankle, but I don't think I can stand with my knee like it is, much less walk, or run."

With that information in mind, she finally noted the sweat starting to bead on his forehead and the pained expression on his face that he was attempting to hide and she bit back the urge to swear up a blue streak, instead focusing her mind on finding a solution to their problem.

"I don't know any medical spells," she fretted. "You might be able to use a crutch, or a cane, but…" She trailed off, looking around desperately for a moment, hoping that something would inspire an idea when a thought suddenly popped into her head. "The broom!" she exclaimed. "Where's the broom? You could ride it and stay off your bad leg!"

His face broke out into a broad grin. "Absolutely brilliant, 'Mione, as always," he said as he held out his hand and silently summoned the broom. It came flying over from where it had landed about thirty feet away and slapped firmly into his hand.

With Hermione's help, and the aid of the broom, he painfully rose onto his good leg and awkwardly mounted the broom. "Woah. This is a Firebolt!" he cried, finally noting the lettering carefully etched onto the side of the smooth handle, giving her a wide eyed look as he realized what it was he was riding.

"It's a stick with bristles," she said, rolling her eyes. "As long as it gets you off the ground I don't care what it's called."

He wisely bit back his instinctive retort, well aware that she had little to no interest in brooms and flying and held out one hand to her. "Well?" he said. "Climb on."

The look she leveled at him made it very clear just what she thought of that particular idea, and might have even questioned his intelligence for even suggesting she get back on anything that would take her feet away from terra firma.

"We've both already said it. We have to get back to the others and they're up there," he said, pointing up to the top of the stadium wall where the two of them had gone over the railing. His finger shifted to point toward the exit, where people were still pouring out. "The inferi are around the lower levels, between us and them if we try to get in that way and go up the stairs. The best option is to fly up, over the wall."

She hesitated a moment longer and he held his hand out to her again. "I promise, you'll be safe with me, and I'll go as easy as I can."

"Oh, fine," she huffed, unable to argue against the logic behind his reasoning and she took his hand, carefully climbing onto the broom behind him. As soon as she was on, her arms wrapped tightly around his middle and she closed her eyes, pressing her face against his back.

"Okay," she said, her voice muffled against him and he gently pulled up on the handle, steering the amazingly responsive broom into the air.

"What do you know about inferi?" he asked, hoping to distract her. "I vaguely remember reading the word somewhere but I can't remember anything about them. How do you fight them?"

"You don't, really," she informed him after a moment of careful thought. "They're strong, fast, they don't feel pain, and they're already dead so normal methods of killing them don't work very well."

"They have to have a weakness, even the basilisk could have been killed by something as simple as a rooster crowing."

"Fire. Fire and decapitation, maybe. But if you're close enough to cut their head, off then you're already way too close for comfort."

"Good to know," he muttered as they finally came over the edge of the wall and were almost immediately set upon by their friends and bond mates.

"Thank Merlin," Susan gasped out, almost yanking Hermione off of the broom and into her arms.

Harry remained seated on the broom, unable to make heads or tails of anything that was being said as all of the various voices overlapped into a meaningless jumble of words. A sharp, piercing whistle tore through the air and they fell silent, the group parting like the Red Sea before Moses to let Amelia through.

Her expression was a mixture of terror and relief as she quickly examined Hermione for injury, only finding a few bruises from their tumble off the broom before she moved onto Harry, frowning as she cast a diagnostic charm over his knee.

"Staying on the broom?"

Harry nodded and she blew out a sigh.

"What did I tell you about the heroics?" she asked and he leveled a steady gaze at her.

"I wasn't about to just let her fall," he said.

"I'm not saying you should have. I'm just…"

Her throat closed up and she pulled him into an almost crushing embrace.

"I thought my heart stopped when she went over," she muttered, thickly. "Then you actually went and _jumped_ after her." Somehow, her grip on him tightened even more for a moment before she pulled away. "I'm just glad you're both okay."

"You _purposely_ jumped after me?" Hermione demanded, rounding on Harry when Amelia backed away from him and he blinked in surprise.

"Yeah, what did you think happened?" he asked.

"I thought you got thrown over, same as I did. I can't believe you purposely jumped off a two-hundred foot high wall, Harry!"

"I wasn't going to let you get hurt, Hermione. I promised myself, I promised Amelia, and I even promised your parents at one point that if there was ever anything I could do to protect any of you girls I would do it."

"You could have died!"

"You _would_ _have_ died if I hadn't done it! I don't care what I have to do, I'm not losing you. Any of you. You can be upset with me for risking my life all you want but if I have to, that is always exactly what I'll do to keep the three of you safe!"

His face was flushed, eyes gleaming brightly and there was a hard set to his jaw showing that he was bound and determined to dig his heels in and not be moved on this issue, no matter what anyone said

"Argue later, kids, we don't have time, right now," Sirius said as he cut in between them and Harry suddenly found his godfather wrapped around him. "Dammit, Pup, I thought you were kidding when you said you were always around for the chaos and mayhem."

"'Welcome to my world, Padfoot," Harry muttered, watching as Daphne and Susan pulled Hermione aside, whispering urgently in her ears and holding her tightly between them as the rest of the group came up to hug or clap him on the back or shoulder. A few minutes later, after a toe curling kiss from Daphne and Susan, the group started to settle down and Harry looked around the box, quickly taking stock.

Amelia, Sirius, Mister Weasley, Hermione, Susan, Daphne, Neville, Blaise, Luna, Gred and Forge, and their brother, Ron were all still present in the top box. The minister and other officials were gone, as were the Malfoy's. Of the group, Luna and Ron were probably the least equipped to deal with a crisis situation, though he knew Luna to have an extensive knowledge of spells that went beyond the school curriculum, she was a Ravenclaw, after all.

"So, what's the plan?" he asked. "Are we just escaping, or fighting these things along the way?"

"Fighting," was the immediate response from his friends. Only the adults and Ron seemed to have a different opinion on the matter.

"We need to get you kids out of here as fast as possible," Amelia argued. "Leave clearing out the inferi to the Aurors."

"How many Aurors were on hand, Amy?" he asked. "Doesn't matter, there is no way they can handle about two-hundred inferi plus tens of _thousands_ of panicked and terrified spectators! Look around! This place is a madhouse and the only way out, aside from through the mess, is to go over the wall by broom, and we've only got one broom between us. No matter what, we're going through that!"

He flung his arm out, pointing to the shifting mass of humanity still present within the stadium. Screams, howls, growls, and cries rose up toward them like some disturbing choir, sending a chill through most of those present.

"I'm not saying we should be trying to hunt down the inferi, but they're weak against fire, according to Hermione, and if I see one, I won't hesitate to end its existence. We focus on getting out, but anything between us and the exit, we deal with as a group."

"You are all kids-"

"'Anyone fourth year and above, please help if you can'," he quoted, cutting her off. "Your words, Amy."

"You aren't fourth years, yet."

"We're sure as hell not third years," he shot back. "And Nev, Blaise, the girls and I, we all know more spells than a lot of fourth years already. With you adults and the twins we can protect Luna and Ron and help whoever we come across on the way. I want out of here just as much as the next person, but I'm not going to just leave someone else to suffer if there's something I can do to help, Amy."

By the time he finished, his eyes were blazing brightly and all of his friends, including the twins, had arranged themselves beside and behind him. The nine of them stood firm, with Harry hovering on his borrowed broom, sword hanging from his waist, dirty, disheveled, _injured_ , but determined.

In that moment, Amelia felt as if she was seeing a glimpse of the future. Harry Potter, General in the rapidly approaching second war against Voldemort, and the most likely inheritor of Dumbledore's title of Leader of the Light. It was clear, there would be no dissuading him, or any of them. In such a situation, those kids should have been looking to her, Sirius, or Arthur as the experienced adults in their group. But not once did they consider that. Instead they looked to Harry for leadership, for direction. They looked to him, to the exclusion of all else and they would follow him over anyone else without hesitation or doubt.

A glance to her side showed Arthur beaming with pride at his sons and Sirius surreptitiously wiping a tear from his eye.

"All right," she said, knowing when she was beat. "But we're going to have to be smart about this, no matter what. That broom is a hell of a boon to have as well. I want you to take the high ground. Stay above us and call out warnings if you see trouble."

"I could attack the inferi from above too. That'd actually be the safest place to attack from and stay out of their reach."

Amelia immediately shook her head. "No. You're already injured, you need to focus on flying. What if you carried a passenger? You fly, they cast?"

He nodded, thinking it over. "Daphne's the lightest of us and she's left handed. If I needed to cast for any reason we'd be the least likely to get in each other's way. But Hermione has the best aim."

"I couldn't, Harry," Hermione immediately protested, shivering at the very idea. "It was all I could do to hold onto you on the way up here. I wouldn't be able to focus to cast any spells."

"I'll do it," Daphne said, confidently. "Just don't go too fast and I should be able to hit a target."

They quickly figured out the rest of their plan as Daphne climbed onto the broom behind him, a quick sticking charm to help hold her in place and free up her hands if needed and within minutes they were ready to go.

#####

She had no time to react as the creature charged them. She simply clutched her sister tightly as a horrible sensation filled her. She'd failed. She'd promised her sister they would be safe, and she just broke her promise. She wanted to apologize. She wanted to close her eyes, but she was frozen in terror as Death rushed toward them.

A flash of color caught her eye and she blinked in surprise as the inferius stumbled to a halt, only a few feet from them as a line of fire wrapped several times around its neck. Her eyes followed the line (recognizing it as the Flame Whip curse) to her left, and they widened in awe at the sight that greeted her.

Speeding towards them on the back of a broom were two figures. The flyer, a boy with a messy rats nest of hair the color of a raven's wings and eyes gleaming a brilliant green, was actually holding the other end of the whip in his _bare hand_. Behind him, one arm wrapped tightly around his waist, was a girl with the coldest blue eyes she had ever seen and long, honey blond hair that streamed out behind her like a banner due to their passage through the air.

Her full lips moved, forming the words to a spell she couldn't hear and a gout of flames erupted from her wand, heading off to their left at a target outside of her line of sight. The girls face was twisted in rage, and his bore a furious expression that sent tremors through Fleur's body.

The broom rocketed past her and her sister, the wind from their passage ruffling her hair and robes as he yanked on his end of the whip with all his strength and an inarticulate roar of rage. The creature was pulled away from them, its head suddenly separating from the rest of its body to arc high into the air, dropping out of sight somewhere in the lower levels.

The whip disappeared and the boy grabbed hold of the broom with both hands, jerking it up into a vertical stall. They slid forward another half a dozen feet even as they spun around one-hundred-eighty degrees on the vertical and he pushed the handle down, shooting back the way they'd just come as the blond whipped her wand through the motions of a familiar spell.

"Conflegrante!" she bellowed as another river of fire poured from the tip of her wand, quickly incinerating the body.

The entire incident took only a handful of seconds, and Fleur Delacour was left in awe of their two saviors. The power, skill, and precision they displayed. The righteous fury they showed at the abominations of the undead…

No… she wasn't in awe, she decided as she lifted her sister and climbed to her feet.

She was in love.

#####

"It's a good thing I had that sticking charm," Daphne muttered as Harry turned again to head back toward the girls they'd just saved. "That last turn back there would have thrown me off, otherwise."

"Sorry about that," Harry said. "I'm still getting used to this broom, it's got a _lot_ of power."

"You're forgiven," she said. "Though, under better circumstances, I think I'd love to go flying with you again."

"Deal," he said, grinning back at her over his shoulder before bringing the broom to a stop a few feet from the two girls. One, he noted, was older than they were. She was tall and slender and possessed a figure he knew most of his dorm mates would drool over. Her hair was a long, silvery blond that fell in waves past her waist and her eyes were the color of sapphires. The second girl looked rather like a miniature version of the first, probably eight, maybe nine years of age. Sisters, perhaps? There was no way the older girl could have been the younger's mother, Harry decided.

The elder of the two set the little girl down, leaning down to murmur quietly to her for a moment before she straightened up and walked up to them, just as the broom came to a stop. Before they could do or say anything, she reached out, wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and pulled him into a searing kiss.

His eyes shot wide open as her soft lips found his and a warm, nimble tongue suddenly invaded his mouth as the nameless girl seemingly attempted to devour him.

Behind him on the broom, Daphne was similarly frozen in shock. That quickly gave way to outrage, however, and she was just about to voice her fury with the girl's actions when she suddenly separated from Harry and turned her attention to Daphne, pulling her into a similarly passionate lip lock.

As with Harry, Daphne froze in surprise, only snapping out of her daze when the girl's tongue pushed past her lips and into her mouth.

 _Shock,_ she thought. _This has to be because of shock._

A moment later, the kiss ended and the girl took a step back, her pale face flushed, eyes bright. She was breathless, panting slightly, and her well developed breasts heaved up and down beneath her light robes with each frantic breath.

Then she spoke, in probably the most melodious voice either of them had ever heard. The problem for Daphne was that every word was spoken in rapid-fire French.

Without thinking, Harry responded in kind.

" _Miss,_ " he said. _"Miss, please slow down. You're talking too fast and I can't understand you."_

She stopped, taking several deep breaths to calm herself while Harry continued to speak in slightly accented French. He was completely ignorant of the questioning look that Daphne was directing at the back of his head.

" _Are you hurt?"_ Harry asked the little girl in a gentle tone while her sister finished gathering her wits. She shook her head, clutching tightly to her sisters robes, but said nothing.

" _Thank you, both, for saving us,"_ the other girl finally said at a speed that Harry could keep up with, drawing their attention back to her. _"I was caught by surprise and I just didn't have time to react."_

Harry waved away her thanks as the rest of their group reached them. What had started out as a group of thirteen with the ten students and three adults had swelled to nearly forty people. Most of them had some minor injuries, though, luckily, it appeared as if Harry's knee was the worst of them. Everyone else was at least mobile without aid.

Neville had a scratch on one cheek and the rest of them looked a bit disheveled after the last forty-five minutes spent carefully working their way down the stadium levels and Susan and Hermione immediately came up to stand by Harry and Daphne. Susan place one hand, almost possessively on Harry's shoulder as Hermione took one of Daphne's hands in her hold, squeezing gently and leaning over to place a kiss on the girl's cheek.

" _It's not a problem at all, we saw you fall just as we got to this level,"_ Harry said, oblivious to the curious look the girl gave the four of them. _"We've been trying to clear these things out and help anyone we can on our way down. My name is Harry and this is Daphne."_ He quickly went on to introduce the rest of them, ending with, " _and that's Sirius Black, be careful of him, he's trouble."_

"What's that you're saying about me, Pup?" Sirius asked, grinning broadly at Harry.

"All good things, Padfoot, I swear," he shot back with an answering grin of his own and beside him, Hermione snorted out a laugh. Sirius' grin turned into a frown as he realized he probably shouldn't trust what his godson was saying and assume he was trying to get him into trouble.

" _I am Fleur Delacour, and this is my sister, Gabrielle,"_ Fleur said, somewhat intrigued by the by-play.

" _It's nice to meet you Fleur, Gabrielle,"_ Hermione cut in, her French noticeably smoother than Harry's. _"Are either of you hurt?"_

Fleur shook her head, her long hair swaying with the motion. "Non," she said. _"No, we are unharmed."_

" _Good. Um… do you speak any English? It looks like Hermione and I can translate if we need to but I don't know if any of the others understand French,"_ Harry asked, almost apologetically.

"Oui, I do speak English, zough Gabrielle does not," she responded in heavily accented English. "It is not my best language, but well enough, I zink."

"Good to hear. You're welcome to stick with us until we get out of here. Did you have family here with you, or is it just you two?"

"Our fazer is 'ere, somewhere. 'E is with ze French Ministry so 'is staff might 'ave sent 'im away by Portkey, but I do not know for certain. I 'ad taken Gabrielle to ze restroom and we were just returning when everyzing 'appened, so we were already separated from 'im."

"Standard procedure in these kinds of events is to get all government officials out as quickly as possible so staff can focus on everyone else," Amelia cut in, moving to the front of the group. "Would your father be Sebastian Delacour, by any chance?"

"Oui, Madame," she said. "Do you know 'im?"

"I know of him. My job with the DMLE puts me into contact with foreign Ministries on occasion and your father is rather well regarded in the law enforcement community. Head of the French Auror Division isn't a position reached easily."

Harry glanced over his shoulder, noticing some of the others they'd picked up looking restless and he turned his attention back to the situation at hand.

"We should keep moving, Amy," he said in a low murmur. "The natives are getting restless and we've only got a few levels to go."

"I think I'll get down and walk from here," Daphne spoke up as Amelia nodded and she canceled the sticking charm that was holding her to the broom, letting Hermione help her down.

"What was with that kiss?" Hermione murmured in her ear and Daphne flushed brightly.

"I have no idea," she whispered back. "She just grabbed Harry and then me. I'm thinking she was just in shock and hoping to leave it at that. There's only two girls I want kissing me, and she isn't one of them."

Hermione's smile was loving and she resisted the urge to press her lips to the other girl's, rather devoting her attention to focusing on getting the hell out of that stadium. Somewhere below them they could hear the sound of spells being cast and the continued growling of the much reduced number of inferi.

The group continued forward with Harry floating along beside Amelia as the two of them talked in low voices. Down another level they went, burning three more inferi as they moved along.

"Why does 'Arry continue to fly zat broom?" Fleur asked, falling into step beside Susan, who was walking along on Hermione's right side with Daphne bracketing the bushy haired witch on her left side.

"He hurt his knee earlier, saving Hermione," Susan informed her in a tight, clipped tone. She'd seen the girl kissing her bond mates as well, and was none too pleased with her. Much of her anger quickly bled away, though, when Hermione's hand slid into hers and squeezed reassuringly. "He can't really put any weight on it, so he's just been using the broom to get around instead," she finished the explanation, holding tightly to Hermione's hand.

"I know a few 'ealing spells," Fleur offered. "I could see about alleviating ze pain, at least?"

"I think that would be appreciated, thank you, Fleur," Hermione said and the French beauty nodded, moving up to walk beside Harry and Amelia as she made her offer.

"You know he's gonna say 'no'," Susan pointed out as the three of them watched.

"Of course he is. It's Harry," Hermione said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and indeed, as they watched, they could see Harry waving away the offer, though he smiled gently at Fleur to take any sting out of the denial.

"I wanted her to move away though to talk to you two, really fast," Hermione continued, bringing the girls attention back to her. "I'm not any happier about what she did than you are, Susan. But circumstances aren't normal, and I think, as long as she doesn't try anything else, we don't need to do anything. She and her sister are in a dangerous situation and she was extremely grateful to two people that'd just saved her life. We'll likely never see her again after this as well, so there's no reason to be so upset with her."

Susan frowned as Daphne remained silent. She didn't have to watch someone else kissing one of her bond mates, so kept her own opinion, even though she agreed with Hermione's assessment of the situation.

"All right," Susan finally said, agreeing as well. "I think we'll need to keep watch on some of the boys around her, though. I think she's at least part Veela. She may have her Allure under control right now, but if and when things get… exciting, again, that control may slip."

Daphne looked around, frowning, at some of the males among them.

"Yeah, that could get really ugly, really fast," she said, nodding toward a couple of guys they'd helped four levels up. The two were in their early twenties and appeared to be barely paying any attention to where they were going as they were too busy staring at Fleur's arse whenever the swaying curtain of her hair moved aside enough for that, admittedly, shapely part of her anatomy to be visible.

"Ron and the twins seemed the most susceptible earlier, too," Hermione pointed out. "Nothing to be done right now, though. We'll just have to keep aware."

Silence fell over most of the group as they carefully made their way, wands clutched firmly in hand, into the unknown.

#####

" _I don't give two rancid shits what you think, Nik! People are dying out there!"_

Nikola Bogdan, coach and manager of the Bulgarian National Quidditch team sighed in frustration and rubbed at his eyes for a moment before returning his attention to the angry teen in front of him.

'" _I am well aware of what is happening out there, Viktor, don't think I'm not,"_ he said. _"My eyes do still work, after all. And people dying is precisely why you are staying here. Your parents entrusted me with your care and I would be breaking that trust by letting you go out there."_

Viktor Krum scowled at the man he'd known since birth, the man he considered honorary uncle, and for a teen who naturally looked as if he had a perpetual scowl on his face, it was an impressive sight. However, it had absolutely no effect on Nikola, who had long become immune to the boy's fierce scowls and glares over their long association with each other.

" _You act is if I am not capable of handling myself,"_ he said. " _As if my father, member of the Home Guard, would not be proud of me to fight for the innocent."_

" _Not at all, Viktor, I just don't want you to get hurt, or die. I know you are skilled, but even the best may still fall."_

Viktor growled under his breath and stalked across the room, snatching up a pair of omnioculars from the top of the clubhouse desk as he passed and shoved them into Nikola's chest.

" _Watch the recording,"_ he snarled. _"Tell me what you see."_

Surprised by the sudden actions of his pseudo-nephew, Nikola fumbled the device, almost dropping them, before lifting them to his eyes as he pressed the button to play back the recording. While he watched, Viktor stomped his way over to the window and stared out at the bitch below, his own memory of the recording playing out in his mind's-eye

From the very window where he now stood, he'd made that recording, looking out across the ravaged pitch to the stands on the other side. A group of people had started moving down through the levels, perhaps ten, maybe fifteen minutes after the initial attack had begun. Three adults and ten teens, most of whom couldn't have been more than fourth year students, at best.

The thing that had most intrigued him was the obvious dynamic within the group. The red haired witch spoke and pointed out people or problems as they moved, but it was the black haired boy, mounted on a broom, that they followed. It was him they truly listened to. With a blond girl mounted behind him, the teen cut through the air, providing overwatch for their group as well as fire support when needed.

More than once, the boy had shown a commanding skill with the Flame Whip curse, leaving several headless inferi in his wake as they lead a growing number of people down and toward the exits. Viktor had been checking on their progress from time to time, between arguing with Nik.

" _I see people trying to escape,"_ Nikola finally said in answer to his initial question after watching a few minutes of the recording.

" _You see people helping others,"_ Viktor snapped. _"Not hiding behind wards, waiting for everything to be over. Look at the boy. That idea is brilliant, to use brooms for attack and observation. He has the best view of the terrain and he can attack from a safe distance when necessary."_

Frustrated, he spun and gestured to the room around them with a sweeping motion of one arm. _"We have six skilled flyers and some of the best brooms ever made!"_ he cried. _"We should be out there, helping, not hiding in here, like cowards."_

" _Viktor is right, Nikola,"_ Aleksandar said, shooting to his feet from where he'd been listlessly sitting on a stool, leaning against one wall. He was their teams second Beater, and had been friends with the, now dead member of their team, Milen, since they were both just boys. _"This attack cost Milen his life, and it has taken many others as well. If you won't let us save those we can, at least let us get some revenge for Milen."_

An angry murmur swept through the rest of the team and Nikola easily saw the writing on the wall. There was no way he would be able to keep them sequestered for much longer, and if they tried to overpower the wards he had placed to keep those things out and his team in… bad things could happen.

Letting out another frustrated sigh, Nikola caved and drew his wand to begin dismantling his wards. When he finished, he turned to face the youngest member of his team with a serious expression that was wholly out of place on his usually jovial face.

" _Keep in mind, that if you get hurt, I'm the one who will have to face your mother's wrath,"_ he said.

Viktor smiled and clapped the man on the shoulder.

" _Oh, ye of little faith, Nikola,"_ he said. _"We will show these British just how Durmstrang teaches us to deal with the Dark Arts."_ Grinning, he turned to his team and, with a wave of one arm, they all grabbed their brooms and followed the burly Seeker out of the room. In moments the six of them took to the air, fully intent on avenging their fallen teammate. Their friend.

#####

After having her offer of medical aid firmly, but politely, rebuffed by Harry, Fleur let Gabrielle and herself fall a touch behind, what appeared to be, the core group. There was a friendly middle aged wizard with bright, orange/red hair and three of the boys appeared to be his children, if their matching surnames were anything to go by. The twins, she felt, might be decent boys, and possibly friends. They were funny and though they were behaving quite seriously, it was clear that such a state of being did not come naturally, or comfortably, to either of them. They also appeared to be, somewhat successfully, fighting off the effects of her Allure, low as she had it. The youngest boy, though… the less she thought about him, the better, in her opinion. He was a drooling slob and she wanted to waste no more time on him than she had to.

The next three to fall under her scrutiny were two boys the same apparent age as the slob and a girl a bit younger than them. The boys showed a much greater will, however, than the slob did, to fight her Allure. Standing between them was the girl, a curiosity in and of herself. She had extremely pale blonde hair, nearly white, and the only words Fleur could think of to describe the girl were waifish, or perhaps, elfin, with her too large eyes and her mannerisms, completely lacking in guile. Something about the girl gave her a warm feeling that she couldn't quite figure out and, as she thought about it, the girl looked over her shoulder at Fleur, and smiled.

Shaking her head, she studied the last two adults as they worked their way around a tangle of bodies that had apparently fallen from one of the upper levels even as Fleur scooped her sister into her arms and pressed her face into her shoulder, hiding the sight from her as best she could.

Madam Bones was obviously of no relation to the four male redheads. The color of her hair, alone, precluded that possibility with it's much deeper and more vibrant shade. Fleur felt she could really like the woman. She appeared to be a no-nonsense kind of woman, skilled and competent, though she didn't seem to take herself too seriously.

The man, she gathered, was important to Harry. So was Madam Bones, for that matter, though how exactly she fit into the equation, she wasn't certain. The friendly banter between the two dark haired wizards, even amidst the death and chaos around them was indicative of a very special relationship, and it was the man's name that had given away the game to her.

France was not so far removed from Britain that they had not heard the story of the wrongful imprisonment of Sirius Black, and his easy manner with Harry was telling in the extreme. There was only one teen boy with black hair and green eyes that could possibly be so connected to the Lord Black.

Harry Potter.

Lord Harry James Potter, in fact.

 _Merde_ , she thought. _You just had to get your ass saved by THE Lord Potter._

With her thoughts now consumed by him, her attention focused on the young man, and the three girls that surrounded him like an honor guard. The lovely brunette, Hermione, walked to his right side, her wand in hand. Occasionally she would turn to whisper in his ear and he would either nod or respond with a few quiet words of his own before turning his attention back to their surroundings.

On his immediate left, another beauty, Susan Bones. Of the three of them, she was probably the most beautiful with her vibrant red hair, deep blue eyes, and an already full figure that Fleur knew would eventually rival her own as the girl grew. Of the four of them, Susan appeared to be the most nervous, her head jerking around at every strange sound as they walked. Frequently, and without even looking, Harry and Daphne on Susan's left side, would reach out to place a calming hand on her arm or shoulder, and at their touch, the tension would visibly drain from her tightly coiled muscles.

Daphne rounded out the four of them, shorter than the others and slender with her pale skin and long blonde hair she was just as beautiful as the other two girls in her own way, each of them possessing a different, but no less alluring appeal.

Three beautiful girls, yet Harry did not seem in the least distracted by their presence. In fact, the longer she watched, the more and more difficult it became to think of them as anything less than a unit. The lines blurred between the individuals as she observed how they interacted and behaved around each other. Daphne and Harry constantly scanned their surroundings, though it was clear that their purposes differed. Daphne appeared ready to defend as Fleur caught her practicing the wand motions to several different shielding charms as they moved, whereas Harry was tense, ready to spring forward on the attack at the slightest hint of danger

Yes. The four of them presented quite the puzzle for Fleur Delacour. The power Harry displayed attracted her like no other she had ever met. Even at the distance she was from him, she could feel it, humming beneath his skin and crackling in the air around him. A tightly coiled snake ready to strike. Danger and protection all wrapped together into a darkly dressed package that set her heart racing and her pulse pounding even as Daphne appeared more light and free, cold defense in the face of fire.

She wanted them, that she couldn't even pretend to deny.

But the four of them together… there was something there. Her senses were telling her something was going on between them that she wasn't, yet, aware of, and she wasn't sure if it was her place to interfere.

They reached another set of stairs and the three girls each kissed Harry's cheek before he rose into the air on his broom to scan the area below.

Right now was not the time to focus on such things, she decided, as a scream echoed up from somewhere in the distance. But later. Later she would attempt to puzzle out this mystery, and determine exactly where she might be able to fit into it.

#####

The wind ruffled his hair as Harry rose quickly into the air, his eyes scanning the surroundings carefully for anything that might pose a threat to their group. His hands gripped the handle of the broom tightly as it hummed under his palms, barely restrained power just waiting to be set free. Harry loved his Nimbus 2000, but he really could see the appeal to the Firebolt. It responded so easily to his commands, almost as if responding to his thoughts. The power and speed took some getting used to, but it handled beautifully and had been instrumental in how far they'd gotten with no serious injuries amongst them.

At the thought of injury his knee gave a painful throb, as if reminding him that not all was right with the world and he winced, resisting the urge to rub the affected joint. That would likely only make it hurt worse, he reminded himself.

Movement caught his attention out of the corner of his left eye and he spun the broom about, flicking his wrist to send his wand blank into his hand and he quickly adjusted his grip, laying his index finger along the length of Holly. It was the method he'd used to fake casting his patronus through the 'wand' during Sirius' trial. By laying his finger along the wood, he could cast from there and make it appear as if he was casting from his wand. It wasn't perfect, by any means. If anyone looked too closely they would be able to tell the spells weren't actually originating from the wands tip, but it was good enough for now so he stuck with it.

Six figures on brooms rose into the air from the far side of the stadium, about half way up, each dressed in the Quidditch robes of the Bulgarian National Team and his jaw dropped open as he realized they were heading toward him.

"Nie sme tuk, za da pomognem, ako mozhem," one of them called as they approached and Harry blinked in utter bewilderment.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't speak your language. Do any of you know English?"

The figure at the lead of the group moved closer and Harry's eyes widened slightly as he realized that it was Viktor Krum, the teams Seeker and probably the youngest professional player in the world.

"Dah," he said in a deep voice, his face stern as he came closer. "I do speak some English. My friend, Aleksandar. He say, we haff come to help. We do not like our manager keeping us in club house, while people are dying. We wish to help end these…" He spat out a word in Bulgarian that Harry didn't understand, but his tone of voice made it pretty clear that it wasn't pleasant.

"Help is always appreciated." Moving forward, Harry held out his right hand. "Harry Potter," he said and Viktor's eyes widened, much as his own had moments before before the larger boy reached out and accepted the offered hand in a firm shake.

"Viktor Krum." He gestured back to his teammates. "None of my friends speak English, but I shall do my best to… translate? Yes, translate."

"Do you and your friends know how to fight these things?"

Viktor nodded. "Fire is best way to deal with Inferi." His grin was nearly feral in appearance. "We are quite good with fire. We will help guard your group."

A small voice reached them from below and the two looked down to see a figure with red hair waving up at them with both arms.

"That's my guardian, Amelia Bones. Let's head down and see what she wants," Harry said and Viktor nodded, barking out a few commands to the rest of his team. The seven of them dropped quickly through the air, coming to a hover in front of the group of survivors and Amelia strode up to them with the girls flanking her.

"I see you've found some more friends," she said, smiling tightly at him and he nodded.

"Viktor Krum and the rest of his team," he said, by way of introduction.

She nodded briefly to them before turning her attention back to her ward. "We've got a problem," she said in a grim tone and Harry fought back the urge to groan, merely gesturing for her to continue. "Whoever cast that Dark Mark must have raised a new anti-apparition field. There were some set up over the stadium originally, but when I called for the Emergency Protocol, dropping those wards was one of the first things done. That's why I told people to apparate out, if they could. The fewer people we had in here the better. Right now though it looks like nearly a hundred people are gathering down on the pitch, and not heading for the exits. I don't know why, but I doubt it's anything good. If the exits are blocked or something, we have no easy way out of here."

Harry frowned, looking around at the rest of them.

"It'd take too long to try and ferry people out by broom, even with six extras on hand. Only thing we can do is go down and investigate, right?" he asked and she gave him a weary nod.

"Is there likely to be any command center set up outside for the Aurors? Anything like a central location to send people to that they'll be able to easily recognize?" he asked and she nodded again.

"Standard Operating Procedure has a command center and triage tend set up to deal with injuries and to coordinate manpower." She let out a frustrated sigh. "Which is actually something that concerns me."

"How so?"

"Amelia glanced at her watch. "It's been at least… an hour since you and Hermione went over the top of the wall," she said, ignoring the way that Viktor jerked in surprise and spun on his broom to stare at Harry. "That means that it's been over an hour since I called for the emergency protocol, but no reinforcements have shown up."

Harry frowned. "Yeah, that's not good," he muttered.

"All we can do right now is get down there," Amelia said, pointing to the slowly growing crowd of people on the pitch, "and find out what's going on."

Amelia started down the stairs toward the pitch as Harry's friends turned to look at him.

"Well?" he said in response to the enquiring expressions on their faces. "Let's get going?"

Without a word they started to follow after the red haired witch and Harry's attention was caught when several of the Bulgarian team members cursed and started handing galleons over to a smug looking Viktor Krum.

"What's that all about?" he asked, curiously, as they floated along after the other's while Krum pocketed his new wealth.

"I bet my teammates that you were the leader, here. Some of them did not believe me," he said, smirking at the younger teen.

"Leader? Me?" Harry gaped at the older boy in surprise. "I'm not the leader of anything," he protested.

"Yet your friends all turned to you, before following," Viktor pointed out. "You may not feel like leader, but they see you as one."

He pushed his way forward, leaving Harry to consider his words.

By the time they reached the pitch with the rest of their group, the total number was well over a hundred, and many of them looked more than a little scared. All of them were a mixture of dirty, disheveled, scraped, and bruised, though none appeared to be seriously injured, thankfully.

"Is anyone in charge, here?" Amelia asked as she came to a stop near the group, and a moment later an aristocratic looking man, wearing a formal looking uniform, stepped out of the crowd.

"Oui, Madame," he said in an extremely light French accent. "My name is-"

"Papa!"

Before the man could finish, a loud cry cut him off as little Gabrielle spotted the man and she leaped out of her sisters arms to sprint across the torn grass toward him.

"Gabrielle?" he gasped out, his mouth dropping open in surprise just before she plowed into his midsection, babbling incoherently in broken, tearful sobs. Fleur followed her sister at a more reasonable, yet still hurried, pace, and within moments the three of them were wrapped in a tight embrace.

It took them a few minutes to gather themselves, but the man, obviously their father, was a practical individual and he quickly returned to business, though he did so with Gabrielle held tightly in his arms and his eldest daughter standing close beside him.

"My apologies," he said in a choked voice. "I am Sebastian Delacour, Head of the French Auror Division."

"No apologies necessary, Monsieur Delacour," Amelia told him, smiling gently before introducing herself and the rest of their main group, minus those they'd picked up on their way down.

"What's the situation?" she asked, after the introductions and Sebastian's face twisted with distaste.

"There are four troll inferi blocking each of the exits, no idea where they were earlier, but they have arrived since the anti-apparition wards went up. It's not a very strong ward, but just enough to make it inadvisable for most people to try to power their way through. They wouldn't manage without splinching something," he explained and Amelia let out a surprised whistle when he used the words 'troll' and 'inferi' in the same sentence. With how resistant to magic a troll was it took some serious power to make one into an inferius.

With each exit blocked, and fire being less likely to work quite as well as it shouldn't against a troll… getting everyone left out just became a lot more difficult than she'd expected it to be.

"Why not just blast through the wall over there?" Harry asked from where he'd been hovering nearby, listening to their conversation as he pointed to the stretch of wall directly behind the Irish goal hoops. "There's no seats right behind the posts, so that's where the wall is the thinnest, and it's a good distance away from the trolls. If people are ready to run as soon as a breach is made they can make for the portkey and appartition sites in order to get out of here."

"The walls were warded to resist damage during the stadium's construction," Amelia informed him."

"Yeah, Pup. That's pretty standard with magical construction like this place. They wouldn't want anyone accidentally, or intentionally causing the kind of damage your talking about."

"But the wall is still wood, right?" Harry asked, thoughtfully.

"Yes, but trying to set them on fire won't help either."

"I wasn't thinking of fire," he admitted as he turned to face the girls, an apologetic expression on his face.

"Harry, you can't be serious," Hermione started.

"Not a word out of you!" Daphne added, sharply, as she jabbed a finger in Sirius' direction. The Marauder closed his mouth, grinning broadly even as he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"I am," Harry was saying in response to Hermione's question. "We have to get out of here, and how many people do you think there are that know the spell?"

"But the recoil…"

"I know, lemme talk to Viktor."

Hermione frowned, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth while Susan groaned in obvious dismay. Behind the girls, Neville was asking if anyone could conjure or transfigure a small sofa, to the confusion of many of those present.

Harry flew over to Viktor while Sebastian, Amelia, and Sirius looked on in confusion, feeling that they were being sidelined somehow while a plan they had no clue about was being worked out.

Looking as confused as everyone else, Viktor began asking question of Harry while Amelia walked over to the girls for an explanation.

"What is going on?" she asked. "He can't think he's going to Reductor a hole through those walls, they're designed to resist damage exactly like that, I told him that already."

The three girls were already sitting together on the provided sofa. It was a bit wobbly, and very simple in its design, but it did the job it was intended to do, and that was all they needed.

"Not a Reductor," Susan responded. "But he's planning on doing something stupid," she added, looking over to where their bond mate, still in discussion with Viktor was rising into the air, along with the rest of the Bulgarian team. Viktor appeared skeptical of what Harry was saying, but still, they complied with his directions.

"Crap," Daphne suddenly blurted out. "Does anyone know how to treat a dislocated shoulder?" she asked of the crowd. Amidst murmurs of denial, Sebastian stepped forward.

"I have always excelled at battlefield medicine," he said. "Who has a dislocated shoulder?"

"Harry is probably about to," Hermione said, worriedly watching the sky.

"What in Morgana's name is that idiot going to do?" Amelia demanded, her temper finally starting to get the better of her as the situation spiralled further out of her control.

Susan's response did absolutely nothing to reassure her. "Siege Engine," she said, then the three of them clutched tightly to each other and appeared to be bracing themselves, their eyes never leaving the speck in the air that was Harry Potter.

"Oh, crap," she muttered, and turned her attention to the sky as well.

" _Papa, what is he doing?"_ Fleur asked, sidling up to her father as most of the people around them started paying more and more attention to what was going on in the sky above their heads.

" _I am not entirely certain,"_ he muttered back. _"But I think we're about to find out. Here, take your sister. I think my medical skills are about to be needed."_

The six members of the team were spacing themselves out, wands in hand and each of them watching Harry like a hawk as, moments later, he suddenly dropped out of the sky. Rapidly approaching the ground the broom leveled off about fifteen feet above their heads, streaking toward the stadium wall.

Thirty feet from it, Harry bellowed out the incantation to a spell that everyone present was easily able to hear with perfect clarity.

" **Destruere Muros!"**

Amelia recognized the spell, and as the words flitted across her consciousness everything she knew about the spell filled in as well. The Siege Engine spell. Incantation: Destruere Muros. Literally translated, it meant 'destroy walls' and that was precisely what the spell did. Like muggle siege engines of the middle ages, the spell created a large burst of power that would strike with all the force of a giant boulder. It was meant to breach fortified locations during battles centuries ago. The difference between the siege engine and the actual machines that launched giant rocks was in the magic.

The spell was designed specifically for magically warded walls, just like the stadium wall Harry was attacking. Just in front of the crushing blast that would strike the wall was a razor sharp spike of magic, meant to pierce and weaken the warding on the walls an instant before impact. The dual nature of the attack meant that it would easily breach most fortifications.

But the spell had several drawbacks that meant it wasn't used for long and quickly fell out of favor in the end. First was the amount of raw power needed to use it. Not many witches or wizards could cast the Siege Engine without exhausting themselves. Second was the recoil. The blast of power usually sent the caster flying, resulting in severe injury, more often than not.

When the spell, an azure orb of screaming eldritch fire, easily four feet across, struck the base of the wall, the sound it made was incredible. A thunderous boom shattered the air around them and had most of the people standing around instinctively clutching their hands over their ears in pain.

Despite having her own ears covered, Amelia was still easily able to hear the three girls on the small sofa letting out their own screams of pain, though theirs sounded more immediate and she turned to find them each clutching their own right shoulders, faces screwed up and eyes clenched tightly shut. A glance at the sky showed Harry pinwheeling through the air, stuck to his broom by way of another sticking charm and it was only the quick action of several of the Bulgarian flyers that kept him from slamming into the ground as they caught him with a few deft waves of their wands.

It was only after they removed him from the broom and brought an unconscious Harry Potter over to lay him down on the grass near them that she looked back at the wall where his spell had struck, her eyes widening as she took in the damage. The hole ripped into the base of the wall was easily twenty feet wide and half that high, the edges charred black and the ground beneath had a deep channel dug into it that lead out onto the grounds.

"Holy buggering shite!" Sirius barked out and she could only nod in stunned agreement.

Before anyone else could say anything, there was a surge of motion as the crowd moved toward the opening, some of them at a run. Cries of joy quickly turned to screams of pain and horror as a wave of inferi poured through the opening and crashed into the those in the lead. Amelia's wand shot into her hand with a flick of her wrist and her world narrowed down into a sharp focus on one goal.

Staying alive.

#####

Harry's eyes snapped open, glowing brightly and he tried to sit up when hands suddenly held him down. Pain tore through his body and he struggled against the hands in a moment of blind terror before a voice cut through his confusion.

"Harry! Calm down! It's me, Susan, and Mister Delacour, he's trying to heal your shoulder."

Harry immediately stilled at Susan's words and he relaxed back against the ground, he realized, based on the smell of the grass, turning his head toward where her voice had originated.

She was kneeling on his left side, one hand on his chest, her deep blue eyes fixed on his face even as she held her own right arm close to her side, as if in pain.

"I'm sorry," he said, barely conscious of the figure moving on his right side, a wand waving over his injuries. "I didn't want to hurt you girls, but…"

"It was the only way, I know," she assured him with a small, tight smile. "I wish it wasn't necessary but… well, at least we were prepared for it, this time," she finished. Toward the end of their previous year, Harry had finally succeeded in casting the extremely difficult Siege Engine, and the result had been three days in the hospital wing recovering from another dislocated shoulder and several badly broken bones. The three of them had been wholly unprepared for the result of the spell and had collapsed from the pain tearing across their bond when the recoil had thrown Harry bodily through the air to smash hard into one of the stone walls in the Room of Requirement.

The rest of them had given up on trying to learn that particular spell after that, deciding the downsides just weren't worth the potential benefit. Hermione had been quite upset that the book they'd found the spell in hadn't made more of a point to detail those downsides before they'd spent so much time working on the bloody thing.

Harry's wince had her gently running her hand across his chest in a soothing gesture and a moment later there was a loud pop and Harry grunted, even as she let out a small groan from the brief flare of pain in her own shoulder as his was pushed back into its socket.

"We can't have you in a sling, Monsieur Potter," Sebastian said as he conjured bandages to wrap tightly around Harry's chest and shoulder. "A little support would not be amiss, however. I have already repaired much of the damage to your knee, as well. You should be able to walk on it though I imagine it will still be tender."

Harry turned his head to the man beside him and nodded his thanks as Susan helped him to sit up. As he did so he finally took notice of the chaos around them. Daphne and Hermione stood near his feet, Daphne shielding while Hermione cast banishing charms to knock away charging inferi where she would then burn them with a well place Incendio or the Conflegrante spell that Daphne had used while riding with him on the broom. Amelia and Sirius stood behind him, covering their backs as Gabrielle huddled near her father and Fleur shrieked in rage, throwing balls of flame from her hands at the undead.

"What the hell happened?" he asked, looking around sharply for the rest of their friends. Neville and Blaise stood back to back with Luna beside them, wands dancing back and forth as they kept the inferi at bay and Luna burned them to ash whenever she could. On his other side a few paces away, Arthur Weasley stood with his three youngest sons against the monsters around them.

"Soon as you breached the wall a horde of them rushed in here," Susan informed him and he grunted, pushing himself to his feet. A low growl reached them and he looked up, instinctively banishing an inferi that was charging at his girls, followed up with an incendio the size of a quaffle that rapidly reduced the abomination to a pile of ash.

A twinge of pain shot through his shoulder, but it was nothing he couldn't handle, and he focused his attention for just a moment, bringing his Occlumency up as strong as he could to block the pain from the girls. A small sigh of relief from Susan told him he'd been successful and he brought his attention back to the world around them.

Around them, much of the group they'd gathered in their trek down from the upper reaches of the stadium were fleeing from the inferi in terror. Not a single one of them drew a wand, though he noticed the Bulgarians strafing the undead from the sky, fire spewing forth from their wands.

"Where's the broom?" he asked, only to have Susan shake her head.

"No flying for you. Your shoulder won't take that stress right now and you're done. Mister Delacour said that you drained a lot of magic on that Siege Engine, you need to take it easy."

"I can't take it easy when we're fighting for our lives, Susan," he said, urgently, but as calmly as he could lest she think he was upset with her.

"Look, it's almost over," she shot back, firmly. "You can't save everyone, Harry. You can't do everything alone. Stay here, with us, help if you want or can, but you can't go tearing off."

"What about them?" he demanded, pointing at the fleeing people that were being pursued by more of the undead.

As he spoke, a river of fire fell from the sky and two of the flyers swept past, burning the inferi on the ground to ash before they shot off toward the fleeing crowd, picking off any more of the undead that they could find as they went.

With no other arguments, pain and exhaustion clawing at the edges of his mind, Harry finally conceded defeat and focused his attention on what was in front of him, though truthfully, there was little for him to do. With Sebastian joining the fight, Amelia, Sirius and Arthur worked with the twins and even Ron to keep any of the inferi away from their group and, minutes after waking, there was nothing left to fight. In the distance, Harry could still make out brief flashes of fire as the flyers continued to hunt down the stragglers, but eventually, even that faded, leaving only the moans and screams of the injured.

"Sirius, I need to stay here and start cleanup. Also I need to find out what the hell is keeping the rest of my Aurors," Amelia said, somewhere off in the distance, to Harry's awareness. "Get the kids back to the tent with Arthur and get them the hell out of here. Our return portkey should be on the table in the tent I was going to share with the girls. It'll activate with a wand tap…"

Whatever else she said faded away and Harry was only barely aware of the activity that next took place. Later he would hold vague memories of walking through a ravaged tent city, fires smoldering here and there, bodies laying on the ground as people moved back and forth, looking to help, or perhaps searching for loved ones.

Eventually something was pressed against his hand and he felt a sensation like a hook behind his navel as the world around him dissolved into a spinning chaos. Luckily, before he could vomit, he lost consciousness, gratefully allowing the blackness to wash over him.


	48. Summer's End

**Author's Notes: The Rotten Writer here again ladies and gentlemen. Sorry about the delay on this chapter. It's been a rough few weeks and I'll admit, I also got distracted by a shiny new story idea that I've been working on on the side.**

 **Finally getting back into the swing of things here and looking forward to getting on with Fourth Year for our favorite bonded quartet. This chapter finally moves us along. Not exceptionally long but should be a good bit to hold you guys until I get the next chapter out and we start delving into the nitty and gritty. As I've said before, this is the last year that should be sticking even close-ish to canon but I've already shown what some of the changes are going to be in this chapter alone and I look forward to hearing what you guys think about it.**

 **Disclaimer: I own not the Harry Potter franchise**

 **Here it is, Chapter 47 of Soul Scars. Enjoy.**

Soul Scars Part Four

Allegria

by,

Rtnwriter

The morning after the Quidditch World Cup came early for Harry Potter. His glowing green eyes greeted the world at a quarter past four in the morning, and he blinked several times as he attempted to take in his surroundings. It was clear to him in an instant that he was in his room back at the Boneyard, though exactly how he got there was decidedly _un_ clear.

His last truly clear memories were not long after he'd cast the Siege Engine spell, followed by only vague recollections and snippets of memories before spinning blackness had overcome him. As his mind slowly became more awake he finally took notice of a, somewhat, familiar sight that he'd been too distracted to note, at first.

A cloud of brown strands partially obscured his vision and he blinked again, this time in confusion. His mind connected the dots slowly, coming up with only one possible answer.

 _Hermione?_ he thought in bleary confusion. He was lying on his left side as she laid on her right, so that they were facing each other, and his eyes shifted down slightly, taking in his bond mates sleeping face, for a moment before he started to become aware of even more changes in his usual sleeping arrangements; Namely that there was a slim arm wrapped around his chest coming from behind him.

Gingerly lifting the arm wrapped around him, he sat up in the bed and turned to find Susan had been spooned up against his back with Daphne asleep on her stomach, laying just beyond the redhead.

 _What in Merlin's name is going on, here?_ he wondered, while simultaneously thanking every deity there had ever been, was, or ever would be, that he'd woken before them. Stifling a pained groan as his shoulder and knee both protested his actions, he hoped to escape before any of the girls had noticed a certain embarrassing morning condition to which males are prone.

It took several minutes of careful, painful navigation, but eventually he climbed over the foot of the bed and turned back in time to see Hermione unconsciously sliding into the warm spot he'd left behind, curling into Susan with her head resting on the redhead's well developed chest. A brilliant flush, instantly, bloomed into existence on his face, seeing his girls so intimately entwined with each other and he shook his head violently before he straightened up, unable to stop the groan that time as his weight settled on his bad knee.

"I'm much too young, to feel this damn old," he muttered, quoting a song he vaguely remembered hearing sometime before he received his Hogwarts Letter, while he shuffled his way to the restroom, to cautiously take care of his morning business. It was when he turned to wash his hands, and finally got a good look at himself in the mirror, that he really took stock of the damage he'd done to himself.

He was shirtless, and wearing a pair of dark grey sweatpants and the lack of a shirt clearly showed the massive bruising around his shoulder and the upper-right part of his chest. He winced sharply, deciding the worst bruising must have been the result of not getting the kind of quick medical treatment that was available at school. The bruises were impossible to avoid with the kind of injury he'd received, and he knew Madam Pomfrey would have already had at least one application of bruise salve applied, so they wouldn't be quite as dark the day after, as they are currently.

"I'm not even going to wonder who changed my clothes and simply choose to believe that Sirius did it," he mused. He shuffled his way back into his bedroom from the bathroom before moving toward his closet; Running or exercising was obviously out of the question, he decided after a few moments of thought, but the idea of not doing _any_ of his usual morning routine just didn't sit well with him; so he pulled out a short sleeved shirt, and set about painfully pulling the soft material on, even though it felt rather uncomfortable against his bruises.

With his shirt on, he decided to leave the sweat pants as they were and then eyed his trainers and dragon hide boots where they were lined up against the wall near the door. Looking back and forth from the shoes to his bare feet several times, he finally decided that he would be going without, as attempting to pull them on would likely be more trouble than they were worth. He left the room as quietly as he could and slowly made his way downstairs and out into the backyard.

By the time he got there, sweat was standing out on his forehead and he was panting slightly from the exertion; but he pushed his discomfort aside and kept going until he was able to sit on the stone wall that bordered the patio. The ever burning flame in the fire pit behind him danced cheerfully as he took a moment to relax and breathe in some of the slightly cooler, early morning air suffusing the area before the heat of the day could start to kick in and burn away the calming ambiance.

After several minutes, he finally felt ready and, gritting his teeth through the pain, he lifted his right arm to point his hand toward one of the distant target dummies they had scattered about the yard.

"Diffindo."

#####

At five in the morning, Hermione's eyes fluttered open. She laid perfectly still for several moments in confusion about a strange feeling of emptiness, before she shot up out of Susan's arms into a sitting position on the bed, her eyes darting around wildly even as Susan groaned at the disturbance and rolled away from her and toward a bleary eyed Daphne.

"Wake up," Hermione said, reaching out to give the redhead's upturned bum a solid slap. She smirked briefly at the surprised yelp the action elicited. "Harry's gone," she commented. The worry lacing her voice succeeded in quickly rousing both of the other girls before all three of them scrambled out of the bed.

Rushing into the kitchen a few minutes later, they found the back door standing open. Flashing lights and noise drew them outside, only to encounter Sirius standing on the back patio watching a sweat soaked Harry Potter as their bondmate sat on the wall, methodically sending spell after spell hurtling across the yard at various target dummies.

"I found him like this about twenty minutes ago," Sirius said without turning to look at them. "No idea how long he's been out here."

Hermione sighed, a sound of mixed relief and exasperation and moved past the man to approach Harry, hesitantly reaching out to take his shaking arm in her hands once she was close enough to do so. The moment she touched him, the spells stopped and the only sound was his harsh, ragged breathing.

"Hey," he murmured as she gently lowered his arm to his side.

Her response came out as a whisper, "hey, yourself."

"Did I wake you?"

She shook her head as Susan and Daphne joined them at the wall. "No, we were just... worried when you weren't in bed with us."

He blinked and finally turned to face her more fully. "Worried? Why?" he asked, clearly confused.

"We don't like seeing you wallow like this, Harry," Daphne explained.

"And you're injured," Susan felt the distinct need to point out, frowning at him in a manner disturbingly reminiscent of Madam Pomfrey.

"Wallow?" He blinked again, looking completely bewildered for a moment before his confusion suddenly melted away into understanding. "You thought I was feeling guilty," he said, a clear statement instead of a question and the girls nodded. His smile was gentle and genuine and he lifted his good hand up to gently cup Hermione's cheek.

"I get it," he told them, his eyes darting to each of them for a moment before returning to her cinnamon gaze. "After helping Neville when he felt guilty last year… I get it. I didn't cause the attack. Yes, there were people we couldn't save, and I feel awful about that, but I managed to save you. I know I did the best I could. I've been thinking about it since I came out here and I _know_ I did the best that I could. We all did. So I don't have anything to feel guilty about. Not this time."

"Well… what are you doing out here then, if not beating yourself up?" Susan asked the question they were all thinking.

He shrugged his good shoulder. "I woke up really early. I can't run or workout. It just didn't feel right to not do _any_ work at all, you know? So I figured spell practice was my best bet."

Behind them, Sirius started chuckling. "You had us worried, Pup," he said, his dark eyes still worried despite the cheerful tone of voice. "Why don't you go shower and then come back down to the parlor? I'll see if Madam Pomfrey can make a house call."

Harry grimaced at that, which saw a return of Sirius' barking laugh, and even brought a smile to the girl's faces. With a sigh of resignation followed by a pained groan, he stood and slowly limped his way into the house.

"No, Sirius," Susan said after Harry was gone.

"I didn't say anything," he protested.

"No, but you were going to. Harry takes great pains to hide the scars. The only reason you saw them is because you changed his clothes last night. He's comfortable here, and probably didn't even think about the fact that his shirt had short sleeves. If he hasn't told you, yet, we're not going to. You'll have to ask him, yourself."

"If he doesn't want to tell you," Hermione added, "and you continue to pester him about them, I _will_ find a way to make sure that every time you turn into Padfoot, your fur will be glow-in-the-dark pink."

With his hands held out in front of him, Sirius slowly backed into the house, leaving the girls alone with the coming dawn as he went to Floo call Madam Pomfrey.

#####

"Well," Madam Pomfrey said nearly an hour later after she finished examining Harry. "I'm not sure who treated you, but for a bit of emergency first aid, they did a damn good job," she admitted. "Unfortunately, emergency first aid is not the same thing as proper healing. You'll need to rest that arm and shoulder for at _least_ two weeks-"

"Two _weeks?!"_ Harry burst out, cutting her off then cringing when she turned a gimlet eye on him for his rudeness.

"At least," she confirmed. "The emergency measures taken were adequate but insufficient to promote good healing.

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out several potions and a very familiar looking jar of bruise salve. She handed the jar off to Hermione, who was barely hiding an amused smirk at the several disgusted faces Harry was making at the sight of the many potions.

"Make all the faces you want, Harry," Madam Pomfrey said without looking up from her bag. "But you'll be drinking these potions if I have to tie you down and force feed them to you."

"I never said I wouldn't take them," he muttered sullenly, then winced when he tried to cross his arms over his chest and his shoulder twinged in pain. "Doesn't mean I have to like them."

By the time Madam Pomfrey left, the Sun was well above the horizon and the smell of breakfast cooking was wafting from the direction of the kitchen.

"Breakfast?" Harry asked of the group as he slowly pushed himself to his feet. His knee twinged a few times but he was able to walk without limping.

"You should be resting," Sirius pointed out.

"Walking to the kitchen isn't going to overly tax me, Sirius," Harry countered. "It's breakfast time, and I'm hungry, so I'm going to the kitchen."

As he walked away, Harry felt a certain satisfaction that he'd been able to curb the initial response that had wanted to fly from his lips and change it into something else before he actually spoke. He didn't think 'I'll rest when I'm dead,' would have gone over well with the girls; or Sirius, for that matter.

It didn't take long before he heard the sound of several different sets of footsteps behind him, but he paid them no mind as he pressed on into the kitchen where to take a seat in front of a plate already piled high with his favorites. A cup of coffee appeared near his good hand as the others took their seats.

The five of them ate in _almost_ complete silence for a while and Harry couldn't help but wonder over their strange behavior. Normally the girls were talkative during breakfast, discussing any number of topics, and Sirius usually seemed as if he was physically incapable of being quiet when there was an audience to potentially entertain.

"Okay, what the hell is going on with the four of you?" he finally demanded after the eerie silence had stretched into it's tenth minute. "Why are you all watching me as if you're waiting for me to do a trick or something?"

"Sorry, Harry," Susan muttered, ducking her head slightly as she spoke. "It's just… it's a little strange to see you so calm after something like last night. You always blame yourself for things so much, we thought you'd be taking this a bit harder."

He sighed and set down his fork. "I already said I get it. I understand why you'd worry but… well…. It's not that I'm not upset, because I am, but there is literally not one thing that I can do to change any of it, so I decided not to let it rule me. All I can do is get better, get stronger, get faster... and maybe the next time something bad happens I can help more people than I managed to help last night."

He turned his attention back to his food and the conversation slowly began to pick up as the girls started discussing what plans they might have for the last few weeks of summer before the four of them had to return to school. Sirius kept his silence however, his eyes rarely straying far from Harry, one leg jittering anxiously under the table.

"What happened?" he finally burst out, unable to contain himself any longer.

The look Harry directed toward his godfather was more than a little confused and he didn't notice the girls tensing as Sirius' dark eyes remained fixed wholly on him.

"What're you talking about?" Harry asked, his confusion coloring his voice.

"What happened to you, Harry?" Sirius demanded hotly. "There's no way a kid your age gets that kind of damage, not even with the stories you told. You can't have earned _that_ many damn scars!"

With that, Harry felt realization dawning and a shiver ran down his spine; as if someone had just poured a bucket of icy cold water over his head.

"Leave it," he muttered, turning his attention back to his plate. Realizing his bare forearms were fully in view, he had to resist the urge to smack himself upside the head for being an idiot.

"I'm not going to 'leave it'," Sirius snapped, slamming both hands flat on the table and pushing himself to his feet. "I'm not a complete idiot, Harry. I know what those kinds of scars mean. I want to know what happened and who did it."

"Why? So you can go tearing off to get revenge and get yourself thrown in prison again?" Harry snapped, noting how Sirius flinched slightly at the words out of the corner of his eye. His blazing green eyes turned to glare furiously into the man's surprised yet worried grey ones. "It happened. It's done with. I don't want to talk about it."

"Too Merlin-be-damned bad, kid. You're a minor, and I should have been your guardian. I should have been there so this wouldn't have happened to you, and I want to know who did that to you!"

"So it's not about concern for me, it's about your own guilt. You feel bad that you did something stupid and couldn't take care of me. You want something to work out that guilt on. Nothing to do with me, just your own selfish need," Harry practically growled, rising slowly to his feet as the table settings and silverware began to shake and jump on the table. He placed both his hands flat on the table, most of his weight resting on his left arm and leaned toward Sirius.

"You want to know all about it?" he snarled. "You want to hear what happened? That I was tied to a post and whipped bloody? Beaten with fists, feet, and whatever object that could be found at hand? That what you want to hear, Sirius _fucking_ Black? You want to hear about how I lived in my own personal hell because _you_ couldn't get your head out of your ass long enough to think about someone other than _yourself_?"

Sirius flinched repeatedly as Harry spoke, his complexion growing paler and paler until he slowly sank into his chair; his complexion looking as sallow as a certain Potions Master they were all unfortunately familiar with.

"I just… I wanted to…" Sirius trailed off and Harry snorted derisively.

"You know what suicide is, Sirius? You know what that word means?"

Sirius nodded his head silently.

"Just try to imagine how bad life would have to be for a _nine-year-old_ to want to try to kill himself just to get away from it!" he roared and then fell silent, glaring furiously at the man, his pulse pounding in his ears, chest heaving with every ragged breath, and his face flushed. Slowly he pushed himself back from the table until he was standing completely straight and with a flick of his finger his sleeves grew down to cover his arms to the wrists.

"When you're done eating, Black. I think you should leave," he said in a flat, quiet tone before he turned and started walking toward the back door.

"Harry… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" he started as Harry opened the door.

"Sirius?" the younger man interrupted.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck you." Harry said angrily as he stepped out and closed the door behind him.

A deathly silence filled the room for several minutes before the girls all stood in perfect unison. Sirius flinched at the sudden motion having temporarily forgotten they were even there.

"Bright pink... glow-in-the-dark… Padfoot," Hermione growled out before all three of them followed the raven haired teen out onto the back patio, leaving Sirius alone in the kitchen.

#####

By the time the four bonded returned to the house Sirius was gone and lunch was being prepared. Harry would be forever grateful at how much they'd all grown since their first meeting, and that the girls knew better than to push him. When they'd followed him outside after his blow up at Sirius they'd each simply hugged him carefully, and then set about discussing any random thing that came into their heads, other than what'd happened.

He'd kept his silence for the most part, preferring to work on his Occlumency shields in preparation for returning to school in just a few short weeks. He was well aware that he would likely be meeting with Dumbledore not long after, and wanted to give the old wizard a chance to tell him the prophecy that Director Croaker had helped them collect.

They decided to stay out on the patio to eat their lunch to better enjoy an uncommonly cool breeze that helped drive away the summer heat.

"'All right, Mister," Daphne said once they were each settled at one of the patio tables with a cool drink and a plate in front of them. "I can't be the only one of us that's curious, so spill. When exactly did you learn French?"

Harry blinked in surprise and lowered his bottle of Butterbeer, swallowing before he attempted to answer her question. "Uh… well, before starting at Hogwarts actually. I used to dream of traveling, mostly just as a means to get away from the Dursleys," he explained, his expression darkening briefly before he forcefully shoved his darker thoughts aside. "Sometimes I dreamed about it just because I wanted to see more of the world one day. I'd never even been to London at that point. Since France is so close I started teaching myself French from books, thinking I could go there one day."

"It's too bad mum and dad got roped into that symposium they had to go to," Hermione muttered. "They'd wanted to take all four of us on holiday to Nice this summer, but the timing just didn't work out."

"Maybe next summer we'll be able to do something," Daphne offered thoughtfully, reaching out to pat Hermione's hand in a comforting manner.

A minute later Harry cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat when three pairs of eyes turned toward him. "Speaking of being curious, would one of you like to explain why the three of you were in bed with me this morning?" he asked.

The girls exchanged a look for a moment before returning their attention to him as Susan attempted to explain. "Last night was… it was terrifying, Harry. We learned in first year after the troll just how comforting it can be, sleeping close to each other. After everything that happened yesterday none of us wanted to be very far from you, and we were already sharing my bed anyway, so…." She trailed off and shrugged. "It just seemed easier if we slept in the same bed with you."

That made a certain sense so Harry simply nodded. "I don't mind," he assured them. "I was just surprised when I woke up to find that my bed had gotten pretty crowded."

Nearly identical small smiles appeared on all three girls lips and he couldn't help but smile back. He opened his mouth to speak when the chime for the Floo went off and all four of them turned, looking back toward the house.

"Sirius left already didn't he?" Harry asked the girls who nodded in return, even though he had his back to them.

They waited silently for a few minutes until the back door opened and Amelia stepped out onto the patio.

"Auntie!"

The Head of the DMLE didn't get far before a teen aged blur slammed into her, wrapping her in a crushing hug and she staggered, letting out a grunt at the impact. She smiled fondly, however and wrapped her arms around her niece, leaning down slightly to hug the girl.

"Hey you guys," she said, her voice weary and lethargic. "Everything all right here?"

"Everything's fine here, Amy," Harry told her, moving forward to pry Susan off of her aunt so the woman could sit. With Hermione's help he managed to coax her away while Daphne called for Binky to bring another plate and something to drink for the Lady of the House.

When the food arrived, Amelia set to with a will and the four of them sat in tense silence, letting her eat without peppering her with questions though it was a close thing for Hermione who was particularly eager to start throwing out questions.

Harry took the time to observe his guardian and from what he saw he could only guess that the cleanup had been a far worse experience than the attack itself had been. Her robes were torn, dingy, stained with fluids in several different colors, some of which he really didn't want to even think about. Her hair was a matted disheveled mess and her shoulders were slumped, as if a heavy weight was pressing down on her. All in all he'd never seen the woman in such a sorry state.

"Binky?" he called quietly and the little elf appeared next to him with a soft pop instead of the ear splitting crack that typically accompanied his appearances.

"Yous called, Mister Potter, Sir?" Binky asked in a quiet voice.

"Yes, Binky. Is there any way you can do something to clean Madam Bones up or make her more comfortable? Maybe switch her robes out for her or something, but without interrupting her?"

Binky nodded and snapped his fingers.

A moment later Amelia's Auror robes vanished and were replaced with a soft set of house robes. Much of the grime and dirt vanished from her face and hands and her hair was suddenly much neater and less caked with detritus than it'd been moments before. Amelia paused for a second as she felt the changes occuring, shooting Harry a grateful look and a small smile before returning her attention to her nearly empty plate.

"Thank you, Harry," Amelia said a few minutes later when she finally pushed her empty plate away and leaned back in her seat. "I really should have cleaned up first but it's been a very long night… and half of the day."

"Understandable," he muttered, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table but he winced when the move put pressure on his shoulder and he leaned back in his patio chair instead, frowning at the offending joint as if he could scare it into suddenly healing.

"You know better than that, Harry," Hermione admonished him gently. "I wish you'd put on the sling Madam Pomfrey left you."

"It's nothing I haven't dealt with before and it's not worth the aggravation of not being able to use both my hands."

"I really think that can wait until later you two," Daphne cut in before Hermione could respond. "This isn't really the time to rehash that same argument."

Hermione huffed slightly and crossed her arms over her breasts, glaring at Harry slightly but she didn't voice the comment she wanted to and the four of them turned their attention back to Amelia, who was smiling gently at them.

"That was exactly what I needed, even more than the food," she commented. "A little normalcy after the last few hours does wonders."

"So how much can you tell us?" Harry asked and Amelia let out a long sigh.

"Anyone see the Prophet today?" she asked and the four of them glanced to each other before shaking their heads. A quick call to Binky later and the girls were huddling around Harry's chair where he sat with the Daily Prophet laid out in front of him.

 **Boy-Who-Lived a Hero! DMLE Facing Inquiry!**

The headline screamed at them from the front page in thick, bold text. Beneath it the article spent three paragraphs questioning the security measures, wondering where the Aurors went wrong, and who exactly could they blame for the death toll at the World Cup, all while implying the DMLE must have ultimately been responsible. The next page and a half was spent lauding Harry as the hero that saved hundreds of spectators from the chaos and death unleashed during the unprecedented attack by "rogue dark wizards unknown."

The entire thing was written around two large photos of him. One on the borrowed Firebolt with Daphne sitting behind him, fire spewing from her wand to incinerate one of the inferi, and the second showed the moment when the Siege Engine spell erupted from his 'wand', destroying the fortified wall of the stadium so that the survivors could escape.

"This is ridiculous," he growled, fuming dangerously. "I barely did anything! I spent so much time steering the damn broom that I only actually destroyed a few of those things. You guys did all of the fighting after I took myself out with that stupid spell. I even put us all in more danger by busting a hole in the walls!"

"That's not how the Prophet is spinning it, and unfortunately it's not how most people will see it," Amelia admitted. "There _were_ some security lapses. Turns out at least one or more of the guards from the night before the game were placed under Imperius, to let someone in with the Inferi so they could be hidden around the field and outside the walls. No one knows who brought them in, or where the bodies came from. The World Cup was supposed to be Barty Crouch's project and the entire thing was dropped in our lap after Crouch went missing. Most of the planning and security measures he'd deemed necessary were already in place. The stadium was already more than half built when it came across my desk, and I did the best I could to keep things safe, but we're still going to be blamed for it all."

"How'd they even get these pictures?" Daphne demanded pointing at the article. "I didn't see any cameras there. Did any of you?"

"From what I've been able to figure out, it seems like one of those we rescued was a reporter for the Prophet. They most likely took the photos from Pensieve memories; carefully framed to make Harry look as impressive as possible, of course."

"You're not going to get in any trouble over this whole thing, are you?" Harry asked. "They can't actually launch an inquiry because someone decided to attack the World Cup."

"They can, and they will, but no, I don't think I'm in any real danger," Amelia assured them. "We took all the security precautions that we could, but unfortunately that doesn't mean anything. There's so many ways to get around security and to cause damage with magic that all we can really do is our best, and hope that's enough."

"That is complete bullshit," he growled out and not even Hermione had the heart to admonish him for his language. She was just as incensed as he was.

"It is," Amelia agreed. "But it's unfortunately the way the world works. It's not something anyone will likely be able to change any time in the near future. It's human nature to try to place blame away from themselves. Don't worry, Harry. I'll weather this just like everything else I've dealt with in my career."

While Harry continued to grumble under his breath, Amelia looked around the patio, a mildly confused expression on her face.

"Hang on," she muttered. "I feel like I'm forgetting something…" She trailed off, her brow furrowed in thought for several long moments before she suddenly brightened, snapping her fingers as it came to her. "That's right. Where's Sirius? That dog can't keep quiet for any real length of time, so what room did you guys leave him gagged and hogtied in?"

When her joking question failed to garner the laughs she'd been expecting and Harry muttered a quick, "welcome home, Amy," before heading into the house without another word, she turned her attention to the girls, a questioning look on her face.

"Okay," she said after the door closed behind Harry, "what'd the idiot do?"

#####

By the time September 1st was upon them, the four bonded were more than ready to return to school. After the attack at the World Cup, and the follow up articles in the Daily Prophet, the Boneyard had been inundated by a owls delivering a mix of scathing insults directed at Amelia and the DMLE and praise, requests for interviews, and even a few betrothal offers directed at Harry.

All of the various letters were dealt with in the same direct manner; Harry attached them to the dummies in the backyard and they used them for target practice. Thankfully, any Howlers or cursed post were blocked by the property's wards, so they had a relatively quiet last few weeks.

Neville and Blaise continued to come over nearly every day, though it was mostly just to visit as Harry wasn't physically cleared by Madam Pomfrey to resume his workouts until only a few days were left before they were to catch the Express. The two boys, along with Tracey and Hannah, had joined the four bonded on their annual trip to Diagon Alley in order to buy their school supplies during the last week of August. By the time they'd managed to return home, Harry had been swearing up and down that he was never going to set foot in the Alley again if he could possibly avoid it.

What should have been a simple, and fairly quick, visit had taken the entire day as the group was constantly stopped by people wanting to talk to Harry, shake his hand, thank him, or ask him to endorse products, services, and any possible number of other things that they honestly couldn't hear over the noise of an Alley crowded with students and lookie-loos hoping to catch a glimpse of the ever more famous Boy-Who-Lived.

The inclusion of dress robes for this year had been a surprise to all of the students, but Amelia had seemed to know something about it, based on the look on her face when Hermione had questioned it that morning before they'd left for the Alley. She'd absolutely refused to say anything about it however; no matter how many times they asked her, all she would say was that they would have to wait and see. If things ran true to form, Dumbledore would be making a special announcement during the Welcome Feast.

On the morning of the first, Harry and Susan were packed, dressed, and downstairs eating breakfast before the sun had completely risen. The morning was spent largely in silence as Susan seemed tired and preoccupied, and Harry wasn't entirely certain what to do about it. The weeks since the Cup had been hard on all of them, each plagued by nightmares a few times a week, though poor Susan seemed to be having a worse time of it compared to the others. More than once, he had asked Daphne and Hermione about it but they hadn't been able to tell him anything as Susan had been rather tight lipped over the whole thing, simply saying that she was having bad dreams.

At half past ten o'clock, they shrank their trunks and made their way through the Floo directly to the station with Amelia where they met up with Daphne, Hermione, Blaise, Neville, Tracey, Hannah, and Luna. With such a large group they'd searched out the biggest compartment they could find, it was still something of a tight fit though; to the amusement of most of those present, Luna solved their seating problem by calmly plopping herself onto Neville's lap, just as the train started moving.

The poor boy's face had remained a deep red for most of the trip, and Luna kept her seat as long as she could, citing that she was more than comfortable whenever Neville would politely ask if she wouldn't feel better moving to an actual seat. The rest of them had found the entire situation to be absolutely hilarious, but had carefully kept their amusement to a few snickers at his reaction.

The trip was spent discussing their summers while carefully avoiding any mention of the World Cup, for those who had been there, and the Department of Mysteries for the four bonded. They knew that they would likely tell their friends at some point, but had previously decided that they would keep what they'd learned a secret for as long as possible. There was a lot that needed to be decided first. Such as, were their friends Occlumency shields enough to protect the information? But more importantly was, would Dumbledore be honest with them, or not, and tell them the wording of the prophecy once they were at the school.

If their shields were enough to prevent him from learning that they already knew, and he still failed to tell them… well, they agreed they would have a decision to make after that in regards to the Headmaster, and none of them were entirely certain what the best course of action might be. Distancing themselves from him seemed like the best solution, but Daphne was particularly keen on extracting some form of revenge for what Harry had suffered at the hands of the Dursleys, despite retracting her initial desire to do so when the old man had apologized so profusely for the mistakes he'd made in the past. If he fed them a half truth, or worse, outright lied, about the readiness of their shields, then she had declared the kids gloves would come off.

None of her bond mates had any idea what she intended to do, but the nearly feral grin on her face whenever she spoke of it sent slight shivers of fear down all three of their spines. One thing was for sure, they wouldn't want to be Albus Dumbledore if Daphne decided to make a move against him.

The day passed on and eventually they arrived at Hogsmeade Station, tired but relatively cheerful. They split into two groups and took the carriages up to the castle, and within half an hour of arriving, they were all sitting at their respective House tables, awaiting the Start of Term Feast to begin.

"Head Table is looking a bit crowded, don't you think?" Neville muttered to Harry from across the table as Professor McGonagall started sorting the new students. Harry turned his head to follow his friend's gaze. At the same moment all four of the bonded caught who Neville was indicating and blanched in near perfect unison.

"What is _she_ doing here?" Harry blurted out, clapping absently as a new student was sorted into Hufflepuff.

At the Head Table the Defense Professor's chair was still empty, but at that end of the table, between Professor Flitwick and the empty chair, two recognizable figures sat. Ludo Bagman he would have recognized anywhere; the Head of the Department of Games and Sports was wearing an identical set of his Quidditch styled robes that they'd seen at the World Cup, the giant wasp across his chest was clearly visible even from the distance they were at.

Sitting next to him, smiling at the students in a predatory sort of way, sat a squat pink toad with a black bow in her hair.

"Madam Umbridge apparently has taken over Barty Crouch's duties at the Ministry for now," Susan informed them and they all turned to her for an explanation. "Auntie was talking about it the other day. Remember Crouch was supposed to be involved with the World Cup, but when he disappeared after Sirius' trial, most of his duties got dumped onto the DMLE?"

They nodded.

"Crouch was involved because he was the Head of the Department for International Magical Cooperation; basically a liaison to foreign magical communities and so on. Because the Bulgarian National Team was involved, and there were so many foreign spectators and such, his department was involved. So whatever is going on here this year, I'm pretty certain we can expect visitors from outside the country."

Before any of them could ask anything else, a hush fell over the Hall and they looked up to find that Dumbledore had stood and was signaling for silence.

"To our new students, may I say 'Welcome', and to our returning students, 'Welcome back' to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

He paused as a polite applause swept through the room for a moment.

"Before we get to our wonderful Feast, and our minds become befuddled by too much good food," he said with an exaggerated wink, "I have a few start of term announcements. First, to our new students, the Forbidden Forest on the grounds is, as the name suggests, forbidden to all students. Some of our older students might do well to remember that particular warning as well," he added the last as his eyes swept the Gryffindor table, stopping briefly on the Weasley twins, but also on Harry. All three affected innocent expressions that fooled no one that knew them, and caused a smatter of laughter to sweep through the Hall.

"Our Caretaker, Mister Filch, has informed me that his list of banned items has grown to over 400 strong this year. Anyone who may wish to peruse the list in its entirety, will find it located on the outside of his Office door. He has also asked me to remind students that there is 'absolutely no magic' allowed in the hallways, and violating these rules will result in swift punishment," he continued with a jaunty smile.

No one seemed to have much of any kind of reaction to that, save the new students who looked a bit afraid until some of the older ones leaned in to whisper to them. The majority of them calmed rather quickly after that.

"It is my sad duty to inform you that this year we will not be holding the Inter-House Quidditch Cup-"

He was cut off as a multitude of raised voices suddenly burst out of the crowd of students, nearly every one of them complaining loudly about that piece of news. It took several minutes for the Headmaster to get the silence he needed to continue, though the twinkling in his eyes never wavered, in fact, he looked more amused the longer it went on.

"I am sorry to say that it will just not be possible," he continued, "as this year, Hogwarts has been chosen to host a very special, Ministry sponsored, event beginning in October. It is with pleasure, and a great deal of pride, that I announce the revitalization of the Triwizard Tournament!"

Once again murmurs and conversation broke out. Harry looked around to see shocked expressions on most of the students' faces, though more than a few looked just as confused as he felt. The Weasley twins looked absolutely gobsmacked by the announcement.

"Yes, the Triwizard Tournament has not been held in more than a century, this year however, the Ministry felt the time was ripe to revive it in an attempt to build on our foreign relations. For those of you that are familiar with the event, I apologize and urge you to bear with me for a moment while I enlighten those that are unaware. The Triwizard Tournament began some seven-hundred years ago, and has always been held between the three largest European schools of magic: Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons. Three Champions, one from each school, which are chosen by an impartial judge to compete throughout the year in this historical event's three dangerous and difficult tasks tasks designed to test their courage, ingenuity, and skill.

"The winner will receive eternal glory, the Triwizard Cup, and a thousand galleon prize. Now, there was some opposition amongst certain parties, but this year's Tournament will be a slight departure from those of old. First, there will not be three tasks as has always been the tradition. Instead there will be four since Hogwarts has four houses. The House of the Brave," he nodded toward the Gryffindor table. "The House of the Loyal," he gestured to the Hufflepuffs, "and the Houses of Knowledge and Cunning," he added with a sweeping glance that encompassed the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables.

"Each task will test the Champions. One task to test their bravery and nerve, one task to test their loyalty, one to test their knowledge, and finally a task to test their cunning. As the Tournament was previously abandoned due to the increasing death toll, it has also been decided that there will be an age limit. Only students that are of age, meaning seventeen-years-old at the time of the choosing, may submit their names to be judged for a chance to compete."

Once again the aged wizard had to cut off as the crowd of students started protesting, some louder than others as Ron Weasley bellowed about how unfair that decision was.

A moment later they _all_ fell silent, as a loud rumbling peel of thunder shook the air outside the castle, and the doors to the Great Hall suddenly banged open. Several students nearest the doors screamed in fright, and Harry, Hermione, Daphne, Neville, and Blaise all leaped to their feet, wands in their hands, as they turned to face the cloaked figure now standing in the doorway. A few seconds later Susan joined them, her wand hand trembling slightly but aimed determinedly toward the figure.

Two scarred and gnarled looking hands lifted and threw back the hood on the figure's cloak, revealing a face that had several more students shrieking in fright and the man sneered at them, twisting his scarred visage into an even more terrifying mask for a moment before he started forward. There appeared to be a large chunk missing from the man's nose, and his left eye was small, dark and beady, while his right eye was large, a bright electric blue, and was spinning wildly in his head, moving left and right, up and down, completely independently of his other eye, as Harry watched it roll upward and keep going, spinning completely around to point into the back of his head. There was a dull _clunk_ with every other step as he advanced through the Hall limping heavily, favoring his left leg as he walked.

"You," he called out in a gravelly voice, stopping between the tables to point to Blaise at the Slytherin table. "You, you, you, you, and… you,," he added, pointing to the five friends at the Gryffindor table, he paused, glancing up to the Head Table, "Am I allowed to award points yet, Albus?" he called out and the Headmaster nodded, grinning broadly behind his beard.

"Ten points to Slytherin, and ten points for each of you Gryffindors, for your quick reaction. Never know, I could've been a lunatic dark wizard looking to attack you lot. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" He bellowed out the last two words so loudly that half the Hall jumped. He gave the six standing students an approving nod before he continued to make his way up to the Head Table, where he greeted Dumbledore in a friendly but stiff manor, his gaze constantly sweeping the Hall, the two of them exchanging a few quiet words.

Finally, the man took the empty seat set aside for the Defense Professor. He picked up a plate of sausages, examining them suspiciously for a moment, then he pulled a large knife from his pocket and speared one of them, eating slowly all the while his bright blue eye continued to scan the room.

"Professor Moody, or rather Retired Master Auror Moody, has consented to be our Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor this year," Dumbledore explained once Harry and the others had returned to their seats, and the rest of the students appeared to have calmed down.

"Just a few more details to explain before we go about filling our bellies, as I'm sure you are all quite hungry after your long day," the Headmaster continued his interrupted explanation. "As I said, only of age students may enter the tournament, this is for the safety of all involved. With the foreknowledge that losing Quidditch this year would be an issue, especially as only one student from our School may compete, it was decided that we will be holding other events throughout the year as well, allowing anyone that may wish to enter, if they so desire, to do so. These additional events will include a Dueling Tournament," he paused to let the cheering subside somewhat, "as well as an Inter-School Quidditch Tournament." The chaos that caused took a bit longer to subside before he could continue. "We will be forming a single team, from all four Houses, to compete against teams fielded by Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. I look forward to seeing how superbly our Hogwarts students will fare against our foreign friends."

Harry started to tune the man out as he went on to explain a few more details of how the events were going to work, and that further information would be made available in the coming weeks.

An extremely dangerous event was coming to Hogwarts starting in October, Harry frowned, thinking over the whole thing, a growing feeling of dread swelling in the pit of his stomach. Moments later, the platters on the tables filled and conversation rose steadily around them as people filled their plates, and nearly everyone was talking about the upcoming Tournament, and the extra events set to take place as well, in excited tones.

"Anyone want to bet that something terrible is going to happen when the Champions are chosen?" he suddenly asked as he placed chicken and potatoes, that he didn't feel like eating anymore, onto his plate, before then reaching for a pitcher of pumpkin juice.

No one answered as he poured and after setting the pitcher down he looked up, taking in the bemused expressions on his bond mates' and friend's faces.

"Oh come on," he said. "A deadly tournament set to start in October? I'd lay that thousand galleon prize that the Champions are going to be chosen on Halloween, and we know how good Halloween has been to me over the years," he muttered, lowering his eyes to his plate.

Again, no one said anything, but they slowly resumed eating and eventually conversation picked up again as Neville asked Hermione what she might know about the Tournament, hoping to get some extra information. Once again, Harry tuned out most of what was going on around him, focusing his thoughts and his, seemingly flavorless, dinner. The main Tournament sounded like it could be entertaining to watch, and the Dueling Tournament and the Quidditch matches certainly sounded promising as well; he'd love to try out for the School Quidditch Team if at all possible.

Somehow though, he couldn't shake the lump of ice in his chest that told him this was going to be the most dangerous year he'd experienced yet. He was probably the only person in the school that really wasn't looking forward to this whole thing.

 _Just keep your head down,_ he thought some time later when he was lying in his bed in the dorm, waiting for sleep to claim him. _Keep your head down, focus on classes and the girls and you'll stay out of trouble this year. There's no mysteries. No escaped convicts. No hidden treasures waiting to be stolen. Keep your head down, and for_ once _you're going to have a quiet, calm year._

He rolled over onto his side, and just before he fell asleep one last thought flitted across his mind.

 _Yeah… I don't really believe that for a minute either._


	49. Curses, Balls, and Bonds

**Author's Notes: The Rotten Writer here again gang. Apologies for the delay. Health problems, family problems, technical problems... it's been rough. But i'm back and raring to go. Jumping into things here and moving right along. Not a lot to say, really, so I hope you all enjoy and I'm looking forward to seeing what you guys think.**

 **Disclaimer: I stil don't own jack. Not gonna change... ever.**

 **On with the show! Here is Chapter 48 of Soul Scars!**

Soul Scars Part Four

Allegria

By,

Rtnwriter

September 1st that year fell on a Thursday, something that a majority of the students enjoyed immensely as the professors didn't bother to hold classes for only a single day, giving the returning students a three day weekend before their first actual week of classes. Only the Ravenclaws, and Hermione, were at all disappointed to not be diving immediately into their full course load.

When Hermione woke at a quarter to five in the morning that following Monday she was excited and looking forward to the day ahead of her. That sensation lasted all of five seconds, before she realized that something was very wrong; there weren't enough bodies in bed with her.

"Daphne, " she hissed, reaching out to shake the blond's shoulder. "Daphne, Susan's gone."

Daphne struggled awake but eventually her mind processed what Hermione was saying, as well as what she could feel across their bond, and she sat up sharply, looking around wildly for a moment before she closed her eyes.

"She's downstairs," she muttered a moment later. "I can feel her. I think she's sitting in our spot."

Hermione felt a simultaneous flood of relief and a small stab of irritation. Since completing their portion of the bond, Daphne and Susan could always feel where the other was located. Hermione didn't seem to have that ability, nor could they find her the same way. She felt that there was _something_ different about their bond since she admitted that she was in love with the two of them, but thus far she hadn't been able to determine what that was.

Silently, the two of them climbed out of bed and made their way downstairs. Coming off the final step into the Common Room, they immediately spotted Susan's vibrant red hair where she was sitting on their sofa by the fire and started toward her. Separating, they each rounded opposite ends of the sofa, and gently sat with the shivering redhead between them.

Susan sniffled, never moving her red rimmed eyes away from the fire. "I didn't wake you, did I?" she asked in a croaking voice, causing both girls to immediately wrap their arms around her.

"Not at all," Hermione assured her. "I woke up and was worried that you were gone. Then I felt how upset you were and I woke Daphne."

"I didn't want to bother you," she whimpered, her shaking getting worse as shame, fear, and a surprising self-loathing spread over their bond.

"You know better than that, love," Daphne gently admonished her. "Something's bothering you, and we've let you try to work through it, but you're not getting better. I don't like what this is doing to you, Susan."

"I know. I know, I'm sorry." She let out a shaky laugh, "Look at me, always the first to preach opening up, and now here I am bottling things up, holding back."

Hermione felt a sudden spike of worry that didn't originate with her and realized that Harry had just woken up. Thirty seconds later the sound of footsteps reached them and he was suddenly there, crouched on one knee in front of them. When he met Hermione's gaze she only shook her head, silently letting him know that she didn't know what was wrong… yet.

"Can you talk to us, Susan?" he asked in a gentle tone, adding his own arms to the hug the girl was wrapped up in; she let out a choked sob.

"I can't do it," she finally whispered, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. "I just… I can't."

Daphne shushed her quietly. "Can't do what, love?" she asked.

"I'm not as strong as the three of you. I… I can't stop dreaming... I'm so scared."

"Susan, look at me... please?" Harry asked, gently trying to coax her attention. When she finally opened her eyes to meet his softly glowing gaze, he gave her a small smile. "There you are," he whispered. "Now… is this about the World Cup? I have nightmares about it too, you know." His eyes flickered toward Hermione for a moment before returning to Susan.

"But you're not falling apart," she sobbed.

"And I've suffered years of horrific nightmares to get to this point," he pointed out. "I'm glad you haven't been conditioned to ignore them like I can. I'd never want for you to have to suffer my nightmares."

"I don't want to disappoint you, but I can't do it anymore. I'm sorry, I just can't."

"Can't do _what_ , Susan?" Hermione echoed Daphne's question, gently rubbing the distraught girl's back with one hand. "What is it?"

Susan didn't answer for a time. She sat there, sobbing quietly and tried to pull herself together before she could speak.

"When you went over the wall," she finally said, turning her head to look at Hermione, "I froze. I froze, and if Harry hadn't jumped off after you… we would have lost you. If it'd been left to me, I wouldn't have reacted fast enough. And you," she added, turning to Daphne, "You climbed on the back of a broom with _this_ lunatic flying," she gestured to Harry, "and… you fought back. I was so scared that you and Harry had to keep reassuring me. I didn't help fight at all. I… I didn't even cast a single spell at those horrible things while the three of you fought to save our lives."

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with that," Hermione insisted. "You know I would never have gotten on a broom with Harry under those conditions. I could barely get on just to fly back up to all of you."

"It's not just that," Susan said, sniffling again, "I did the least when we went after the Stone. I was useless after you were petrified. Harry and Daphne kept going but I just fell apart."

"We don't know why that happened," Harry pointed out, "but that doesn't make you useless. Daphne and I have dealt with more trauma in our lives than you've had to. Personally, I'm grateful for that. We need someone like you, Susan, to remind us that life is more than pain and darkness."

Daphne nodded, immediately latching onto where Harry was going with his analogy and she took hold and ran with it. "You're the light for the rest of us," She cut in. "You pushed us to open up more. You've helped us navigate all the emotional pitfalls we've come up against so far. You've been a part of every major growth in our bond and in our relationships. The night I kissed Hermione, you helped her when her memory came back. New Year's Eve when I kissed Harry, that was partly at your insistence. The day _you_ kissed him, and then Hermione finally admitted her feelings….

"I think Hermione telling him we all loved him during the Dementor attack was the only time you weren't directly involved, somehow, other than being there with us. Don't ever think you're not an important part of this bond."

"How long has this been eating at you, Susan?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Just since the Cup," came Susan's quiet response. "I just started thinking over the last few years and realized how little I've really contributed in all the trouble we've gotten into-"

"But you have contributed, immensely. Just like Daphne said," Hermione cut her off, "You are an important part of our lives, because we love you, not because of what you can do."

While Hermione and Daphne continued to reassure their bond mate as best they could, Harry had a thoughtful expression on his face as he turned over everything she'd said in his mind.

"Susan?" he suddenly asked, causing all three of his girls to look to him. "You never really answered Hermione. What is it that you don't think you can do anymore?"

Susan shifted uneasily in her seat between the other girls.

"It's okay," Daphne whispered in her ear. "You can tell us. We're not going to judge you."

"I don't want to let you three down," she muttered morosely.

"And we don't want you doing something you don't want to, just because you think you have to for us," Harry said firmly. "Sorry, not to speak for you two-"

"No, I agree completely," Hermione interrupted. "And you can _feel_ that Daphne agrees with us," she added to Susan. "What is it, hon?"

Finally, Susan drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. "I don't want to fight," she admitted. "We swore to you in Second Year that we'd fight with you, but… I don't think I can do it." Her blue eyes were fixed on Harry's, a pleading look in their watery depths.

"You don't have to fight if you're not comfortable with it," he told her. "You don't have to do anything that you don't want to do."

"I can't just leave you to shoulder everything," she insisted. "I just… I don't know what to do. I don't think I have the instincts that you three have when it comes to danger. I don't have whatever it is that lets you react... to protect people instead of cowering in fear."

"Learn Warding," Daphne suggested.

"Work on enchanting, or spell crafting," came Hermione's offer.

"What about Healing?"

The girls looked to Harry again, and this time he shifted a bit nervously under their combined scrutiny. "I was just thinking… I've noticed you watching Madam Pomfrey before, when she's doing her diagnostics and such, and you always seemed very interested in what she was doing and… well, let's face it, with my luck it would probably be a good idea if at least one of us know some medicall spells."

His attempt at a joke fell flat as they glared at him, but they couldn't deny that he had a point. Even if their bond mate wasn't such a trouble magnet, it would still be a good idea to know some basic healing.

"He's not wrong," Hermione finally admitted.

"Though his delivery could have been better," Daphne added with another icy glare in his direction.

"Hey, I don't _try_ to get hurt you know," Harry protested only to have them shout back in unison:

"We know!"

"Why don't you go talk to Madam Pomfrey this afternoon?" Harry suggested, hoping to draw their attention away from him.

Susan had finally stopped shivering and sniffling, looking decidedly contemplative as she considered the idea. "I just might do that," she said, slowly nodding her head before she glanced to each of them in turn. "You're sure that-"

"We want you to be happy too, Susan," Daphne said. "If fighting isn't for you that's perfectly fine. We each have our own strengths and weaknesses."

"I do think that you should still train with us, though," Harry said. "Cut back on it some, sure, but you should still know how to defend yourself."

With Daphne and Hermione nodding in agreement with that assessment, Susan could only nod in assent as well, a feeling a gratitude and relief flowing across their bond from the redhead. "Thank you for understanding," she whispered, and all three of them leaned in to envelope her in another hug.

"Nothing to thank us for," Hermione murmured quietly, and she felt Harry nodding his head.

When they finally separated again, Harry glanced at his watch. "Neville and I need to meet up with Blaise," he said. "Why don't you get a little more rest, Susan? You still seem exhausted."

She considered that for a moment before shaking her head. "No. You're right that I should keep training with the rest of you. The exercise and the practice is good for me. I can take a nap this afternoon, after classes, if I really need to."

Decision made, they returned to their dorms to change and, with Neville accompanying them, the headed out for the Room of Requirement where Blaise was likely already waiting.

As they walked, Hermione allowed herself a small smile. The feelings of shame and self-loathing from Susan were gone entirely, replaced by a sense of determination and eager excitement. Entering the room behind her bond mates, she was pleased to think to herself, _she's going to be just fine._

#####

"I don't like this, Sirius," Amelia growled, glaring at the parchment spread out across her desk.

"I don't either, Aims, but what can we do about it?"

"Nothing!" she suddenly bellowed, furiously shoving the parchment aside, sending it flying off of her desk. "There's absolutely nothing that we can do! That's what's pissing me off!"

For those that knew the Marauder, his reaction was strangely calm as he slipped from his chair on the other side of her desk, and began gathering together the loose bits of parchment now spread across the floor of the Head Office of the DMLE.

"These are my kids, Siri," she said, her face in her hands. "None of them are actually mine… but they're _mine_. I love them, and they're all going to suffer according to that… _thing!_ " She spat out the last word as if it were something vile in her mouth, motioning to the parchment in Sirius' hands. He laid the notes on her desk as she resumed glaring at the top sheet where the words of the Oracle could be seen.

"'Knowledge will fall'," he quoted, his eyes fixed on the page as well. "Is it possible that bit has already happened? Can we ignore that now as said and done and move on from it?"

She lifted her head to meet his gaze. "What do you mean?"

"Well… we're agreed that 'knowledge' must mean Hermione, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Well… she 'fell' off the top of the Cup Stadium. Yeah, Harry caught her, and a damn good job that was too, but she still fell. Maybe we can count that as one bit of awful out of the way and we don't have to worry about it anymore."

She sighed and sat back in her seat. "I considered that actually, but I'm worried that there's a slightly less literal interpretation that is potentially much worse."

"What's that?" he asked despite being reasonably positive that he didn't actually want to know.

"That phrase 'fallen in battle' comes to mind."

Sirius blew out a gusty sigh and dropped heavily back into his own seat. "Yeah," he muttered. "I didn't want to know. You honestly think it means she's going to die."

It wasn't a question.

"I think it's a _possible_ interpretation. And if I'm right, it doesn't matter, since there's absolutely _nothing_ we can do about it. A prophecy _can_ be avoided. With great difficulty, but it is possible. The words of an oracle are _fact_. It _will_ happen. There's absolutely no avoiding it."

"Then why are you driving yourself crazy with this? If there's nothing to be done why agonize over it?"

"Because I have to _know_ , Sirius! I can't stand not knowing. I…"

"But you _don't_ know," he said when she trailed off uncertainly. "Until it happens all you have are guesses, and there's no way to know what might be correct. You don't even have the whole thing. The missing part could say, 'and they lived happily ever after, ' for all you know."

She cracked a small smile at that, causing him to grin broadly.

"Look, put this away and come to dinner with me tonight," he said.

"I'll admit it," she sighed, "I'm impressed you waited this long."

"I'm sure I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Madam Bones." His tone was calm and firm and she looked back at him in surprise.

"You've never been known for your patience, Sirius," she pointed out, "You've been hanging around for months, and this is the first time you've asked me out since you got your freedom."

"Sitting in a cell for twelve years teaches one patience, Amy," he responded, "And as good as I am at making people think otherwise, I'm not actually stupid. We had something once, you and I. We're not the same people we were back then. Not anymore. I know there's no way of just jumping back to that, but I _would_ like to see if we might find something new. Come to dinner with me, please."

Amelia's lower lip was pinched between her finger and thumb as she thought, her eyes never leaving the very serious expression on Sirius' face.

"How did we go from talking about that," she released her lip to wave at the parchment on her desk, "to discussing a date?" she wondered and Sirius broke out into a broad grin.

"I'm just that loveable," he said.

She snorted out a laugh, "And that's the joker I know, she muttered, eyeing him speculatively. At one time they had been very close. In the weeks before that awful Halloween night, she had even suspected that he might have been planning on proposing to her. But then everything went to hell, and he wound up in Azkaban for more than a decade. Did she really want to traverse that rabbit hole again? Worse, did she deserve the chance he seemed to be offering? She hadn't believed in him. She'd thought him guilty right along with everyone else. If she'd cared for him as much as she thought she had, shouldn't she have questioned things? Shouldn't she have known that something wasn't right with the official story?

Why had it taken a teenager to figure out what had been staring her in the face, if she'd just taken the time to look for it?

"Have you talked to Harry about your argument from a few weeks ago?" she asked. Sirius grimaced but didn't answer, which was answer enough in and of itself. "Long and short of it, you were out of line, Sirius." She immediately held up a hand to stop him as he opened his mouth to protest. "He went over a few lines too. I told him that much myself, but the girls warned you not to push for an answer, and you did it anyway."

"Is it suddenly a crime to be worried about my godson?" he demanded defensively.

"No, it isn't, Sirius, but you haven't been a part of his life for a long time. He cares about you, and he's happy that you're in his life now, but you just can't come at him like that."

"I just wanted to understand," he muttered, slumping dejectedly in his seat.

"And that's admirable of you. But you can't demand answers that he's not ready to give. He hasn't even told his girls the whole story yet. I'll tell you this much… the people responsible are going to be spending a good number of decades rotting away in a dark hole, where they belong."

Sirius seemed pleased with that.

"Talk to your godson, Sirius," she said, blue eyes studying him carefully. "Show me that you're not the same man you were thirteen years ago… then we might talk about that dinner."

She straightened up the parchment on her desk and locked it in one of the bottom drawers. When she looked up at him he was staring off into space, a contemplative frown furrowing his brow. For a moment she almost asked him to leave so she could concentrate on her work, but eventually she just let him be, simply pulling her in-box closer to her. For some time the silence was broken only by the sound of shifting parchment and the scratching of her quill.

#####

Their first full week back at school passed quickly enough, Harry felt. That first Monday Susan actually did go and speak to Madam Pomfrey. Apparently the mothering Mediwitch was quite thrilled to have one of the bonded showing an interest in the Healing Arts, particularly due to the trouble the only male in their quartet tended to get into. Susan had been quite delighted to relay that part of the discussion to the three of them that evening, much to Harry's chagrin, despite knowing, and having even mentioned himself, that with his luck it was inevitable that he'd find himself under the tender mercies of Poppy at some point during the year.

Just because he knew it to be true, didn't mean he wanted it thrown in his face by a rather smug redhead. The day before, on Sunday, the four of them had made their way to the Hospital Wing, right after breakfast, to resume their weekly appointments with Madam Pomfrey, and she'd found no differences in their bond since the girls had completed their portion of it the previous term. That was bothering Harry to a significant degree.

He'd promised to try, and he had been. He couldn't exactly spend _more_ time with them, as they spent almost all of their waking hours together when at school, and plenty of time over the summer as well. While during the time he did spend with them however, they were all significantly more affectionate with each other than they'd been before the day he'd made that promise, and gifted them the heart charms that hung from the bracelets all three wore daily, not once had he seen the girls without those bracelets after the Christmas Day when he'd first given the items to them, there was something still missing, preventing him from finishing his part.

They hadn't done much beyond kissing, even if some of those kisses had drastically tested his willpower on occasion, but he simply could _not_ figure out why his part of the bond hadn't grown further as the girl's had. The only difference that he could think of was them acknowledging and understanding that they loved each other. Something he was still struggling with. Not just to say that he felt love for them, though that was difficult enough, but he had other issues with the entire situation that he really wasn't sure how to address.

He knew, somewhere deep inside that what he felt for his girls was considerably deeper than anything else he'd ever experienced. When Hermione had gone over the wall of the Cup Stadium… that had easily been the most terrified he had ever felt in his life. Even greater than the fear he'd experienced growing up, or when confronted with Voldemort, or the basilisk. Those fears were mostly for himself, and something that he was well acquainted with. But the fear of losing one of the girls… that had shaken him to his core, and he had been struggling since with just what it meant.

By Thursday afternoon however, those personal issues were shunted aside for something considerably more pressing, at that moment. Their entire group of friends, as well as most of their year group, had been waiting with a great deal of anticipation for this: Their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson of the year with Mad-Eye Moody as their instructor. Over the week, Susan had told several stories in the Common Room, with most of their House hanging on her every word, of the scarred and grizzled Auror veteran.

She'd grown up knowing him, and had heard many things about the man over her years spent waiting around the Auror Bullpen for her aunt. Many of the stories she recounted seemed fantastic, even impossible, or, as the Weasley twins pointed out, they sounded like something that might happen to Harry. He'd thrown a few couch cushions at them for that, though the solid impacts had done nothing to curb their laughter.

As they filed their way into the class, most of the students actually arriving early for this much anticipated lesson, Harry let his thoughts wander a bit, latching onto several things he'd noticed over the last few days, while he and his friends all sat in the first row, as close to the teacher's desk as they could get.

First, he'd noticed that Blaise was spending more time talking to Luna, and twice already the two had vanished to walk around the Black Lake. He felt they'd looked rather comfortable, walking fairly close together on their way out of the castle the second time. This wasn't entirely unexpected to Harry, not after the conversation that he and Blaise had held early in the summer. No, the thing that Harry found odd, was the way that Neville had taken to watching the two of them with an unreadable expression on his face whenever they were nearby. Whenever Harry asked if he was okay, Neville simply muttered something he couldn't really make out and would change the subject.

The second and third things seemed to be related to each other, but Harry couldn't figure out why for the life of him. Starting the day after the Welcoming Feast, it suddenly seemed as if all the girls in the castle had taken to traveling in packs. All week, everywhere they went, he would see groups of girls clustered together in the halls, and whenever they passed there would be a great deal of giggling and whispering.

Each time this happened he would note a mixture of annoyance, anxious anticipation, and worry through the bond with _his_ girls. They steadfastly refused to tell him what was bothering them whenever he would ask, however.

Item number four on his list of strange things, was that Ginny Weasley had tried, on three different occasions, to talk to him alone, and he had no idea what she could possibly want. He didn't think he'd said ten words to the girl over the last two years, and suddenly she was quite keen to talk to him.

"I swear, everyone is going crazy around here," he muttered to himself, pulling his Defense text from his bag and setting it on the desk in front of him while they waited for class to begin.

Slowly, the class finished filling up with the last stragglers walking in just before the bell rang, signaling that class was set to start. All strangeness and personal issues fell away and Harry sat forward eagerly in his seat, wondering just what they were going to learn from the legendary retired Master Auror.

The only problem was that as the clock ticked past the official start of class, there was no sign of their professor. Most of the students continued to chat idly amongst themselves, while Neville, Blaise, and the four bonded exchanged looks, each of them wondering at the man's absence.

Finally, nearly ten minutes after class was supposed to start, the door burst open and the grizzled old Auror limped into the room.

"Yer not going to need those," he growled as he stumped his way up to the front of the class. "Those books. Put 'em away. Yer not going to need them today." There was a generalized rustling throughout the room as the class put away their books just as the professor reached the desk and leaned back against it.

"Professor Lupin sent me some information on you lot, and I looked over the past records for this class," he growled, his fake eye spinning wildly around the room in an extremely disconcerting manner. "From what he said ye've all got a solid grounding in dark creatures. But ye all appear to be way behind on curses, so that's what we'll be focusing on this year. Learning to recognize and counter harmful curses, jinxes, hexes and so on. PUT IT AWAY!" He suddenly bellowed and more than half the class nearly leaped out of their seats, Harry and the rest of his friends included.

Both of Professor Moody's eyes were fixed on a seat behind where Harry and his friends were sitting, and he half turned in his seat to see Lavender and Parvati sitting two rows behind them. Parvati was in the process of pulling a magazine of some kind out from under her desk, where she'd apparently been trying to hide it, so that she and Lavender could read while the Professor was talking.

"I don't care if you want to look up new beauty tips, or whatever it is you girls do, do it on yer own time," Moody snarled after the magazine was tucked back in Parvati's bag. "But in this class you will give your undivided attention, or you'll be helping me demonstrate defending yerselves from the curses and hexes that we cover this year. AM I UNDERSTOOD?"

Again they all jumped and the class nervously chimed their understanding.

"There is entirely too much out there that can end yer life, or make it an utter misery, for you not to devote yer full efforts in my class. I will not have you goofing off, or not giving these lessons the full consideration they deserve. If you don't like that, THERE'S THE DOOR!"

He stopped and his bright blue eye scanned slowly across the frozen class, passing over each one of them for a moment before he suddenly pushed off of the desk and started pacing back and forth in front of it, his hands clasped together behind his back.

"So, straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses _look_ like until yer in the sixth year. Yer not supposed to be old enough to deal with it 'til then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of yer nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what yer up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen?

"A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on ye isn't going to tell ye what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to yer face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. CONSTANT VIGILANCE! So . . . do any of ye know which curses are most heavily punished by Wizarding law?"

Harry was slightly surprised when several different hands went up around the room. Aside from his and Hermione's, Neville, Blaise, Tracey, Ron, and a few more of the Slytherin students, including Draco Malfoy, all raised their hands as well.

"You. Weasley, right?" Moody said, pointing one gnarled finger at Ron who gulped and nodded nervously now that the Auror's attention was focused entirely on him.

"Y-yes, Sir," he stammered. "There was one that I remember my dad talking about. The Imperius curse? Or something like that."

"Yer dad _would_ know that one…" Moody trailed off and turned, pulling a large glass jar out from behind his desk and setting it on top. Inside the jar, three hand sized black spiders could be seen scuttling around, and Ron immediately pushed himself back as far as he could in his seat, looking suddenly quite pale.

"The Imperius Curse," Moody continued, completely ignoring Ron's behavior. "Nasty bit of business that one. Properly applied, the Imperius can take complete control over the victim. One wizard, or witch, applies the curse on another person and suddenly that person is completely under their control. If they want that person to jump off a cliff, they'll do it. Do a tap dance? Easy enough. Steal something, murder, lie, cheat, betray their friends or family. It's all possible. But with this curse, it comes down to a battle of wills. The caster's will has to be stronger than the victim's, or the victim _can_ fight it off. Ye'll each be getting a chance to fight off the curse later today."

"Umm…. Sir?" Hermione asked, hesitantly raising her hand. "Are you saying that you're going to cast the Imperius on us?"

Moody shook his head, jaw length gray hair flying about wildly for a moment. "No, lass. I have never actually cast them before."

There was a sudden scoffing noise from somewhere in the room. Harry wasn't certain, but he thought it came from Malfoy's general direction. Moody seemed to think so too as his fake eye snapped up and stopped on Malfoy, even as his real eye stayed fixed on Hermione.

"Have something to say over there Mister Malfoy?" he growled out in a low, dangerous sort of voice. Harry thought Malfoy should have been smart, he should have recognized the danger inherent in the man's tone, but true to form, he simply drew himself arrogantly up in his seat and sneered down at the professor.

"We keep hearing about the _Legendary_ Auror Moody," he drawled out. "How you _supposedly_ captured more dark wizards than any other Auror. But if you don't have enough power to cast one of the Unforgivables, how amazing can you _really_ be? Sounds to me as if your reputation is as trumped up as Potter's."

"So… ye think the fact that I refuse to cast those curses is an indication of power?"

"Of course it is. Only the powerful could use those curses."

"Yer an idiot."

Malfoy blinked. "Wha-"

"A bleedin' moron. Power has absolutely nothing to do with it…" He paused, looking suddenly thoughtful for a moment before correcting himself. "Sorry, power is a _part_ of casting that kind of magic, but the real trick is in just what makes them dark in the first place."

A sea of blank faces stared back at him, and Moody let out a long, drawn out sigh. "Has no one ever explained to ye what truly makes a spell dark?" he asked, and nearly as one the entire class shook their heads.

"Great. I've got my work cut out for me with you lot," he muttered to himself, though those students sitting in the front were just able to make out what he was saying. "All right. Let's try a little debate session, shall we? What makes the the Cruciatus, the torture curse, one of the three Unforgivable curses?" he asked and both eyes moved randomly around the room.

Harry was frowning, his mind spinning rapidly as he tried to come up with some kind of answer to the question.

"Well… it hurts people. That's plenty of reason, ain't it?" Dean Thomas answered after Moody pointed to him.

 _That's not right,_ Harry thought. _Plenty of others spells can be used to hurt someone that aren't even curses. Charms and Transfiguration can cause some serious agony if you use them right._

Moment's later Moody backed up his thoughts by saying nearly the same thing. _So if it isn't what the curse_ does _that makes it dark…_

"Is it the intent?" he suddenly asked, more to himself than anything else but he noticed Moody's head whip in his direction and realized he'd spoken louder than he meant to.

"What was that, Potter?" he asked, his eyes fixed intently on Harry.

"Uh… well… I was just wondering if it has to do with intent," he said, a little louder and the Auror nodded.

"Keep going…"

Harry frowned again, his arms crossed over his chest as he worked his way through his thoughts aloud. "I was going to mention the Killing Curse when you asked us to name those with the worst punishment. It's a curse that's only purpose is to kill. But just killing someone wouldn't be enough to make a piece of magic dark, I mean… I could kill someone with a levitation charm, a banishing charm, or a cutting curse. A piercing hex can kill, even a knockback jinx can kill if you knock someone down a flight of stairs or out a window.

"With Cruciatus… it can't _just_ be that it causes pain, since you can hurt someone with literally hundreds of other spells, and in some pretty horrible ways too. So I was thinking that it has to do with intent. With the Cruciatus you have to _want_ to cause pain. You have to enjoy it, revel in hurting someone, don't you?"

When Harry stopped speaking, the class was sitting utterly silent, staring at Harry as if his head had suddenly started spinning around in circles, he started to fidget in his seat, sure he'd screwed something up, somehow, until Moody finally spoke.

"That, is probably one of the best answers from a student I've ever heard," he said and half the class looked to him in complete shock. "That's it exactly. Dark magic is labeled dark due to intent. You have to _want_ to cause pain, death, or to force someone to bend to yer will or the spells won't work. I could stand up here and every last one of ye could point yer wands at me and say the words to the curses and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. Ye might have more than enough power, but if ye don't really _mean_ it, nothing will happen.

"That's why those three are considered Unforgivable. Only the worst, most depraved sort of individual, would be willing to use them on another person without having any other choice. I've known good people that have used the Killing Curse and the Imperius when they were backed into a corner and I don't think any less of them for it. Personally, I've never felt that I had the need to cast any of them. I always found another way to deal with whatever situation I was in, without having to resort to one of those curses.

"But, to finish answering yer earlier question, Miss Granger, no, I will not be casting the Imperius on you lot." He gestured to a corner of the room and when the class all turned to look they noticed a wavering in the corner, like heat waves in the air that shimmered and suddenly a cloaked figure came into view. "No, my guest, Director Croaker of the Department of Mysteries will be doing it for me. Dumbledore has decided, and the Ministry agreed, that it would be good for ye'll to be familiar with the spell, so ye can possibly learn to fight it off. Not everyone can, but if ye have a strong enough will, ye might be able to learn to do so."

 _What is Croaker doing here?_ Harry wondered, eyeing the Unspeakable suspiciously while Professor Moody continued his lecture. Personally, Harry felt ill when Croaker started demonstrating the curses on the spiders. The Imperius had most of the class laughing as one of the spider was sent cartwheeling across the teacher's desk. It performed a strange, spastic sort of tap dance and at one point swung from a line of webbing as if it were performing on a trapeze before Croaker returned it to the jar.

"You all think that was funny, do ye?" Moody growled, stomping back and forth at the front of the class. "That was simple stuff. Amusing for you. What if the Director had decided to have that spider crawl into an open flame? Or hurl itself into a pot of boiling water? The Director could've done that, ye know. That spider would have followed that order, even if it died in agony because of it, and that's what could be done to any of you by a Dark Wizard wanting to hurt ye. In the last war some victims were made to torture and kill their own families before they released 'em from the curse, just long enough to let 'em see and truly understand what they'd done, before they were killed themselves."

No one in the class was laughing anymore. More than a few of them looked as ill as Harry felt, and the uncomfortable feeling only grew as the other two curses were demonstrated. He actually closed his eyes when the Killing Curse was used, not wanting to see that flash of green light that had haunted his nightmares for years.

"Right awful curse, that one is. It doesn't just kill, it tears yer soul away from yer body. Impossible to block with any kind of magical shield. Only one person has ever been known to survive being hit with it, and he's sitting in this room," Moody said, both of his eyes fixed on Harry who desperately wished that he could throw his invisibility cloak over himself to get away from all the staring eyes as most of the class turned their heads to look at him.

With two of the spiders still alive and a third dead Moody came to stand in the middle of the room, directly in front of the class.

"I hope I've impressed on you all just how terrible these curses can be," he said in a surprisingly quiet tone. "I've made a career out of fighting the kind of people that willingly, even gleefully, use these curses, and others like them, and I want to make it clear to all of ye now… if I ever catch one of ye using anything that ye learn in my class to hurt someone else, or using one of those three curses on another person, I will happily help hunt ye down just like any other dark witch or wizard that I've ever captured." He scanned the rows of students again, every one of them listening intently as he spoke, each absolutely certain that he meant every single word.

Turning back to his desk Moody leaned against it again and started calling out names, directing the students one at a time to the empty space between the first row of desks and where he stood where Director Croaker proceeded to cast the Imperius on them one at a time. After the unpleasant mood left by Moody's last statement to them, there was some much needed levity for most of the class as they watched their friends and classmates engage in one bit of foolishness after another.

Harry was too sickened by what else the Imperius could make a person do to really get a laugh out of things like the others were, but he couldn't help cracking a smile when Malfoy gave a horribly off-key performance of 'I'm a Little Teapot'. He noticed that Neville, Blaise, and his girls were just as somber as he felt during the exercise, until Neville was called up to the front of the class.

By that point, it'd been relatively the same with each student. Not a one of them seemed to have any ability to fight off or resist the curse in the slightest. In fact, Ron was still clucking like a chicken now and again, even though he'd been released from the curse several minutes earlier. Neville's reaction was entirely different. The Director cast the curse, speaking aloud for the benefit of the class.

"Jump up on the chair," he said as Moody conjured a simple wooden chair next to where Neville was standing, his eyes glassy as he faced out toward the rest of the class.

For a moment, the muscles in Neville's body shifted, as if he were going to turn toward the chair but then he seemed to hesitate, the blank expression on his face showing a look of confusion.

"Jump up onto the chair, Longbottom," Croaker said again, more forcefully, and Neville actually _did_ turn that time. His knees started to bend and he straightened up again. Then he finally bent his knees and started to jump, but at the last second he suddenly turned.

"No!" he shouted, startling most of them with the sudden exclamation as he fell against the chair, crashing hard to the stone floor.

"That's the way, laddie!" Moody roared, stomping forward to grab Neville by the shoulder, helping him to his feet. "Did ye all see that?" he said excitedly, his accent getting noticeably thicker. "Longbottom actually fought it off, mostly. What'd it feel like, kid?"

Neville looked shaky, wincing in pain as he let his weight settle on his right leg. "Umm… I felt… I felt kind of floaty… like there was this haze over my mind or something, and I heard a voice telling me to jump up on the chair."

"And?"

Neville shrugged. "I don't know. It seemed like a reasonable thing for some reason, but when I went to do it I suddenly heard my own voice asking 'why?' I mean it's not like _I_ wanted to jump onto a chair, so why do it?"

"So ye listened to that other voice, _your_ voice. That's exactly the way. Again Longbottom, and the rest of ye, watch 'is eyes. That's where ye can really see the fight."

Murmurs swept through the class as Croaker cast the curse twice more on Neville. By the second time, he was able to shake off the effects of the curse in less than a minute, without even trying to do whatever the Director was telling him to do.

"Very good, Longbottom," Moody praised as Neville limped back to his seat. "Very good. They'll have trouble controlling _you_."

"Anyone else think he's just a little _too_ happy about all this?" Harry muttered when Moody's eyes suddenly swiveled to him.

"Potter, yer up. Let's see what ye make of yer second Unforgivable."

"I still don't know what to make of the first one," he muttered as he pushed himself to his feet and moved to stand in front of the class, facing the Director, unlike the rest of them who had faced out toward the other students. As the cloaked Unspeakable faced him, Harry did everything he could think of to prepare himself. He kept his focus on the figure before him, closed up his Occlumency as tightly as he could after first sending a reassuring feeling toward the girls, and then waited, his body tense for the curse to be cast.

Croaker's gloved hand suddenly snapped up, wand held loosely in their grip as they quietly intoned, "Imperio."

Harry really only had a minimal idea of what to expect, based on what other students had said of their experience as they'd gone along, and Neville's description as well. The Imperius Curse was one of only a few spells that was colorless, giving no indication of when it hit its target, so there was no tracking the direction of the spell, no knowing when it hit him.

"Perform a handstand, Lord Potter," Croaker commanded.

For several long seconds both of them stood perfectly still, the class holding their collective breaths as they waited to see what would happen.

"I'd rather not, thanks all the same," Harry suddenly spoke up, crossing his arms nonchalantly over his chest.

Whispers broke out throughout the class as Moody and Croaker both jerked in surprise, the latter glancing down at their wand for a moment as if wondering if it might be broken.

"Imperio!" Croaker said again, more forcefully and jabbed their wand in Harry's direction. "Do a cartwheel, Lord Potter."

Harry just shook his head, arms still crossed. "I have absolutely no inclination toward gymnastics."

"How're ye doin' that, Potter?" Moody growled, stomping closer to look into Harry's glowing green eyes.

"Doing what? Not sure why the Director is suddenly joking around, but I'm still waiting on the curse to be cast on me." Harry shrugged.

"I assure you, Lord Potter, I was casting correctly both times," Croaker said, their distorted voice sounding distinctly confused. "Are you saying that you felt absolutely no effect at all?"

"I didn't feel anything," Harry admitted as the whispers got louder. "I didn't hear any voice, no feeling of floating… nothing at all."

"Well… that _is_ interesting," Croaker mumbled thoughtfully before gesturing for Harry to return to his seat. After sitting, they continued working their way through the rest of the class until, five students later, Hermione was called to the front, resulting in the exact same reaction as Harry; the curse was cast at her but had absolutely zero effect.

The whispers that broke out once again amongst the bonded's peers, only grew more pronounced when both Daphne and Susan also had no reaction to the curse. By the time they were dismissed, they were under nearly constant watch by everyone else, only their friends not treating them any differently, and the girls were particularly pleased to be able to escape the uncomfortable scrutiny of their classmates and an intensely curious Professor Moody.

#####

Quills scratched quietly over parchment as Neville, Hermione, Susan, and Daphne worked on their class assignments in the Gryffindor Common Room for an hour or so before dinner; when the portrait suddenly swung open, and they looked up just in time to see Ginny Weasley rush into the room then up the stairs to her dorm, sobbing quietly as she went.

 _That can't be good,_ Hermione thought as she looked back at Neville and her bond mates.

The four of them exchanged a baffled look for a moment before the portrait opened again and Harry entered, his broom in one hand, looking a touch wild around the eyes and more than a bit out of sorts.

"What's wrong with you?" Neville asked as Harry walked over and dropped into his usual armchair near the fire, laying the broom on the ground next to his chair.

"I'm not really sure _what_ happened honestly," he said, sounding dazed which caused the girls to frown in a mixture of confusion and concern.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Ginny just asked me out."

The girls flinched while Neville looked bemused. Personally, Hermione felt more than a touch of apprehension shoot through her, old insecurities rising up in the back of her mind, but they were quickly quelled by a flood of reassuring emotions coming from the girls sitting on either side of her.

"She's barely spoken to you before," he pointed out. "Why would she do that?"

"How the devil should I know?" Harry blurted out. "I'm not even certain what she was talking about. I was just out flying my broom. After that defense class, I just wanted to clear my head a bit, you know?" The four of them nodded. "I was coming back in when she stopped me in the Entrance Hall and asked if I'd take her to the Ball. I didn't have the slightest clue what she was talking about, but I told her I wasn't really interested in going on a date with her."

"Were you rude to her at all?" Susan asked and Harry shook his head.

"I don't think so," he said. "I tried to be as nice as I could... really!" he added when the three of them gave him a skeptical look. "I just said that I didn't really know her, and I wasn't interested in going on a date with her. I still don't know what Ball she was talking about, but she started crying and last I saw she was running this way. Did she come in here?"

 _That_ did a lot to reassure Hermione, and she pushed a sensation of gratitude toward the other girls.

"A couple of minutes before you did," Daphne answered, gesturing toward the stairs. "She was crying and ran right up to the dorms."

Harry groaned and slumped down in his chair. "Great. Anyone want to bet how long until Ron shows up yelling at me for upsetting his sister?"

"What about the twins?" Neville asked, smirking when Harry suddenly grew pale.

"They won't bother to say anything," he groaned, "I'll just suddenly find myself the victim of some weird pranks for the next month."

"I don't think you really need to worry about that," Hermione disagreed, her bushy mane bouncing slightly as she shook her head. "They're a lot more practical than Ronald is. They'd likely try to get your version of events first, and as long as you weren't intentionally mean to her, I think you'll be okay."

Harry frowned at the fire, hoping that she was right. "Fingers crossed then," he muttered.

They were silent for a few minutes before Harry sighed and sat up in his chair. "What Ball was she talking about anyway?" he asked.

"Aaannnd that's my cue to be elsewhere," Neville spoke up as he packed up his classwork and books and stood, throwing his bag over one shoulder. "See you guys at dinner," he added before he headed out of the Tower.

"Okay… what was _that_ about?" Harry muttered, confused by his friend's odd behavior.

Instead of answering, Hermione responded to his question with a question of her own, "You really don't know about the Ball?"

"Hermione, I haven't the foggiest notion," he answered, they could feel his honest confusion over the bond, easily matching the expression on his face.

"Hogwarts is hosting a Yule Ball this year," Daphne cut in. "It's a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament."

"How can anything be tradition if it hasn't been held in more than a century?" he asked incredulously. "And when was a Ball ever mentioned?"

"Dumbledore announced it at the Welcoming Feast," Susan explained, grinning at the blank expression on his face. "I'm surprised you didn't notice."

He let out a nervous laugh at that, absently stroking the scar behind his jaw with one finger. "Was that after he mentioned the Dueling and Quidditch Tournaments?"

All three girls nodded and he laughed again. "I was so worried about the whole idea of the Tournament, that I kind of tuned Dumbledore out after that. I just wasn't paying attention."

He thought carefully about that for a moment before several things clicked into place in his head, with the addition of the knowledge that there was a formal dance being held that year recent events started to make considerably more sense.

" _That's_ why we keep seeing those groups of girls standing around whispering and giggling?" he asked. "They're talking about this Ball?"

They nodded again.

"And that's why I've been sensing some odd things from you three, isn't it? You've all been nervous, and apprehensive, and…" He trailed off, eyebrows rising in surprise as one last final detail clicked into place and a sudden panicked expression flitted across his face for a moment before it vanished. "And you've been waiting for me to ask you…"

They nodded again. He lowered his Occlumency enough to catch a glimpse of their emotions over the bond, mixed in with the anxiousness and nerves, that he remembered feeling from the girls before, was a sense of desire that stunned him with its' intensity, and he shook his head in surprise. _What the hell are you supposed to do now, Potter?_ he thought, slamming his shields back in place.

"I-I'm not entirely sure I even _want_ to go to a dance," he muttered, searching desperately for some excuse to get out of the decision he could see looming fast in front of him. "I've never been to one, so I wouldn't have the slightest clue what to do, or how to act, and I don't even know how to dance. I'm pretty sure whoever tries to dance with me'll end up in the hospital wing from me stepping on your toes…"

When he nervously trailed off, his eyes darting everywhere _but_ at the girls sitting in front of him, Hermione and Daphne exchanged a confused look while Susan's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Daphne and I have been to dances many times," she said. "It's a part of pureblood high society, attending social functions. We've managed to avoid any since we started school, but we'll have to start attending some sooner or later, especially with you and Daphne both already Heads of your Houses. We can teach you how to dance, and you too Hermione, if you don't know."

"I know how to dance. I'm no expert but I have danced before."

"As far as what to do and how to act... what you do is have fun with your friends and dance partners, and you act like you would most anywhere else. There's no trick to it, Harry," Susan finished.

He mumbled something unintelligible, staring at the fire in silence for several minutes before Susan spoke up again.

"Harry… can you please drop your Occlumency?"

His head snapped toward her, eyes as wide as they'd ever seen them, and Hermione and Daphne exchanged another confused look, wondering just what their red headed bond mate was up to.

"Why?" he squeaked.

"Because you're a nervous wreck right now, and I don't understand what's got you so anxious. If we could feel what you are… well we might be able to help."

For a moment, sheer panic flooded Harry's mind, he had to fight the ridiculous urge to simply run away. _Why though?_ he thought. _You've been thinking since Blaise asked you for permission to ask Luna out over the summer that the four of you needed to sit down and talk, so why not now? There's a comparison here that maybe they can help with._

Slowly, reluctantly, he lowered his Occlumency shields, letting the girls in. The three of them shivered slightly at the sudden influx of emotions, but quickly settled, their eyes closed as they carefully examined the sensations coming across their bond. When they finally opened their eyes again, Harry shifted nervously in his seat as they stared at him.

"Harry, I need to talk to you for a second."

All four of them turned sharply away as the new voice intruded on them, finding Ron standing nearby, an unusually serious expression on his face. Harry winced as angry spikes shot through his head at the red-head's interruption, and he shot to his feet.

"Just a second, girls," he murmured stepping over to get rid of Ron. "What?" he asked bruskly of the lanky boy after they stepped a few feet away.

"What'd you do to my sister?" Ron demanded without preamble.

Harry started in surprise, more than a little confused, before he suddenly remembered and sighed. "I didn't do anything to your sister," he said, arms crossed as he glared slightly at the taller boy. "She asked me to the Ball and I turned her down-"

"So Ginny isn't good enough for the 'Great Harry Potter'?" Ron cut him off sarcastically.

"I didn't say that," Harry shot back, more than a little irritated with his Housemate. "She and I have hardly ever spoken to each other, and I'm not about to go to a dance with someone I don't even know," he finished.

Ron seemed to consider that for a moment before finally nodding once, curtly. "Fine, I guess," he muttered before he took a step closer, then asked with a glance to the girls behind Harry where they still sat on the sofa, "Which one?" in a low tone.

Harry leaned back as a result of the boys close proximity, staring at him in confusion, "What are you talking about?"

"Which girl are you taking to the Yule Ball?"

Harry cast a furtive glance over his shoulder, hoping they weren't paying attention to him and Ron, only to find three pairs of eyes watching closely.

"I don't know," he finally muttered, turning back to the red-head. "What's it to you anyway?"

"I figure once I know which one you're asking, you can put in a good word for me with one of the others."

"Why in the hell would I do that?" Harry blurted out, surprise quickly giving way to anger.

"You owe me for not beating the crap out of you for hurting Ginny," Ron said, oblivious to the dark scowl Harry was directing at him. "And besides, those three are some of the prettiest birds in Gryffindor. I'd rather go with one of them than end up having to pick an ugly girl."

"You're a real piece of work, you know that Weasley?" Harry growled, wondering just why they'd tried to be friendly with the boy in the past. Not that he'd made any great effort to hang out with them beyond getting last minute help with his class assignments.

"What's your problem?" Ron snapped, his ears and face slowly turning red.

"You're my problem. You act like these girls don't have feelings. Like they're commodities to trade or something. You think I 'owe' you something, and by the way I don't owe you squat, and your answer to that delusion is to trade a _person_ for this imagined debt?"

"Doesn't hurt anyone," Ron muttered. "And what do you care? You're not dating them."

Furious, Harry reached out and grabbed hold of Ron's tie, yanking the boy closer as a commotion started somewhere else in the room. "It doesn't matter if I am or not," he snapped. "I care about them, they're my best friends, and I wouldn't set any of them up with you for anything," Harry growled, his eyes glowing dangerously.

"Jeez!" Ron yelped, struggling to loosen Harry's grip on his tie. "Calm down, Mate, it's not like you're in love with them or anything!"

"But I am-"

Harry cut off his angry shout in mid-sentence as his brain caught up to what he'd been about to say. Like a balloon popping, all of his anger suddenly vanished, and his grip on Ron's tie slackened, allowing the other boy to wriggle free.

"I am in love with them," Harry whispered, stunned as the absolute truth of those words suddenly crashed down on him.

"Right," Ron snorted. "...so which one is it?"

Ron's blatant stupidity cut through the epiphany Harry had just experienced and he growled low in his throat, taking a threatening step toward him when two heads of bright red hair suddenly bounced into view.

"No worries, Harrykins-"

"-we'll take it from here." Fred and George cut in as each of them grabbed one of their brother's arms, lifted him off the ground, and started carrying him away despite his angry protests.

"We think you and-"

"-your girls should go-"

"-have yourselves a chat-"

They ping-ponged before saying in unison, "Leave the idiot to us."

In seconds they were gone, swiftly carrying their brother up the stairs toward the dorms. A glance around told Harry that the crowd in the Common Room had noticed the altercation, but his glare caused most of them to quickly turn away.

"Harry?"

He turned at the sound of Hermione's voice to find the three of them standing just behind him, hopeful expressions on their faces, even as he was suddenly struck by a confusing wave of emotions from all three of them.

"Are you really…."

He couldn't even attempt to make heads or tails of the mix of feelings coming from the girls and simply nodded shamefully.

"I… I don't understand how but-"

"Maybe we should take this discussion somewhere else?" Susan cut in and they took another look around the room, noting that, while most of the other students had turned away, many were still casting furtive looks in their direction now and then.

"Right… okay," Harry muttered, nodding absently as the girls packed up their work. After quickly rushing up to their dorm to drop their bags while Harry put his broom away in his dorm, they met back in the Common Room where Harry clamped down on his Occlumency again, just to keep back the rising rush of panic that was filling him.

They didn't say anything. Hermione and Susan simply looped one of their arms through each of his and with Daphne leading the way, they left the Tower, heading directly for the Room of Requirement. She paced quickly back and forth in front of the blank stretch of wall, when the door appeared she practically yanked it open, gesturing for the three of them to enter ahead of her.

The room beyond the door was the smaller recreation of their Common Room, including only their corner with the low table, sofa, and the armchair that Harry prefered to sit in. Hermione and Susan lead him over to the chair and gently pushed him into it before they took their places on the sofa, with Hermione in the middle between Daphne and Susan, each of them looking expectantly at the raven haired teen across from them.

Harry fidgeted nervously, one hand stroking the scar behind his jaw while the other tightly gripped the arm of his chair, he sat in complete silence, as if not sure what to say. The girls studied him carefully for several minutes, equally at a loss as to how to start the discussion they knew they needed to have, when Hermione finally cleared her throat, drawing their attention to her.

"Harry… could you tell us why you were really looking to get out of asking us to the Yule Ball?" she asked gently, causing Harry to blink in surprise for a moment before his hand slowly lowered from his scar and he frowned in confusion.

"I just… I didn't know what to say," he muttered.

"What do you mean?" Susan asked. "It's not difficult, Harry."

Harry snorted, "Easy for you to say." His eyes flitted from one of them to another, "I don't… I care about all three of you. I don't know how you expect me to ask one of you to this Ball and reject the other two. How am I supposed to make a choice like that?"

"Who said you had to make a choice?"

Harry's eyes darted to Hermione, confusion evident in their glowing depths. "What do you mean?"

"It's simple," she explained, sitting back between the girls on either side of her with a small smile turning up the corners of her lips. "Take all three of us."

Harry's jaw dropped open as he gaped at her for a moment, looking to Susan and Daphne, he noted that both of them were smiling and nodding.

"But... I can't do that," he protested.

"Why not?" Hermione countered. "Trust me, Harry, I looked up the rules last weekend. There is no rule that says a person can only take _one_ date. And there's also no rule that says someone _can't_ take three dates. Since there's no rule against it, and if we all agree, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you taking all three of us."

She paused for a moment, hesitating only slightly when the girls on either side of her took hold of her nearest hand and squeezed encouragingly. This was probably not the ideal circumstances to attempt broaching this subject with Harry, _Not that there would probably ever_ be _an ideal time_ , Hermione reminded herself.

For months they'd been moving along, getting closer and closer, but something was still holding Harry back. He _needed_ to know what the future could hold for the four of them, if there was any possibility of getting through to him, she had to take the chance Ron Weasley's stupidity had presented her with.

"In fact… there's no rule at all that says that the four of us can't be together… if that's what we want. And _we_ want that, Harry. The only question is, do you?"

Harry's shock at her suggestion, that he take all three girls to the Yule Ball, quickly morphed into confusion over her choice of words as she'd continued talking. When she finished, he was left with a deep frown on his face as he tried to puzzle out the meaning behind her words.

"You're… you're not talking about the Ball anymore… are you..." he asked, though his tone implied that it wasn't really a question.

The three of them exchanged a look before Susan leaned forward in her seat, blue eyes focused intently on their bond mate.

"Harry… did you really mean it? What you said in the Common Room. Are you in love with us?"

He stared at them for a moment, then he suddenly stood and started pacing in front of the fire, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"What does it matter?" he muttered. "It's pointless to think that way."

"It's not pointless, Harry," Daphne insisted. "We need to know. We need you to tell us-"

"It doesn't matter!" he barked out, cutting her off. "What kind of person would that make me?" he asked. "What kind of person thinks they can actually love three different women at the same time? That's not normal."

" _We're_ not normal," Hermione pointed out. "What part of our friendship, our relationship, has _ever_ been normal? We found each other in a strange way, and we fell in love with you under strange circumstances. Our lives are filled with danger, and chaos, and more uncertainty than most people will ever deal with, and that's just been in the last three years. So what part of 'normal' has ever applied to us?"

"You only fell in love with me because of this bond," he denied. "If Voldemort hadn't tried to kill me, my soul wouldn't have been split apart, and you wouldn't have gotten stuck with it," he almost yelled, "You wouldn't have my scars," he whispered, before firming again, "You wouldn't have dealt with all the pain I've been put through over the years. You wouldn't be here with me if it wasn't for that bond. You wouldn't have been in so much danger the last three years. You could be out with your own friends, finding someone that wouldn't have to split his attention between the three of you. I promised you all that I'd try, and I have been, but I still don't understand what you want. How… how could you be happy with someone that couldn't love you completely?"

By the time he wound down, Harry's grip on his occlumency had slipped, and the girls were inundated with wave upon wave of self-loathing and doubt, the likes of which they'd rarely experienced, and it rocked them back in their seats for a moment before they were able to shove the emotion aside and focus their attention back on him.

"So, you're finally admitting that you're in love with us?" Hermione pressed.

Harry threw his arms up in the air in exasperation, "Yes!" he practically shouted, "And I feel like a complete tool for even thinking I could actually-"

"You are such an utterly infuriating, noble, _idiot_ , Potter," Daphne snapped angrily. Harry spun in the middle of his pacing, leveling a shocked stare in her direction. "What do you think you've been doing... holding a part of us hostage or something?" she asked. "That if you didn't have part of our souls that we wouldn't love you? We wouldn't _want_ to be around you, or be with you?"

Reluctantly, Harry shrugged, not entirely certain what to say to that, and Hermione stood, moving over until she was standing right in front of him, staring him in the eye for several long moments.

"That _is_ what you've been thinking, isn't it?" she murmured. "Dammit, Harry… even if your soul hadn't been torn apart, and the pieces hadn't ended up with us… the fact that we bonded shows we were still soul mates. It's very possible we still would have found each other. Who knows? Maybe it would have taken longer. Maybe we _wouldn't_ all be here together right now, but it's possible. What does it matter?"

While she was talking she raised her hand up slowly, his glowing green eyes tracking the motion warily, as if expecting her to hit him at any moment, until her right hand came to rest gently on his cheek. When her palm cupped his cheek, a measure of the tension in his body bled away, and a moment later Daphne and Susan were standing on either side of them, each placing a hand on the back of his neck.

"You asked how you could love three women at once," Susan said. "By that logic how can I love two women and one man at once? If it's such a horrible thing for you to think you could love all three of us, wouldn't I be just as terrible a person?"

"Same here," Daphne said, causing him to turn away from Susan to look to her. "We said it before, Harry, the bond might have given us the _opportunity_ to fall in love, but it didn't _make_ us fall in love. All it did was put us together, the rest was entirely us."

"And I think you're forgetting something else," Hermione said. "We love you, but we love each other as well. You being with the three of us… that isn't limiting us from finding _one_ person to love us completely. We wouldn't be trying to share the affection of one man, because we would all be sharing each other equally. Just because you love all three of us doesn't mean that we'd receive any less love or affection in a relationship between the four of us."

Nervously, she licked her lips before she pushed on. "We want to be with you, Harry. We want you to be with us… all of us."

"If being together means that you find yourself with three lovers, then we're each getting three lovers out of the relationship as well," Daphne pointed out. "I don't think any of us are really ready for too much right now, but eventually I have every intention of making love to you, Harry, and I intend to do the same with Hermione and Susan too, one day. When we're all ready."

All four of them were blushing brilliantly by the time she finished, but at his incredulous look, Susan and Hermione both nodded their agreement.

"Do you remember what we were told, and what we read, about how the bond is completed?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. An act of love, right?"

"An act of love where both parties understand and accept that there _is_ love there. We completed our part of the bond with just a kiss. Me and Daphne and Susan. But we've kissed you, and you've kissed us, and your part of the bond hasn't finalized, and it won't, not until you honestly believe that you _can_ love us, and you accept completely that we can, and do, love you too."

He looked hopeful and doubtful in equal measure.

"Please, Harry," Hermione whispered. "Please, just trust us. We _want_ this. Not what we've been doing, but an honest real relationship. We want you to finish bonding with us. We want to feel that you love us."

The struggle on his face was beautiful and heartbreaking to watch for the three of them. Fear, and doubt, and love raged in his vibrant eyes. The muscles in his cheeks twitched, his brow furrowed and smoothed, and furrowed again repeatedly, as he fought an internal battle that they were powerless to help him with any more than they already had.

Whatever happened with their relationship, everything was entirely up to him now.

Finally, after nearly five minutes of silent debate, he let out a pent up breath and his face smoothed out. A quiet chuckle escaped him, surprising them with the sudden shift in his mood.

"I owe Blaise a _huge_ apology."

At their confused looks he shook his head, dismissing the unasked question before focusing his attention back on the brunette in front of him.

"To hell with it," he muttered, " _allegria_." Before Hermione had a chance to react, his arms snaked around her waist and he pulled her flush against his body, his lips quickly closing the distance to hers.

There was a passionate hunger to his kiss, so different from how gentle he usually was, that excited her. It stoked a fire in her chest as her heart began to race, and she moaned quietly against his mouth, her eyes falling closed as her arms slid around his neck. Hermione could feel Daphne and Susan's hands resting on her forearms, but that was a dim realization, her senses were completely consumed by the boy, the young man, that held her so firmly in his arms.

When they finally pulled away from each other, she felt dazed, her breath coming fast, and she couldn't stop the pleased smile that spread across her face. Leaning forward, she pecked him on the lips again, and stepped back to let Susan take her place in his arms. She was grinning broadly as she wrapped her arms around his neck, eagerly bringing her mouth to his.

Hermione let out a startled gasp when their lips met and a brilliant aurora of light exploded around them. Gold mixed with silver coiled and twisted around auburn blended with silver and green, their auras tangling around each other as Susan plunged her tongue into his mouth and his arms tightened around her. In seconds the auras around them bled together until streaks of gold suffused the light that surrounded Susan, while her original auburn had been added to the blend of gold and silver that surrounded Harry.

"It did that with you two as well," Daphne whispered from the other side of the couple between them. Hermione nodded but didn't say anything, just watching as two of the people that she loved the most in the world expressed their love for each other.

The light around Harry and Susan finally faded away as they pulled back. Susan grinned, tugging lightly at his bottom lip with her teeth, before she shot Hermione a wink causing the brunette to blush brightly, remembering how she'd done that very thing to Susan at the World Cup.

Susan moved back, making room for Daphne and the gorgeous blond smirked, her hands sliding up Harry's chest and neck to tangle in his hair as she pulled him down to her, the two of them completely oblivious to a third corona of light pouring from their bodies as they lost themselves in each other.

As the shortest of the three girls, Harry really had to stoop a bit more in order to kiss her properly. The seconds ticked by, and he eventually wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and straightened up, lifting her completely off the ground. She let out a startled squeal into his mouth when her feet suddenly left the ground, but instinctively her legs came up, wrapping around his waist as he hoisted her up higher, his arms crossed under her bum to support her.

Finally, after an indeterminable amount of time had passed them by, he loosened his grip, letting her slide down his body until their lips parted, the light fading away, and she was left standing again on wobbly legs. Daphne was reasonably sure that her hands, tightly gripping his shoulders, were the only reason she was still standing.

Blindly, he reached out to grab hold of Susan and Hermione, pulling them close to join him with Daphne.

"I still haven't actually said it, have I?" he asked after a few moments spent simply holding his girls close.

"Not yet," Hermione said and he took a slow, deep breath.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I love you."

Finally hearing the words for the first time from the broken, but healing young man, she couldn't help but smile.

"I love you too, Harry."

"Daphne?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I love you," he murmured quietly.

Her arms tightened around his neck as she rested her cheek against his chest, "Merlin, I love you too, Harry."

"Susan?"

"Yes, Harry?" she asked, an impish grin twisting her lips. She wasn't sure how discussing the Yule Ball had led them where they were, but she didn't think she'd ever been happier in her life.

"I love you, Susan," he said causing a contented sigh to escape her.

"I love you too, Harry. I knew you'd come around, eventually."

"I'm sorry it took me so long."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," Hermione told him, burrowing closer against his side. "You had a few more problems to deal with than most people. We'd have waited twice as long, and still been more than happy that you finally understood."

Eventually they pulled away, and the girls directed Harry to the sofa. Pushing him into the middle with Susan and Daphne cuddled on either side of him, he pulled Hermione down until she was sitting in his lap, her legs stretched over Susan's again with Daphne helping to support her back.

They sat there in silence for a time, there were no words necessary at that moment between them, as they simply enjoyed each other's presence, their emotions bleeding back and forth across their bond.

Before long Harry became aware of the steadily growing sense of curiosity coming from the girl in his lap.

"Go ahead, Hermione," he told her, a small smirk twisting his lips. "You've got a question, I can tell."

"What was that, what you said?" she blurted out, unable to contain her curiosity a moment longer.

For a moment he was confused. "What'd I say?" he asked, thinking back over the last twenty minutes or so in an effort to pin down what exact comment she was referring to.

"Just before you kissed me," she muttered, her cheeks pinking slightly, "you said something like… ' _allegria_ '?"

"Oh, that." He chuckled softly a broad smile on his face. "Just some advice I got a while back that I should have listened to more closely. Blaise told me about it. It's an Italian word. It means happiness or joy. We were talking at the beginning of the summer, and he said it was a word he sort of took as his personal motto, and suggested that I look for it. Look for my _allegria_ , my happiness, and when I found it, he said, I should ignore fear and doubt, just grab onto it and never let go."

The girls considered that for a moment as slow smiles spread across their faces, and Hermione leaned up to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Remind us to find something really special for Blaise for Christmas this year."

"I'll make sure of it," he said, his arms tightening around her waist. "You're positive that we can do this?" he asked a minute later. "The four of us together? I don't have the slightest clue how this is supposed to work."

"Neither do we," Daphne said from where her head was resting on his shoulder. "But we'll figure it out together."

He considered that for a minute before nodding slowly. "Well… would the three of you be my dates for the Yule Ball?"

By the time the four of them made it down to the Great Hall for dinner, Harry couldn't remember if any of them had actually answered his question with words. He figured that the extremely enthusiastic kisses he'd received from them in response to his request, were answer enough on their own.

#####

For a second time, in a room deep within the Department of Mysteries, two people appeared in complete silence and without entering through any door. Still dressed in muggle clothing the man's white shirt had a picture of a wicker picnic basket on it and in blue lettering above it were the words:

 _Where are we going,_

 _and why am I in this handbasket?_

"That's all of them," the woman said, sighing softly as she stared at the four names on the wall.

"And it's about bloody time," the man groused, his eyes narrowed irritably as he also examined the tree on the wall before them.

The four names had shifted, moving closer together and now, instead of golden lines connecting them they were surrounded by a circle of gold. The lettering of the names themselves shifted and shimmered with an ever changing kaleidoscopic display of gold, silver, green, and auburn.

They silently observed the ever shifting array of colors for a time before she turned, brushing her long black hair back over her shoulders in the process. "When should we approach them?" she asked.

"I want to say sooner than later… but with what we've learned is going to happen this year… it might be better to wait and talk to them this summer when everything is at least a _bit_ calmer."

"That long?" she asked, surprised by the response.

"There's really no point in approaching them any sooner. These four are the youngest ever, there's only so much they would be able to do. From what we've heard, they're basically doing it already anyway." He frowned, his brow furrowing into deep lines as he thought for a moment before resolutely shaking his head. "No. We'll have to wait. The Hydra has risen. There's no point approaching them until the Adversary makes his opening move."

"Just because we can't help them, doesn't mean we can't meet them and observe," she pointed out.

"There'll be plenty of opportunity to observe them in action this year," he said, nodding silently in agreement.

"Well, let's see what opportunity will present itself first," she said, smiling as she looped her arm through his, turning them both around to walk across the room toward the door. Between one step and the next they simply vanished, once again in utter silence and leaving no indication how they arrived, how they left, or that they had ever even been there to begin with.


	50. Of Memories and Vision

**Author's Notes: Well… it's been a while, hasn't it? Five months, give or take a few days. Apologies all around, honestly life just got away from me and finding the motivation to write was difficult. I'm out of my slump, got some things figured out and I know you've all read it before from other authors that didn't follow through but this story WILL NOT BE ABANDONED.**

 **I have every intention of finishing this, I just had a lot of trouble with this particular chapter on top of everything else.**

 **So, this chapter we're going to see the immediate aftermath of the bonded completing their bond! Yay! *confetti falls from the sky* And we will also be truly earning our M rating for reasons other than the World Cup Massacre. It's gonna be fun.**

 **Disclaimer: Still don't own jack. Not making any money off of this.**

 **And now, with no further ado, Chapter 49 of Soul Scars. Enjoy!**

Soul Scars Part Four

Allegria

By,

Rtnwriter

Harry was six years old, sitting wedged between his parents on their couch as Professor Dumbledore explained the mysterious scars that kept appearing on his body.

 _What?_

He was seven and didn't think he'd ever been more excited in his life. It was his birthday today and mummy and daddy had invited his entire class to a birthday party for him.

 _What is this?_

As the time for the party to start arrived he sat on the steps leading upstairs, waiting for the first of his classmates to arrive. Seconds ticked away into minutes that became hours and no one came.

"Pumpkin?"

Harry turned, looking up at his dad, tears streaking his cheeks.

"No one came," he whispered brokenly.

Daniel Granger sighed and sat down on the step next to him. "I know, Princess," he said. "I'm so sorry."

"S'not your fault," he sniffed, head down, face hidden behind a curtain of bushy brown hair.

"It isn't your fault either," daddy said, pulling him up and into his lap. "You are smart, and beautiful, and you are so kind. Those kids don't know what they're missing by not getting to know you."

 _This didn't happen to me._

That night, after the food had been put away and the decorations were thrown out, Harry climbed into bed and slowly opened the cover of one of the presents his parents had given him.

"'The Neverending Story'," he muttered as he settled in to read.

#####

"I've told you before, Freak!" her uncle bellowed, dragging her through the house, one meaty fist wrapped around her arm, "I will not have your unnaturalness in this house!"

"But I didn't do anything!" Susan pleaded, desperate to understand what she'd done this time.

 _What's going on? Where's Auntie?_

"LIAR!"

The backhand that followed that enraged scream hurt, but not as much as when her five year old frame was unceremoniously flung into her cupboard. She hit the far wall and crumpled to the thin, stained crib mattress on the floor, biting her lip not to cry out.

Crying only seemed to encourage him.

 _Oh, Harry…_

"You'll be in here for a week if I have anything to say about it," Vernon hissed, beady eyes holding hers with a furious glare above his ridiculous moustache. "You're nothing but a worthless freak. A strain on good, honest, _normal_ people like us."

With that the door slammed shut and she was left in the dark, listening to her uncle's heavy footsteps as he walked away. Lying in the dark she curled up painfully on her side and absolutely refused to cry, all the while wondering what she'd done to be so hated by her only family.

#####

Daphne looked up from her book as the chime for the Floo rang through the house. Excitement gripped her and she scrambled madly out of her bed, book forgotten behind her in her rush. Her small, four-year-old feet, pattered across the carpet in the hall before she carefully made her way down the stairs, one tiny hand gripping the banister.

Once she reached the downstairs hall her speed picked up again until she was running as fast as her little body could take her. On her left, a person stepped through a doorway and she suddenly found herself swept up into a very familiar pair of arms.

"Hello there, my little Susie," her aunt said as she lifted Daphne up in her arms. "How has your day been?"

"Fun!" Daphne cried, grinning broadly at her aunt. "Binky played with me after bre'fast and we looked at numbers and letters and I was readin' a piture book when I heard the chime."

Amelia laughed quietly, carrying her niece through the house toward the kitchen. "Sounds like you had a busy day," she said and Daphne nodded, bright red hair flying wildly around her head with the motion.

"Yeah, I did," Daphne chirped. "And Binky showed me lotsa fun magic too!"

Daphne was still explaining the wonders of elf magic to her aunt as the woman carried her into the kitchen and sat her down on the counter, her little arms splayed out wide to indicate just how amazing the whole day had been.

 _Is that what it's supposed to be like? To be loved, without being afraid of your own family? Susan… you don't understand just how good you really had it…_

As Daphne wound down Amelia reached into her robes and pulled out a stack of parchment, carefully folded over, and began to flatten it out on the counter.

"Susan, I have some good news," she said. "With… with your mum and dad gone… someone needs to take care of you, Susie."

Daphne nodded, sadness creeping in behind the joy of recounting her day and she took a deep, shuddering breath. "You been takin' care of me, Auntie 'Melia."

"I know I have, baby. But until now I've just been what's called a guardian. I take care of you because we're family, but there's a lot of legal stuff that goes into all of it. Do you understand?"

Daphne nodded slowly, her little brow creased into a frown. "I think so…"

Amelia smiled, a soft, gentle thing that barely turned up the corners of her lips. "It's a complicated process, little one. Don't worry too much about the details, that's what I'm for, right?"

Daphne nodded again, more emphatically that time.

"Well, I wanted things to be more official. I could have remained your guardian, but I wanted to be more than that." She tapped the parchment where it rested on the counter next to Daphne. "This stack of parchment, when I sign it and file it at the Ministry, it'll make you my daughter as far as the law is concerned."

Daphne frowned again. "So… mummy… mummy wouldn't be my mummy anymore?" she whispered.

Arms wrapped around her and a curtain of vibrant red hair obscured her view.

" _Never_ ," Amelia hissed, fiercely. "Your mum will _always_ be your mum. She loved you so much, Susie. Her _and_ your dad. You were their special gift, and they couldn't have loved you any more if they'd tried. If I file these papers, all it means is that the law will consider me your mum as well. You can keep calling me Auntie if that's what you want. I'm not trying to replace your mum, I'd never do that. I just want to be able to take care of you with everything I can, and adopting you would give me more options to protect you."

After several minutes Amelia pulled back, watery blue eyes regarding her carefully. "Do you want me to adopt you, Susie?" she asked. "I won't, if you don't want me to. We can wait until you're older and you can understand it all better if you want. I won't be upset at all if that's what you'd prefer."

Daphne considered the question as carefully as a four-year-old can, her little face scrunched up in thought as she tugged absently at a lock of her hair.

"You're my family, no matter what, right?" she finally asked and Amelia smiled broadly at her.

"Always, Susie. We're all each other has left, right now. One day you're going to find someone that's going to join your family and you'll build a new family of your own, but you and I will always be family, even when that day comes and after."

"You mean my soulmate?" Daphne asked.

"Yes, Susie."

Daphne made a face. "But he's a boy," she complained. "Boys are yucky."

Amelia laughed. "You're not always going to think that, little one, trust me."

Daphne wasn't so sure about that but decided to move on. "If you want to be my mummy… I'd like that, Auntie 'Melia."

Smiling again, Amelia signed the parchment and a moment later it glowed brightly for a few seconds before she folded it up and tucked it back into her robes.

"That's it," Amelia said. "You, you amazing, beautiful, wonderful little girl. You are now officially _my_ little girl."

With the exuberance only a child can produce Daphne flung herself off the counter and into her aunt's arms, clutching tightly to the older witch with every ounce of strength in her little body.

"I love you, Auntie." she whispered against her new mother's neck.

"I love you too, Susie."

#####

 _I hate him_.

Hermione would have glared at the man before her had it not been for the years of training and tutoring she'd already received that let her keep a placid, emotionless mask in place.

"What is it, Daphne?" her father demanded, standing tall and imposing in front of his desk. "I'm very busy and I don't have all day to entertain your whims."

"I don't want to keep doing this," she said after taking a fortifying breath. "My lessons are… they're too hard, Father. They're painful, and frightening. I don't want to do it anymore."

 _Bastard._

Hermione expected an argument. She expected anger, disappointment, even disgust at her latest failure. What she did not expect was an indifferent shrug and a negligent wave of one hand in her direction.

"Fine."

"F-fine?" she blurted out before she could stop herself.

Cyril Greengrass nodded. "Fine," he repeated. "If you're too weak, too useless to be what your House needs you to be, then fine. I'll not waste anymore time on a lost cause."

 _She is not useless, you loathsome, horrid man!_

Almost unable to believe her good fortune Hermione started to turn, ready to leave the office before her Father changed his mind. She'd barely managed to turn even a quarter of the way when he continued speaking.

"Of course… if _you_ don't fulfill your role to the House, then I'll have to find someone who will…"

She whipped back, icy blue gaze meeting icy blue with a dumbfounded expression cracking through her mask for a moment before she was able to school her expression back into placidity.

"What do you mean, Father?" she asked as politely as she could force herself to be.

"This House needs a proper heir. If you're not going to do your duty to your House then I'm sure your sister will. She's still young enough to begin training."

"No!" she blurted out, terror shooting through her.

He kept talking as if she hadn't said a thing. "Of course… with how you've turned out… obviously your instructors went too easy on you. I'll have to make sure to instruct them to be much harder on Astoria if we want her to properly learn her lessons."

"You can't!" she screamed.

"I can do anything I want!" he bellowed back, his voice booming throughout the office. " _You_ are a disappointment to me and to _my_ House. I will not have you sully the name of Greengrass! If you won't do your duty I'll have a betrothal contract ready for you by next week and you won't be my problem any longer. Maybe once your sister begins her lessons I'll get an heir I can be proud of, even if neither of you are the son I would prefer!"

"You can't!" she insisted, shaking her head wildly. "Astoria… you can't do this to her. This torture…"

"Merlin you are _weak!_ " he snarled, venomously. "Torture? Your lessons are not torture you simpering little pest! They are to teach you the proper place and bearing of a Lady of a Most Ancient and Noble House! Since you're obviously too weak to learn what you need to your sister will have to take your place."

"NO!"

Hermione didn't know what possessed her, what mad thought made her believe she could get away with it, but she suddenly flung herself at the towering figure of her father, fully intent on attacking him.

Pain exploded across the right side of her face as he moved faster than she'd thought possible, his right arm coming up to backhand her just as she came within reach. A pain filled cry escaped her as she was flung back by the force of the blow and her hand came up to the side of her jaw, coming away wet with blood.

Shaking his hand against the sting from striking her he strode forward and glared down at her where she lay sprawled across the floor.

"You have one chance to change your tune, Daphne," he hissed dangerously. "Are you going to return to your lessons, or am I setting up sessions for Astoria?"

Hermione's mind spun. Astoria was too gentle, too kind and carefree. These lessons wouldn't teach her anything, not the way _he_ had them taught. They would destroy her.

Slowly, she pushed back the tears that wanted to well up in her eyes even as she pushed herself to her feet. She lowered her hands to her sides, letting the blood from the cut behind her jaw drip down the side of her neck to stain the collar of her robes.

She would never let this… _monster,_ do to her little sister what had already been done to her. She would be a shield, standing between Astoria and the beast that was their father.

"That won't be necessary, Sir," she said, once again hiding behind her mask, her emotions shoved ruthlessly down somewhere deep inside. "If you'll excuse me, my lessons start in half an hour and I believe I need to change."

He eyed her carefully for a moment before giving a curt nod. "Get out," he snapped. "And let this be the last I ever hear of anything like this."

Wordlessly, Hermione turned and left the office, carefully closing the door behind her before she made her way to her rooms to clean off the blood and change before her lesson. With every step her determination hardened. She would do everything she could to protect her sister. _That_ was her purpose.

#####

Four pairs of eyes opened simultaneously. Deep blue. Cinnamon brown. Icy blue. Glowing emerald green.

Four pairs of eyes took in the familiar ceiling of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing in the early hours of morning, if the quality of the light in the room was anything to go by.

"Okay… I'm pretty sure I can honestly say that this is really _not_ my fault, this time," Harry said after blinking several times at the unexpected sight above him.

"Anyone have any clue how we got here?" Hermione asked.

"Haven't the foggiest," Harry, Daphne, and Susan spoke in perfect unison, as if with a single voice. Harry frowned at the sensations he could feel over their bond. Moments before speaking he had felt absolutely certain that the girls were going to say precisely the same words. Like a voice in the back of his mind, feeding him the lines just before they were said aloud.

Hermione opened her mouth but said nothing for a moment before closing it again, words escaping her for the moment.

"What's the last thing anyone remembers?" Daphne asked after several minutes passed them by in silence.

Another minute passed before all four of them suddenly sat bolt upright in their respective beds and four voices chimed out, "I was you!"

#####

Neville finished his breakfast Sunday morning and pushed his plate away before draining the last of his pumpkin juice from his goblet. Morning meal consumed, he turned and cast his gaze across the other House Tables to see if the rest of his friends were finished.

Immediately Blaise and Tracey at the Slytherin table caught his eye, both of them sitting quietly with empty plates in front of them. At the Ravenclaw Table, Luna was building what looked like a trebuchet made of out strips of bacon, bangers, and pieces of carefully cut up toast.

He shook his head and glanced at the Hufflepuff table to find Hannah watching him carefully. With a silent nod he stood and headed for Luna, reaching her just as the lone 'Puff and their two Slytherin friends joined them.

"Ready to go see them?" he asked of the waifish blond and she immediately abandoned her culinary construction project and stood, looking up at him with a small smile.

"It will be nice to talk to them, again," she said as the five of them left the Great Hall and started making their way through the castle corridors toward the Hospital Wing

"If they're even awake," Blaise muttered quietly to himself. Not quietly enough, however, as the other four all turned to stare at him and he shrugged. "Hey, I'm just being honest. I hope they're okay, but they've been out for two days straight now," he said in his defense, as Neville in particular glared angrily at him.

"He didn't mean anything by it, Neville," Luna spoke up, her airy voice cutting through the tense silence with ease as she took one of Blaise's hands in her own, "and there's nothing to worry about in any case. The nargles told me this morning that they're already awake."

Neville scowled for a moment at their joined hands but then he took a deep, calming breath and let it out in a long sigh. "Sorry," he muttered. "I'm just worried about them."

"We're all worried about them, Nev," Blaise pointed out calmly.

Neville hummed something wordless in the back of his throat that might have been agreement before he turned his attention to Luna. "Thank you, Luna," he said, "and I really hope your nargles were right."

Luna suddenly burst out into delighted peals of laughter to the complete confusion of the rest of them. "Silly Neville," she finally managed to gasp out through her amusement. "They're not _my_ nargles. They're not anyone's nargles, really." She suddenly became very serious, all trace of mirth vanishing in an instant and her silvery blue eyes held Neville's gaze when she said, " _nobody_ owns nargles."

Nevilled fidgeted, slightly unnerved by her intense scrutiny. "Err… right… my mistake."

The rest of their walk was completed in a mildly uneasy silence for the young Longbottom while Hannah, Tracey, and Blaise all smirked at his unease and Luna skipped along, humming quietly to herself, apparently oblivious to the atmosphere she'd created.

Neville was never more happy to see the doors to the Hospital Wing ahead of them and he strode a bit faster, pulling ahead of the rest of the group. Reaching the doors, he pulled them open and walked quickly into the room, hoping to regain some measure of his dignity while he was at it. He made it a half-a-dozen steps before he stumbled to a halt, staring with wide eyes at the scene before him.

Madam Pomfrey stood in the center of the room, watching her four patients with a kind of dazed confusion about her, while Harry, Hermione, Daphne, and Susan ignored the world around them entirely. As the rest of their friends came to a stop by Neville, they watched as Harry stood from the bed where he'd been sitting with Hermione and moved over to sit next to Daphne, even as Susan shifted slightly on the bed, all without looking away from her discussion with Hermione, to make room for him.

Susan stood a moment later and took the place on Hermione's bed that Harry had just vacated when the bushy haired witch's attention suddenly shifted from Susan to look across the space between the two beds at Daphne and Harry cut himself off in mid sentence to suddenly begin speaking to Susan.

While they stood there watching, the four of them shifted beds and positions half a dozen more times within two minutes, never ceasing a chaotic, seemingly unintelligible conversation that wandered from one person to the next without pause or consideration of who was speaking.

"... but I still don't understand-"

"-what happened," Hermione said, finishing off the sentence that Harry had started.

"I saw everything-"

"-but not like I experienced it myself-"

"-it was like watching one of those muggle films-"

"-but on fast forward! Like I was watching it-"

"-but I don't know everything. Only a few pieces where-"

"-I felt like I was experiencing everything myself."

Hermione to Daphne to Susan, back to Daphne to Harry before returning to Hermione again.

The rapid fire back and forth and smooth transition from one voice to the next was so seamless the Weasley twins would've been green with envy. To the observers it didn't feel like watching four different people finishing each other's sentences, but one person speaking from four different voices.

"They've been doing this for the last half an hour," Madam Pomfrey suddenly said, startling Neville out of his daze and he jerked, turning toward her with a confused expression etched on his face.

Neville turned back to his friends and blinked at the head of silvery blond hair that'd joined the four bonded. He hadn't even noticed Luna moving but there she was, sitting calmly at the foot of the first bed where Harry was sitting once again with Hermione as she chatted happily with them.

"The nargles said you were awake," Luna was saying, smiling brightly. "I'm so glad the four of you finished your bond. It has been a bit difficult watching you be incomplete."

"It's good to see you, Luna-"

"- but what-"

"-happened to us?" Hermione, Daphne, and Susan asked as Luna's head swiveled from person to person to follow the flow of the conversation.

"I don't know," she said, shrugging her slender shoulders. She lifted her hand and moved it through the air around Hermione's head, her eyes unfocused. "Your colors were always so bright but… the mixture is so beautiful now…" she trailed off, a note of wonder in her voice and the four bonded exchanged a look.

"Miss Lovegood if you could move from the bed please, and if the four of you could get back to your own beds, I'd appreciate it," Poppy said, suddenly moving forward, determined to bring some semblance of order back to her domain. "I'm happy to see the four of you awake again, but I'd prefer to find out what's going on and determine if you are at any kind of risk."

Luna pouted, but dutifully removed herself from the bed so the bonded could move back to their respective places as Madam Pomfrey began her examinations. While she did that Neville and the rest of them pulled up chairs and waited until the mediwitch was finished so they could set themselves up at the foot of the beds as close to the middle between the four of them as possible.

"Anyone want to explain-"

"-what happened? Why are-"

"-we in the hospital wing?" Daphne and Harry asked causing their friends to glance back and forth between them.

"Uh…" Neville trailed off, feeling distinctly out of sorts for a moment before shaking off his reaction to their unnerving display. "Is there any way you guys could stop doing that?" he asked. "I mean… is it something you can control or…" His voice fell off again as he wasn't entirely certain how to word the question he wanted to ask and the four of them exchanged a look before shrugging in perfect unison.

"I think we can," Harry said.

"It's weird. It's not like… like we're feeling compelled, or that we _have_ to finish each other's sentences that way," Hermione slowly added in, her brow furrowed in thought.

"It's just that we _know_ what we're going to say," Susan offered. "Not like we're reading each other's minds but… it's just a feeling."

"My scans show you all to be in perfect health," Madam Pomfrey cut in, frowning at her wand. "As to what happened… Lord Longbottom? Would you care to explain?"

"I got up Friday morning and went down to wait in the Common Room for the rest of you," Neville said. "By ten after five when none of you had come down I started to get worried, so I went up to check on Harry."

"Wait, what day is it?" Hermione asked.

"It's Sunday morning, Miss Granger," Poppy offered and the four of them sat back in shock for a moment to realize they'd been unconscious for two days before Harry waved one hand for Neville to continue.

"Anyway, I went up to check on Harry, but he was out and wouldn't wake up no matter what I tried. I even splashed cold water on his face and nothing." He shrugged apologetically at Harry's frown while the girls all giggled slightly at their bond mate's behavior. "I was desperate," Neville pointed out in his defense, but Harry snorted out a laugh and just motioned for him to keep going.

"When I couldn't get Harry to wake up I ran down and tried to run up to check on the girls."

All four of them winced at that and Neville gave a rueful shrug.

"Yeah… woke the whole damn tower up when a siren started blaring and the stairs turned into a slide and dumped me on my bum."

"No boys are allowed in the girls dorms," Hermione lectured and Neville frowned.

"I know that," he said. "But I wasn't trying to peek or visit a girlfriend or something. I was worried and everyone was asleep. It wasn't like there was a girl downstairs I could ask to go check on you, Hermione. Either way, it got the job done. The girls came pouring down and I managed to ask Lavender and Parvati to check on you. While they were doing that, Professor McGonagall showed up and I explained to her how Harry wasn't waking up.

"It didn't take very long before she had all four of you on your way here and we've all been lost, wondering what the hell happened to you since."

"I think you set a new record for yourself, Harry," Blaise cut in, a small smirk tugging at his mouth. "Barely a week into term and you wind up in the Hospital Wing."

Harry rolled his eyes but decided not to comment. He was honestly getting tired of saying that it wasn't his fault, and it only amused them more when he tried to argue the point.

"I just can't figure out what could have happened to knock all four of us out like that. We weren't attacked or something, were we?" Harry asked, his attention shifting to Madam Pomfrey.

"I didn't find signs of any spell work. No charms, curses, or the like. What's the last thing you four can remember?" she asked.

All four of them opened their mouths to respond, then suddenly stopped. They started again, and again, stopped. After a series of exchanged looks, arched brows, and a silent conversation that passed between them, the girls sat back in their respective beds and gestured for Harry to speak.

"The last thing I can remember," he said, hesitantly, "is going to bed Thursday night."

"Did anything happen that day, Harry?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"Yeah." The smile that spread across Harry's face was, by far, the broadest and most genuine any of them had ever seen. "We completed our bond."

Silence reigned for a handful of seconds before, with ear splitting, delighted squeals, Tracey and Hannah darted forward to tackle their best friends. While Daphne and Susan were occupied, Luna, not to be outdone, threw herself into Harry's arms. She squeezed him quickly then bounced over to Hermione, giving the bushy haired witch identical treatment, congratulating all four of them as loudly as she could to be heard over their friends excited chatter.

It took some minutes before Poppy was able to restore order and all the students returned to their seats. Not that she tried too hard. She was just as thrilled for her four favorite patients as their friends were.

"That might explain what happened," she mused aloud, eyeing the four of them carefully. Drawing her wand she stepped closer to Hermione's bed and then paused throwing a look over her shoulder at Neville and the others. Returning her gaze to the bonded, "May I?" she asked.

Hermione smiled. "Of course. We don't have anything to hide from our friends."

Madam Pomfrey's wand moved through the motion of the spell, now long familiar to the four of them after the many times she'd cast it on them over the last couple of years and then she stepped back to give everyone a clear view of the smiling, bushy haired witch.

The result of the spell was both precisely what they'd expected and simultaneously very different than they could have imagined.

In the past, the aura that would surround them when that spell was used appeared as a gentle seeming cloud of misty light. It appeared to move in small eddies and currents, invisible to the naked eye, swirling around the target in a graceful, soothing way. When Hermione's soul became visible the first thing that anyone noticed, aside from the smoothly blended silver, green, gold, and auburn, was the fact that the aura seemed… agitated. It moved, expanding and shrinking, swirling and roiling like storm clouds. Arcs of energy lifted off of it before falling back like solar flares, reaching out toward her bond mates, as if seeking them out.

"Why is it doing that?" Harry asked, concern clearly coloring his tone.

"I've no way to be certain," Poppy admitted regretfully. "If I had to guess I'd say it might have something to do with how new the final, completed bond is. It may simply take a bit of time to settle back to something normal."

"What's 'normal' for us, though?" Daphne asked with no real answers coming from any of them.

"All right," Poppy said, getting their attention a few moments later. "If you lot could head out, I need to talk to these four, and I'd rather keep that under Healer/patient privilege. If they decide to tell you about it later, that's up to them."

The expressions on their friends faces were rebellious, but none would dare attempt to argue against Madam Pomfrey, and they slowly shuffled their way from the room, promising to return at lunch if they were still there.

Once they were gone Madam Pomfrey turned her focus back to her patients.

"I hate to ask, but I feel I have to… _how_ did you complete your bond?"

At first the four of them were confused before suddenly all three girls blushed a vibrant red. Not three seconds after something seemed to click in Harry's head and his face matched thier's for color as he joined them in abject embarrassment.

"Nothing like _that_ ," Susan blurted out. "We just kissed, but Harry finally admitted how he felt about us."

" _And_ he really accepted that we could all make something work with the four of us, I think that was one of the more important factors," Hermione added.

"Did nothing feel different after it happened?"

They considered that for a moment in silence, another silent conversation seeming to pass between them before they shrugged in perfect unison.

"Nothing that immediately springs to mind," Harry said. "I mean… I definitely felt happier than I think I've ever been in my life… but nothing felt different with our bond…" He trailed off uncertainly with another helpless shrug.

She hummed something wordless to herself as she considered that before pushing forward. "So you went to bed Thursday evening. You have no recollections of any kind from then until you woke up here?"

"Well… not exactly…" Harry trailed off again, looking to the girls for a moment before he continued. "We… well, I guess… I think we've been seeing each other's lives since then."

One brow arched questioningly in his direction. "Can you elaborate on that?"

"I witnessed their entire lives, all three of them, up until we completed the bond the other night," Daphne said with a gesture to her bond mates. "But, with a few exceptions, I didn't _experience_ their lives. It was as if I was just an observer, watching everything at high speed."

Poppy wasn't sure what to think of that, both brows rising toward her hairline as Daphne spoke. "You… you said there were a few exceptions?"

"There were moments," Susan said, "where I _was_ Daphne, or Harry, or Hermione. I didn't just _see_ the memory, I lived it, experienced it as if it had actually happened to me."

"That must be why you were unconscious for so long," Poppy mused quietly. "I can't imagine viewing a combined forty-three-years worth of memories could happen quickly, no matter how sped up they are."

The four of them shrugged again, having no better explanation to offer.

The mediwitch pulled up a chair and sank into it, her motions slow, her manner distracted as she turned over the new information that she'd been presented with in her mind. Completing the bond… while she was personally thrilled for them and for what the bond's acceptance said about the state of their relationship, there would likely be many and far-reaching ramifications as a result of it.

"The agitated appearance of your souls does concern me," she said slowly. "I _do_ believe that it will settle, given a bit of time, but I can't say if anything will happen because of it. Obviously, everything we're learned in the last two years tells us that things will change for the four of you, but exactly what those changes will be we can't really say." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose as if attempting to stave off a headache.

"I'm keeping you here until tomorrow," she decided and then continued speaking over all four of them protesting. "At the very least!" she snapped, glaring at them until they settled back in their beds, slightly sullenly. "I don't want you to be elsewhere in the castle where I can't monitor you in the event _something_ happens.

"If nothing has changed by tomorrow morning I may let you go to your classes under the condition that you return here before lunch and dinner so I can examine you again. I also want you four to pay close attention to what you can feel through your bond. If anything feels wrong, even slightly, I want you to come straight here, even if you are in the middle of a lesson. Am I understood?"

A small chorus of grumbled agreement sounded from the four of them and she gave a curt nod before standing.

"Nutrient potions do a lot, but nothing beats a good meal," she said as she sent all of the chairs back to their proper places with a flick of her wand. "I'll have breakfast served for you and then I'll be back in an hour to examine you again. If you're up for it, I believe you'll have a few other visitors that will likely be arriving soon?"

A round of more enthusiastic agreement greeted that pronouncement, so she gave them another nod and made her way to her office as the four of them began another conversation of half finished sentences and long silences where only they knew what was really being said.

#####

About half an hour before lunch, Amelia, Sirius, and Danyella arrived at the Hospital Wing to see their charges. Of the three of them, Sirius seemed to be more than a little nervous, something Amelia didn't think she'd ever see from the ever confident, if not arrogant, Sirius Black.

As Danyella entered the Wing ahead of them, Amelia put a hand on Sirius' arm and pulled him gently to a stop just outside the doors.

"What's wrong, Sirius?" she asked, blue eyes searching his face for any sign of what was bothering him.

His abrupt, "nothing," did nothing to deter her and she simply gave him a flat stare until he cracked.

"It's just… after we talked in your office on Thursday I wrote a letter to send to Harry, but…"

"But they didn't wake up Friday morning so he hasn't had a chance to read it, most likely," she finished after he trailed off into silence.

Sirius nodded, his dark eyes hooded and filled with pain and uncertainty.

"He doesn't hate you, you know," she said and he let out a strangled sounding laugh.

"You didn't hear him that day, Aims."

"He doesn't," she insisted, ignoring his attempt to argue with her. "He was angry, sure. But he cares about you. If he didn't he wouldn't have gotten quite that upset, he'd have just ignored you as if you were unimportant to him. Just talk to him, apologize for being a git, and accept whatever happens after."

He let out a morose sigh, absently patting the front of his robes with one hand where a slight bulge could be seen around something in his pocket and nodded. Giving him the most encouraging smile she could, she pushed open the doors and led the way into the Hospital Wing, moving away from him and directly to the four occupied beds.

"Well… you certainly look a lot better than you usually do when we come to visit you in here," Amelia said, grinning at Harry as she came to a stop at the foot of his bed.

His glare would have been intimidating to most people but she could see the hint of amusement in his glowing eyes and around the set of his mouth. That and she'd been subjected to far worse glares in her time than anything a fourteen-year-old could muster up.

"I refuse to dignify that comment with a response," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest in an eerie imitation of Hermione as he huffed and leaned back in his bed, causing a startled laugh to bubble up out of her throat.

"How are the four of you feeling?" she asked, pulling a chair over between his and Susan's beds.

"We feel fine," Susan said, smiling broadly at her aunt. "I don't think I've ever felt so good in my life."

"Poppy told us you four completed your bond. I'm happy for you all, and I'd imagine that feeling has to be incredible. I can't picture it myself but just looking at you I can tell how much better things must be."

"Amy? Have my parents been told what's happened?"

Amelia looked across Harry to Hermione and nodded. "Absolutely. I went over myself and spoke to them Friday morning when you guys didn't wake up. I've been keeping them updated every day and I let them know you were awake as soon as I heard. I'd have brought them, but bringing non-magical people into the castle isn't easy and takes quite a bit of preparation work so we weren't able to organize it so soon."

Hermione's smile was understanding, if a little sad. "I understand," she said. "Thank you for keeping them informed."

"Always, Hermione. You're all family, and family is the most important thing there is."

At Amelia's pointed glance, Sirius, standing awkwardly nearby, decided he wasn't going to get much of a better lead in so he stepped forward, clearing his throat to catch Harry's attention.

Instantly all of them turned to look at him, becoming unnaturally still as four flat gazes settled on him and he found himself thrown far off balance by the strange reaction.

"Umm… family… family members also fight," he said, plucking up his courage and pushing forward despite the unnerving scrutiny. "And sometimes we do something really stupid that we should never have done. Harry… I'm sorry I tried to force the issue with what I learned after the World Cup. I… I was just worried, and I wanted to try to help. I didn't mean to barge in like a troll in a tea shop, but I've been told I have all the subtlety of a blasting curse so I can't say I won't bugger things up again."

He reached into his robes and pulled out the package Amelia had noticed when they were still out in the hall, stepping forward again to hold it out to his godson. "I found these at my family home. Your dad and I used to use them and I thought you might like to have this one."

Wordlessly Harry accepted the package, wrapped up in brown paper, and tore it open to reveal a small, simple, round hand mirror. He stared at it, perplexed for a moment before looking up at Sirius to find the man holding an identical mirror in one hand.

Looking into the mirror, Sirius said, "Harry Potter," and a moment later the mirror in Harry's hand grew warm and vibrated a few times, causing him to dart a look down to the mirror then back up to his godfather. "Tap the mirror," Sirius explained and Harry did, tapping it with one finger and the surface of the mirror blurred for a few seconds before it cleared and he could suddenly see Sirius face in the smooth surface.

"These are communication mirrors," Sirius said, his words echoing strangely as he spoke and what he said could also be heard coming from the mirror in Harry's hand. "Your dad and I used to use these to talk to each other when we ended up in separate detentions here at school. If you ever need to talk to me, or even yell at me about something, you can contact me on this, just look into the mirror and say my name."

Harry privately had to admit that he was impressed. The mirrors were ingenious and from what he'd learned in runes and arithmancy they wouldn't have been easy to make, either. He tapped the mirror in his hand again and the image of Sirius vanished to be replaced with his own reflection.

"I get that you wanted to help," he started slowly as the hand holding the mirror dropped to his lap. "But I didn't want to talk about it, and you shouldn't try to force people to tell you things they don't want to say. I felt like I was being interrogated, and I'm sorry too, for what I said, but you really pissed me off."

Sirius winced but nodded his head in full agreement. He knew he'd messed up and only hoped they would be able to move past it.

Silence reigned for several minutes, even Danyella, talking to her daughter, had abandoned that conversation to follow what was happening a few beds over, before Harry looked up from where he'd been staring at the small mirror to meet Sirius' worried gaze.

"Don't do it again, Pads," he said, his face and the tone of his voice showing clearly how serious he was. "You'll probably learn it all one day, if you're patient. But I won't be pushed to share more than I'm willing to. Talk to Amelia if you want, she can tell you everything she knows if she's willing to."

"And don't think this gets you off the hook, Sirius," Hermione spoke up, drawing everyone's attention to her as she glared at the former convict. "I promised you a specific revenge if you pulled what you did and I aim to deliver."

That comment broke up the tension rather nicely and the girls shared a laugh, much to most of their confusion and Sirius' consternation but he gave a rueful smile and nodded, well aware that he'd earned whatever retribution she cooked up, if she was able to pull it off.

#####

The rest of the day was spent talking to their family and their friends while Madam Pomfrey spent time bustling about, frequently interrupting their visits to examine them again and getting the same results each time she did so. Eventually, the day passed and the adults returned home even as their friends returned to their dorms as the four bonded settled in to spend one last evening in the Hospital Wing.

Something tickled at the back of Harry's memory though, something that the girls could feel was bothering him but neither he, nor they, could think of what it might have been. Harry was sure it was a memory, a conversation he'd had in the past perhaps, he just couldn't remember, but whatever it was seemed like it might have been important. He finally fell asleep, long after his girls had drifted off, only to have his night filled with dreams that he wouldn't remember in the morning save the fact that he was left with a strange sense of worry, like something was hanging over his head and he was just waiting for it to fall and crush him.

Monday morning they were woken early by Madam Pomfrey and she examined them for a final time before letting them go with orders to return to her immediately if anything out of the ordinary occurred. They were more than happy to agree to her demands and dressed quickly so they could make good their escape before Poppy decided to change her mind and hold them after all

As they made their way toward the Tower, Hermione was practically giddy, almost bouncing with every step, much to her bond mate's amusement.

"What's got you so excited, 'Mione?" Harry asked, his lips curled up into a gentle smile as he watched her.

Spinning around mid-step, Hermione continued walking backwards, her hands clasped behind her back and a broad grin on her face. "I'm just happy," she explained. "Our bond is finally complete! Can't you feel it? Before didn't feel right. It wasn't complete, _we_ weren't complete, but I couldn't really tell until now. How it feels, how I feel now is incomparable to how I felt last Wednesday."

Harry couldn't help but agree. After waking up Sunday morning the bond he'd felt with his girls _was_ different. Not in a way that he could easily define or articulate, but it felt as if he'd been missing something all his life without even knowing about it and now he'd finally found whatever it was. Complete, as Hermione had said, was the best word he could think of to describe the sensation.

" _And_ ," Susan said, a teasing note in her voice as she observed the bubbly brunette in front of them, "you're excited to discover what new things the complete bond might bring," she teased, causing Hermione to flush with embarrassment.

"Well… it's fascinating, isn't it?" she mumbled hesitantly.

Laughing quietly, Harry grasped her by the shoulders and turned her around without breaking stride, wrapping his right arm around her shoulders even as he felt her arm come around his waist, embarrassment and a small twinge of disgruntlement filtering across their bond from her.

"Don't ever change," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. "You are so curious and inquisitive and it is by far one of your most endearing traits."

The flush in her cheeks darkened even further as a beaming smile split her lips and she responded by kissing his cheek. Further conversation fe aside as they arrived outside the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Barely even a week into the term and you're already in the Hospital Wing for an extended stay," she teased, humor alive in her tone.

"It's not my fault!" Harry blurted out, purely as a knee jerk reaction, and his girls joined the portrait in laughing at his response for a few minutes before Susan was able to choke out the password around her giggles. Together, the three girls were able to drag a sullen Harry Potter into the Common Room and sent him up to his dorm to shower and change after first pausing so that each could give him a lingering kiss. The end result of this action being that a far less surly wizard made his way upstairs to prepare for the day.

Neville was missing from the dorm when he arrived, leaving only the chorus of snores from Seamus, Ron, and Dean to greet him. After gathering together his bath supplies he took ten minutes to shower under a stream of water that was as close to scalding as he could stand before he got out, dried off, and dressed for a day of classes.

He was in a hurry, and though he knew that it wasn't necessary, he couldn't bring himself to really care. He was anxious to get back to the girls, and the longer he was away from them, the worse the feeling became.

Finally dressed, bag slung over one shoulder, he was half-way down the stairs to the Common Room when he suddenly staggered. One hand came up to his head while the other tightly grasped the bannister as the world around him faded from view.

"What the…"

Harry knew that he was still standing on the stairs. He could feel the smooth wood of the bannister under his hand, but he suddenly couldn't _see_ any of it. Instead, he found himself looking at a fogged over floor length mirror in what appeared to be one of the dorm showers. The room seemed strange for some reason, some small detail that appeared off to him, but no matter how he turned his head or moved his eyes his view was unchanged, preventing him from attempting to find the difference he couldn't immediately place.

His view suddenly tilted down and the first thing he noticed was a generous amount of cleavage and two slender arms adjusting a towel that was wrapped firmly around the viewers body.

 _Okay… this isn't a memory, I don't think. I don't have breasts, so if it is a memory, it isn't one of mine. What the hell is going on?_

From his view looking down, he noticed a wide scar crossing diagonally over the left breast to disappear under the edge of the towel just before the viewpoint shifted back up toward the fogged over mirror.

 _Okay… so this is either one of the girls memories… or I'm seeing what one of them is seeing right now. They mentioned that once before, seeing something through my eyes as it happened…_

An arm came into view, wand in hand and flicked the length of wood silently toward the mirror. A moment later the surface of the mirror was clean and clear, showing a perfect reflection of a towel clad Susan Bones. The towel seemed to barely manage to wrap around her chest enough for her to tuck the edge in and it ended high up her thigh, giving an entirely too enticing view of long bare legs.

She had a considering expression on her face as she studied her reflection for a handful of seconds. Her long hair was damp and tied up into a messy bun, stray strands curling around her cheeks, neck, and brushing against her bare shoulders. Harry had just a few seconds to admire her reflection before she suddenly dropped her towel and his brain completely shut down.

Susan Bones, arguably one of the most attractive girls in the entire school was standing there, completely bare, and the shock froze him utterly for a moment as he took in the sight of her. Her skin was lightly tanned and he found himself wondering when exactly it was that she'd done any topless sunbathing as he couldn't see a single tanline.

 _I shouldn't be seeing this,_ he thought, his focus naturally following the wide basilisk scar down the length of her torso. His gaze traveled over full, rounded breasts with their dark pink nipples and further down a toned stomach until he stopped at a small patch of red curls just above her-

 _I shouldn't be seeing this!_

As the words ran through his head, he saw Susan's mouth move, forming the word, 'Harry?' and she spun around, scanning the room behind her.

"Harry? You-"

"-okay, Mate?"

Harry jumped, vision fading away for a moment only for the stairs and Common Room to fade back into existence around him. Turning his head he found the Weasley twins standing on the steps next to him, identical, slightly concerned expressions on their faces.

"Umm…." He could feel his face suddenly burning, shock giving way to mortification and a rather stark sensation of terror. The girl's emotions rolled across the bond toward him, worry, concern, confusion, and a small tinge of lust, the latter he assumed being a reaction to his own feelings of moments before. "I really don't know," he almost squeaked out to the twin's confusion.

"I think… I think I just might be a dead man."

#####

"Madam Pomfrey did _what?"_

Harry winced, resisting the urge to cover his ears at the rather loud, and approaching shrieking, voice of Angelina Johnson. With Oliver graduating the year before, Quidditch Cup firmly won for their Head of House with a commanding lead as his send off, Angelina had been expecting to Captain their team to another victory this year. The loss of the usual school league, however, had been a blow, and she'd been absolutely thrilled by the idea of an Inter School Tournament. The very first night they were back in the castle, after the feast, she'd started hounding the rest of the Gryffindor team to do their absolute damndest to secure a place on the new school team that was going to be formed. Tryouts were set for that upcoming Friday and the news he'd had to bring her was less than welcome.

"Madam Pomfrey grounded me," he repeated, idly thinking that maybe telling her this in the Great Hall during lunch hadn't been his best decision ever. He'd hoped that the public area might stop her from blowing up at him but could now see that that had been a vain hope. "She says I'm not allowed on a broom until further notice."

"Why? _Why_ would she do that? Doesn't she know you're our best bet to win against the other schools? Viktor Krum goes to Durmstrang! You know he'll want to be part of their team, if he isn't already!"

"It's because we foun- wait… Krum? Really? You honestly think _I_ stand a chance against _him_?"

"Harry," Hermione cut in before Angelina could respond. "Maybe it'd be best if you stuck to the pertinent information right now?"

Personally, Harry felt that a potential match against Viktor Krum was _extremely_ pertinent to the discussion, but he wisely chose to shelve that particular line of thought and instead turned his consideration to the events that had happened that morning as he attempted to decide just how much to tell his teammate.

After the twins had snapped him out of whatever trance he'd fallen into on the stairs, he'd made his way down to sit in his chair by the fire to await his upcoming execution. Yes, the girls had all implied, or in Daphne's case, outright stated, that they wanted a far more physical relationship with him in the future, but that didn't give him permission to peep on them! He was reasonably certain that Susan was going to gut him like a fish once she found out what happened.

By the time his girls had made it downstairs, his mounting worry and anxiety had driven them to new heights of concern as well, which only added to his sense of self-loathing, knowing that they were worried about him when he'd been the one to violate Susan's privacy. When they arrived it hadn't taken long before they were insisting that they return to the Hospital Wing where he once again found himself subjected to scans and diagnostics, some of which even _he_ hadn't seen befo-

"Potter!"

He blinked, drawn out of his thoughts to find Angelina suddenly much closer than she had been, both of her hands fisted in the front of his robes and looking as if she were contemplating violence, probably against him.

"Holy-"

"Spit it out already!" she yelled.

"Remember the Headmaster announcing our bond two years ago?"

She leaned back an inch or two, eyeing him warily. "What about it? Wait? He was being serious?"

Harry blinked again. "You didn't believe him?" he blurted out incredulously.

"Well it's kind of fantastic, isn't it?" she shot back defensively. "I mean… Soul Bonds are practically myth, and I don't think anyone has ever heard of a four-way bond before…"

Harry sighed and carefully pried her hands off the front of his robes, leading her over to the Gryffindor table where he gently urged her to sit, well aware that they were gathering an audience.

"Look, it's true," he told her quietly. "Me, Hermione, Daphne, and Susan. We're bonded to each other, and we completed the bond Thursday night, that's why we've been in the Hospital Wing. You heard the stories say that some bonded exhibited extra powers or abilities?"

She nodded, eyes wide as she took in the information he was giving her.

"We don't know what to expect, what's true and what is just stories. We've been looking for information since first year, really, and haven't found much that's really reliable. But this morning I found myself seeing through Susan's eyes. I didn't have any control over it and I couldn't see anything around me while it was happening." He could feel that his cheeks were burning and the look on her face told him she'd noticed so he pushed forward, hoping to get past any attempt to tease him. "Madam Pomfrey doesn't want me on a broom until we can be sure we have it under control. Last thing we need is for me to be in the air and suddenly I can't see where I'm going."

Angelina swore quietly, her brow furrowed in thought.

"All right," she said. "I can understand how that would be bad, but shit, Potter. If you can get this under control by Friday, does that mean you can still try out?"

"According to Madam Pomfrey, yes," he assured her. "We're going to work on it and hopefully figure out how to control it. We're just not sure right now why or how it happened, much less how to stop it."

Angelina spent a few more minutes grilling him for everything she could get before excusing herself, promising as she went to keep quiet about the details she'd learned regarding their bond. Yes, the fact that they were bonded was technically public knowledge, but the details were private, and apparently not everyone believed the bond was real, anyway.

Harry sighed as his girls and their friends moved in to sit around him at the table.

"That went better than I expected it to," Hermione admitted as she filled his plate then her own.

"Angelina might be obsessed with Quidditch, but she's not nearly as bad as Oliver," Harry pointed out. "Did I ever tell you that before one of our games he actually told me to 'catch the snitch or die trying'?"

All three girls' eyes narrowed angrily at that, and Harry was suddenly very glad that his former captain was no longer at the school and was therefore out of their reach. If they could have gotten their hands on him, Harry didn't think Oliver would have survived the encounter.

As lunch continued, Harry found himself acutely aware of Susan's presence on his left. Since the explanation of what he'd seen had come out during their meeting with Madam Pomfrey she had been completely silent and, somehow, she was minimizing her emotions. Not blocking them off as they used to be able to do, but whatever she was feeling was muddled and unclear. He just couldn't get a read on her and it was driving him to distraction.

A glance at his watch showed that they still had twenty minutes before they needed to start making their way toward their next class so he turned to the redhead sitting beside him, hopefully to start them moving past their new situation.

Before he could say anything, however, he felt a hand on his arm and turned to Hermione where she sat on his right side.

"Not yet," she told him in a voice so quiet that it was clearly meant only for his ears. "She's had a bit of a shock. Let me and Daphne talk to her first."

"But-"

"Everything will be fine," she said, cutting off his hissed protest before it could really begin. "But you've got to give her some time. I'm sure that she's at least a little embarrassed."

"I didn't mean to-"

"We know you didn't," she assured him. "I don't think she's upset about that."

 _That_ assurance surprised the hell out of him. He was expecting anger and disgust, and calm reassurance had been as far down the list of possible reactions as it could get, in his opinion.

"I'm not entirely sure what she's actually upset about, but let us talk to her, and we'll all talk it over tonight when Daphne and I have a better understanding of things and can help, okay?"

Harry wasn't at all sure that really _was_ okay, but, thinking that Hermione probably understood the inner workings of the female mind better than he could ever hope to manage, he decided to trust her judgement on the matter.

Slowly he nodded and she gave his arm a reassuring squeeze and turned her attention back to her lunch. For the last few minutes that they had remaining, Harry only pushed his food listlessly around his plate, praying that things would be okay before they had to go to bed that night.

The rest of the day passed quickly and Harry couldn't remember ever being as tense and worried as he felt leaving the Great Hall after dinner.

Right after classes had ended for the day Hermione and Daphne had each looped one of their arms with Susan's and dragged the girl away, ignoring her protests the entire way, and Blaise and Neville had lead him in another direction, realizing that something was going on and each deciding to do their best to help distract their friend.

When the girls met them in the Common Room half an hour later, none of them said a word, but he felt a sense of relief and reassurance flowing from Daphne and Hermione. That did little to stop him from driving himself crazy wondering how their discussion had gone.

"Come on," Hermione said, interrupting his thoughts as she looped her left arm through his right and led him away from the Great Hall toward the stairs leading up into the school.

"We have a discussion we need to have," Daphne added, falling into step on his left side with her own arm hooked through Susan's. "Neville, we'll see you back in the Common Room later?"

"Have fun," he said, giving them a negligent wave with one hand, a small smile on his lips as he watched them walk away.

Two floors later the suspense was killing him, but as Harry opened his mouth-

"Just wait until we get there," Daphne cut him off before he could say anything.

His mouth shut with an audible click and he frowned slightly, but remained silent for the rest of the walk until they arrived on the seventh floor and Hermione began pacing back and forth, thinking carefully about what it was she wanted until a door appeared in the blank stretch of wall. Pulling it open she gestured for the other three to precede her into the room and when Harry entered behind Daphne and Susan he found a comfortably appointed sitting room with a large couch, perfect for the four of them, resting in front of a fireplace with a merrily crackling blaze already burning within it.

Hermione took hold of one of Harry's hands just as Daphne grabbed onto Susan and they dragged the two of them over to the sofa, sitting them down in the middle before they took a seat on either side, bracketing the two teens.

"Now," Hermione started after they were all settled from her spot on Harry's right side. "We talked to Susan earlier, Harry, like I said we would, and Daphne and I agree there's a miscommunication happening here."

"Or rather, a lack of communication," Daphne corrected, glaring slightly at the two of them. "For how much Susan has always advocated opening up and talking, I confess I'm a little disappointed in her. But that's why we're here, now. To clear this up so that we can all move forward without worry. At least on this particular issue."

"So, this is the part where you two talk this out," Hermione continued. "Daphne and I are just here for moral support."

Harry wasn't entirely certain what to think of that, but the two girls didn't _feel_ angry as far as he could tell. Again, they seemed to be pushing sensations of calm reassurance. He felt as if everything really was going to be okay and he took a deep breath and turned slightly so he was facing Susan more directly.

For herself, Susan wasn't so sure everything really _would_ be okay. For the first time, she wasn't reassured by talking to Hermione and Daphne. Part of her wanted to be angry with Harry, since his actions caused part of this, but she'd already stated once before that he was guiltless, to a degree. It was an irrational, but visceral reaction that she couldn't beat back.

Only Harry could possibly resolve the conflict that she felt, though she was terrified to voice it. What if the girls were wrong? What if his reaction had been exactly what she thought it was? If he confirmed what was bothering her… would that be worse than not knowing? Pretending that everything was fine?

Slowly, she gathered the courage to speak when Harry beat her to the punch.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out, causing her to pause, blinking in confusion, her mouth still open in preparation to speak.

"What for?" she asked, everything she'd been about to say falling away in the face of his unexpected apology.

His expression was incredulous. "'What for?'" he repeated, eyes wide. "I invaded your privacy! I didn't mean to, but it happened and I saw something I shouldn't have seen." He started to stand, intent on pacing when Hermione grabbed his arm and yanked him back into his seat.

He shot her a mildly irritated look over his shoulder, to which she simply returned a small, enigmatic smile, before he looked back at Susan.

"I shouldn't have seen you like that, not without you knowing about it, or without your permission."

When he fell silent, Susan could only shake her head, exasperated by his reasoning.

"I'm not going to say, 'I told you so,'" Hermione said from behind Harry and he could honestly hear the grin that must have been on her face from her tone, "but…"

"Hermione, moral support doesn't need to talk," Daphne lightly admonished her.

Susan ignored both of them, keeping her focus on Harry. "I'm not mad at you," she said. "Like you said, it wasn't intentional, wasn't something you meant to do." A deep flush suddenly rose in her cheeks. "I'm not honestly against you seeing me… that way… though I'll admit the circumstances could have been better…."

Confused was probably the best word to describe how Harry felt right at that moment. The worry, anxiousness, and nervous fear that he'd barely been able to detect from her had completely vanished as she tried to make _him_ feel better about the situation.

 _How in the hell does that make any sense?_ he wondered, shaking his head in bemusement.

"Wait… so if you're not mad at me… then what are you upset about?"

Just like that, Susan's emotional state flipped on its head, all the unpleasant feelings she'd forgotten in her effort to reassure him came rushing back, stronger than ever.

"Susan, just tell him. We promise you, you misunderstood how he felt."

Harry almost expected Hermione to tease Daphne back about moral support remaining silent but instead she simply kept her own silence, tacitly agreeing with the other witch.

For nearly a minute, Susan tried several times to speak, her mouth opening, only for no sound to come out. She fidgeted in her seat, her right hand absently rubbing a line on the upper left side of her chest with just the tips of her fingers.

Harry's eyes narrowed, bright green irises gleaming as he unconsciously followed the path of her fingers. Back and forth from just outside her left collarbone they moved diagonally down across her upper chest. Her fingers stopped just before the impressive swell of her breasts and moved back up by her collarbone again.

Strangely, he was suddenly reminded of a conversation he'd had with Amelia, not long after the girls had told him that they shared his scars. He'd noticed that, even though he now knew about them, they still hid the scars with glamours, even at the Boneyard when there was no one else to see them. To say it had confused him would be an understatement, particularly with how they'd been after him to not hide his scars and to be more open at the time.

' _Scars for men and women are different,'_ she'd said, her blue eyes holding his gaze with a somber sincerity that had startled him at the time. _'For men, scars are typically viewed somewhat positively, at least battle scars most often are. They're badges of honor, or they can show a man's strength as a visible sign of the various challenges he's faced in his life… That's a simple way to put it, but close enough. For women, though…'_ He remember her letting out a long sigh, her fingers idly fiddling with her tea cup where it sat empty in front of her on the kitchen table.

' _For women, scars are typically thought of as being disfiguring. Something to detract from her beauty. They're a blow to a young woman's self esteem, and especially how she might view herself. A big scar, that like slash across your chest… something like that is somewhat devastating for a young woman to have to bear.'_

It wasn't something he'd given a lot of thought to after the fact, aside from Amelia reminding him that he wasn't technically to blame. Now though… now he thought he just might understand what she meant a little better. "Is all this about the scars?" he asked, noting carefully how Susan flinched at the question.

"You saw me," she mumbled a moment later, her head bowed so she was staring at the carpet in front of the couch. "You saw me and, yeah, at first you were… you felt excited…" She flushed brightly but pushed on without pause, "but then you felt disgusted-"

"Wait… you think I found _you_ disgusting?" he blurted out, completely flabbergasted when her answer was a silent nod of her head. He gaped at her, sputtering wordlessly for several moments, unable to put into words how completely ridiculous that thought was. Scars or not, all three of the girls in his life were some of the most beautiful he'd ever seen, and they'd only grown more and more into their looks as the years had progressed. He'd seen it when they were all eleven, that they were gorgeous, and the passage of time had only proven his initial thoughts on that matter.

"I can't even begin to explain how completely incorrect that is," he finally managed to say. "Do you… do you find _me_ disgusting, since I have all the same scars?" he asked and her head snapped up, wide eyes meeting his.

"No!" She shook her head, almost violently. "No, Harry, not at all. But… it's different for girls. Guys are almost expected to have a few scars but…"

"Amelia explained that to me one day during the summer before third year," he admitted. "I didn't really think too much about it at the time since… well the idea that I'd ever be in a position to really look at any of you was a distant thought in my head." He sighed and leaned back on the couch. "I didn't have the slightest clue where we were heading… I honestly still don't, really, except I know now how I feel for all three of you, and how you feel for me, and some scars… as much as I hate that I have them, and that you three ended up having to deal with them too… some scars would never be enough for me to think you anything other than beautiful."

As he spoke he felt a growing sense of hope coming from the redhead beside him. Hope, still tempered by doubt, but hope. Of course, words alone wouldn't be enough to completely dispel her worries, and he couldn't begin to fathom how deeply ingrained those worries might be. None of the girls had ever struck him as particularly vain, but he was able to understand how the idea of feeling desired and desirable could be important.

 _Actions speak louder than words,_ he thought. As those words echoed in his head, his body seemed to move on its own. Leaning toward her, his scarred right hand came up, curled fingers gently pressing beneath her chin to tilt her head up so he could press his lips to hers. At first she was tense, surprised by the suddenness of his actions, but in moments her body relaxed and she was returning his kiss with an equal and growing fervor.

He could tell her how beautiful he found her until he was blue in the face, he knew. His best option was to show her if he really wanted her to believe him. His arms wrapped around her waist and she let out a startled squeak when he suddenly turned, pulling her up and into his lap, never removing his lips from hers, deepening the kiss with every second.

He honestly didn't know how long they spent lost in each other, but he didn't think it had been an exceptionally long time when he slowly pulled away from her, both of them panting slightly, lips swollen, eyes dark with a growing passion that seemed to pour out from somewhere deep inside them. A quick glance showed that Hermione had moved while they'd been busy with each other, now sitting with Daphne, her arms wrapped around the smaller girl as both of them looked on fondly at the two of them.

Harry carefully cleared his throat. "Do you two feel the same way?" he asked, his voice rough. "Are you worried that I'll be turned off by your scars? Scars that are all my fault, by the-"

"They're not your fault, Potter," Daphne interrupted, her brow furrowing as she scowled at him. "You didn't know, and there's nothing you could have done."

Harry sighed, not agreeing, but not willing to continue arguing that particular point when there was a more immediate concern that needed to be addressed.

"Maybe a little bit," Hermione cut in, answering his question. With both of her arms wrapped around Daphne, Hermione's hands started twisting and twining together over the blond's middle until Daphne placed a calming hand over them, giving a reassuring squeeze as she did so.

"I think we all have a few doubts and insecurities, Harry. We don't doubt for a minute that you love us, but…" She fell silent as she searched her prodigious vocabulary for the words she needed.

"We're not as sure of how much you're actually attracted to us," Daphne bluntly stated.

"Daphne!"

"What? You weren't going to get to the point any time soon."

"I've told you repeatedly how beautiful I think all three of you are," he pointed out, trying to make sense of the strange direction the conversation had wandered.

"But you're also the least demonstrative out of all of us," Daphne returned. "You've been getting much better, but hell, even Hermione has been more 'hands on' than you've been," she finished while the brunette in question flushed a brilliant red and attempted to hide her face against Daphne's back.

"You weren't complaining last week when I had a handful of your-"

"No complaints, love," Daphne said, cutting off Hermione's embarrassed muttering with a smug smirk firmly in place on her lips. "Like I said before, we're happy to go at your pace, and you've been making a real effort, which Susan and I both appreciate." She turned her attention back to Harry. "But things are slightly different with you. Hermione is still getting used to the idea of intimacy with another woman and she's done more to show Susan and me, physically, that she finds us attractive and wants us. Why don't you?"

"But I do," he protested. "I've been initiating kissing you and such more often. I've made a point to show you how I feel as much as I can."

"Yes, you've gotten much better at that," Hermione admitted. "You're quite the kisser. But… honestly, Harry, that's all you do."

Harry was back to being confused and expressed that in the clearest way he could. "Huh?"

All three girls sighed nearly in unison, though there were fond, if slightly exasperated, smiles curling up the corners of their mouths. Even Susan from where she was still sitting in his lap, one arm wrapped around his shoulders as the other rested flat on his chest.

"Harry," Susan said, drawing his attention to her. "When you were just kissing me… where were your hands?"

He frowned. "On your waist, or your back."

"Why?"

"Huh?" he said again, tilting his head slightly to one side.

"Why did you keep your hands to those spots? Why didn't you touch me more?"

Harry took some comfort in the fact that, even as her voice was level and calm, her cheeks were bright red, probably matching his own complexion at that particular moment in time.

"I don't want to do something wrong," he finally said after a short time. "I didn't want to push any of you, especially since, really until Friday, I couldn't honestly say what we were doing. Were we dating, technically? Were we in an actual relationship or just fooling around? I meant to talk about that with all of you after the World Cup but… well, things were just weird, and then we got side tracked talking about the ball, and completing our bond and…" He trailed off with an awkward shrug of his shoulders as Daphne and Hermione nodded knowingly.

"We appreciate you being a gentleman," Hermione said.

"We really do, me especially since I'm the least certain about intimacy with you," Daphne added. "I know I want to, eventually, just building up to it is… a little scary."

"So you've been playing things safe with us since you didn't want to do anything that might upset us?" Susan asked, just to clarify and he nodded.

"Harry… you trust us, right?"

"Of course I do, Hermione. There's no one in the world I trust more than the three of you."

"Do you think… do you think you could try to be a little more… daring? Try to explore a little more, and trust that, if you do something we don't want you to do, that we'll tell you, and we'll do our level best not to get upset with you? As long as you listen to us if we tell you no, there's no way you would upset us."

"Why is this so important?"

"We're fourteen, Harry! Hermione is nearly fifteen! Yes, we're young, but we're not stupid, and we're more mature than most people our age. When we were eleven the idea of the four of us being in a relationship was just an idea. It was something abstract. Since last February we've been in something of a relationship, not very well defined, as you pointed out, but even though we might not be ready to have sex we're damn well ready to explore a little and learn a bit more about ourselves and about each other."

Harry blinked several times at Daphne's, rather forceful, outburst as Susan started giggling slightly and Hermione fixed the back of the blond's head with a stern glare.

"I might not have put it so bluntly," Hermione said, "but she's not wrong. You can't honestly tell me that you haven't thought about doing more than just kissing us, can you, Harry?"

Hesitantly, he shook his head. "No… I-I have had a few thoughts," he admitted.

"Well, act on a few of them, would you? We'll warn you if you come close to crossing any lines. We've been waiting for you to move things along with us which, retrospectively, was a bad idea. Obviously this is a conversation we should have had a long time ago." Hermione's brow was furrowed into a deep frown, one hand absently stroking Daphne's forearm as she fell into her thoughts. "We don't have to go any faster than any of us are individually comfortable with, but we won't really know what we're comfortable with until we start moving forward, right?"

 _This conversation has gotten surreal_ , Harry thought as he nodded. _But they're not wrong. They maybe could have given me some hints they wanted more, but I didn't really try anything either._

The conversation had strayed from the original point, he felt, so, with his mind spinning as he tried to consider this new information as well as trying to figure out how he could show Susan how little her scars mattered to him he turned his focus back to her again.

"Backing up, just a bit," he said, "you said I felt disgusted when I saw you."

"You did, Harry. It was clear as day."

"Well, you're not wrong, I _did_ feel disgusted. But I was disgusted with myself."

She sat up a bit straighter on his lap, leaning away slightly so she could look at him more easily.

"I was disgusted that I was invading your privacy, that I was seeing you in a moment that I shouldn't have been seeing."

"And I'm not upset that you saw me."

"But I didn't know that at the time. If… if it happens again, I can guarantee you I won't be feeling any form of disgust. Not now that I know you're okay with it."

Her expression showed she didn't entirely believe him, but she clearly wanted to based on what he felt from their bond.

 _Maybe… maybe I can convince her… and take what they were just saying into account at the same time?_ he thought, a nervous thrill shooting through him as several different ideas rose to the forefront of his mind.

"Do you trust me?" he suddenly asked, his eyes never moving from the girl on his lap and she arched a slim brow at the question.

"Of course," she answered without any hesitation.

"Then… can I show you… can I show you that I'm not at all disgusted by you, or your scars?"

Susan nodded slowly. "Of course," she said again, her voice soft as her pulse quickened slightly in anticipation. "If you'll stop blaming yourself for our scars."

He let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm trying. I really am, but you wouldn't have them if it wasn't for me."

Susan leaned in and kissed him, gently pressing her lips to his for several moments before she pulled away. "And we wouldn't be here, either, if it wasn't for you and our connection to you. As long as the three of you love me, any doubts I have, we can deal with. Now… what did you want to show me?"

Harry shook his head, pushing away any thought of arguing his point in order to focus on reassuring the girl in his arms, and hopefully the other two girls in their strange relationship, that there was no concern their scars would deter him from loving them.

Susan let out another surprised squeak when he suddenly pulled her into a searing kiss. While he did so he pushed everything he felt for them through the bond, opening himself up more than he ever had. Love, care, compassion, even lust. Every positive emotion he held for his girls was gathered together and sent out to them as their lips moved together, tongues battling against each other.

When he pulled back Susan was flushed and panting, he was sure that he was as well and a quick glance showed a wide eyed pair of girls sitting beside them, watching them both intently. He turned his attention back to Susan and moved his hands from where they'd been pressed against her back. Shaking slightly, his fingers found the knot in her Gryffindor tie and he slowly untied it, leaving it draped around her neck and hanging down her front before moving to the top button of her uniform blouse.

He stopped when he felt a collective shock coming from all three girls, the feeling nearly overwhelming him before it receded and Susan simply nodded, giving her silent permission for him to continue. Slowly, one button at a time, he unbuttoned her blouse, pulling the bottom edge from where it was tucked into her skirt until it hung open on her body. The half inch wide gap gave an enticing glimpse of the front of her yellow bra that had his heart racing and his mouth feeling suddenly dry.

Carefully, he pulled her blouse open, pushing it to the side to reveal that toned stomach he'd seen earlier that morning and the now bra covered breasts that were burned into his memory.

Susan was shaking, small tremors running through her body that she couldn't stop no matter how she tried. She had never felt more exposed before. Her swimsuits showed more skin, but somehow she felt naked as his glowing green eyes swept over her body. A soft gasp escaped her when heated, rough hands gently touched her stomach, her muscles tightening instinctively as his fingers began to trace every exposed scar.

"I hate that you have these," he said, his fingers trailing slowly up and down her sides, leaving trails of heat behind on her skin. "Not because they make you any less gorgeous, but because they happened to _me_ , and bottom line, you shouldn't have to deal with them."

She immediately went to protest and he silenced her by once again covering her mouth with his. A stronger tremor ran through her as his hands slid up her back, beneath her shirt. Goosebumps broke out over her entire body as calloused, hot hands pulled her closer to him. There was a possessive feeling in the grip he had on her body that sent a thrill through her unlike anything she'd ever imagined.

"Oh, Merlin," she gasped when he suddenly released her mouth, her head tilting back as she drew in several deep, gasping breaths. This action left her throat exposed and he leapt on the opportunity to kiss his way down the slender column of her neck until he reached her shoulder.

His mind swam, senses completely awash with her. The scent and the taste of her skin, the warmth of her body and the way she writhed in his arms, back arching, pressing herself against him, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers buried in his messy hair.

Pleasure, desire, and pure lust flooded across their bond, threatening to wash away what he intended on a wave of pure emotion driven by desire and rampant hormones.

"I hate that you have them," he growled in a rough, breathless voice as he forced himself to stay on task, kissing his way across her left shoulder toward her collarbone. He looked up at her, waiting until she tilted her head down to meet his eyes with a heavy lidded gaze.

"I hate it," he repeated, pausing to press another kiss to her shoulder, "but I love you, and your body, how you look, is only a pleasant accident. No amount of scars could ever make you anything other than completely beautiful to me."

With that, he pressed an open mouthed kissed directly to the top of the long scar that crossed her chest, his tongue darting out to taste her skin. Heat seared her body as her eyes and mouth opened wide and a low groan escaped her, echoing up from somewhere deep in her throat.

Susan whined and moaned, her hands clutching painfully at his hair as he slowly kissed his way down her chest and over her breast, carefully covering every inch of exposed scar tissue until he reached the edge of her bra. Progress halted, he worked his way back up, just as slowly, until he was able to claim her mouth again. By the time they pulled apart, neither of them could seem to catch their breath, and Susan leaned down, resting her head against his shoulder, her eyes tightly closed

"We- we need to calm down," she panted, the scent of him filling her nose with every desperate, gasping breath she took in.

Harry could only nod, shifting her on his lap so that she was no longer sitting directly on the now throbbing hard-on that he prayed she hadn't noticed while he'd had her distracted.

"That… was insanely hot."

"Daphne!"

Harry and Susan jumped, both of them flushing a brilliant red as they suddenly realized they'd completely forgotten about their audience.

"What?" Daphne said, somewhat defensively. "You can't honestly tell me that wasn't hot."

"That was amazing, and loving, and beautiful," Hermione sniffed, her attempted haughty air lost due to the flush coloring her own cheeks.

Daphne looked back over her shoulder at the brunette behind her with a sultry smirk twisting her lips. "I can _feel_ how turned on you are, Hermione," she reminded her, causing the other girl's flush to darken to new levels.

"Th-that's not the point," she muttered. "You're making what they just shared sound cheap or tawdry."

"You know that's not what I meant."

Hermione sighed. "I know," she muttered, fidgeting nervously for a moment. "Though… you're not wrong… that was very, _very_ sexy."

Harry was sure that he couldn't possibly blush any more than he already was and decided to focus on the girl in his lap as a means of distraction.

"Do you believe me?" he asked softly, but loud enough to be sure that Hermione and Daphne would be able to hear.

Susan hummed quietly, gently running the fingers of one hand through his hair for a moment. "If I said 'no', would you try to convince me again?"

Daphne burst out laughing as Harry frowned and started pinching Susan's sides, setting the buxom redhead to squirming in his lap. "Okay," she squealed, "okay, I believe you. I believe you!"

He grinned, triumphantly, and left his hands rest on her waist, thumbs gently stroking her skin as she collected herself.

"Merlin, I believe you," she murmured, kissing him again. When she pulled away she pressed her forehead against his, staring into his glowing eyes. 'Thank you," she whispered.

"Anytime."

"Now they're just being disgustingly sweet."

"Daphne!"

"Well they are!" Daphne cried, defending herself.

"Merlin's pants, what am I going to do with you?" Hermione sighed, exasperated.

Daphne looked back at her again, grinning mischievously. "I can think of a few things you could do with me," she practically purred, "or, more to the point, _to_ me."

"Daphne!"

Daphne's only response was a decidedly wicked sounding laugh as Hermione sputtered, sending both Harry and Susan off into fits of laughter as well. Hermione's embarrassed protests were silenced when the blond turned in her arms and captured her mouth with her own. In seconds the brunette's indignation was forgotten as the two soon lost themselves in an ever deepening kiss.

By the time he went to bed that night, Harry had shown Hermione just how little her scars mattered to him, just as he'd done for Susan, while the redhead did the same _to_ Daphne. That was as far as they went, though all three girls agreed that it was phenomenal progress and they were quite pleased, if a little frustrated and unfulfilled.

Harry realized, just before falling asleep, that they were going to have problems, at times, with their unusual relationship, but he was finally certain that they would be able to overcome anything, either from their bond or something outside of it, as long as the four of them were together.


	51. Letters and Mirror Advice

**Author's Notes: Here again gang, and I feel pretty stupid at the moment. I reached the point where this chapter ends a couple weeks ago at least and I've been trying to continue the scene since. I just didn't like what I ended up writing no matter how I tried to redo it. Finally, I realized it's actually not a bad spot to end the chapter, just as it was. Little bit of a cliff hanger but not a terrible one, not like during the World Cup two chapter arc. I'll admit, I was a little cruel and evil with that cliff hanger.**

 **So, I have decided to simply upload the chapter as is and then have just a tiny bit of a time skip with the next chapter to get to where I need things to be. Also, while it's been a little while, nowhere near as long as it was before my last update. Life really decided to kick my ass recently and it's been difficult getting the motivation to write but I'm still plugging away, still working so please don't worry and everyone's patience with me is so very much appreciated. On with the show!**

 **Disclaimer: I still don't own anything of value, especially not the Harry Potter franchise or any of its characters.**

 **Here be chapter 50 of Soul Scars.**

Soul Scars Part Four:

Allegria.

by,

Rtnwriter

Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Professor of Transfiguration, found herself walking the corridors of Hogwarts in the early morning hours on Saturday with a very specific destination in mind. It had been some time since she had been shown this particular room, one many thought of with the same degree of skepticism as the fabled Chamber of Secrets. Another Hogwarts mystery solved by, arguably, one of her favorite, and most troublesome, students.

Not troublesome in the way that most educators would likely use the term, as he wasn't a poor student, nor did he act out in class or start fights with other students in the school, far from it. In fact, it could easily be argued that he had saved the lives of everyone in the school at least once, possibly twice, making him even more well known for his heroics, and it was those very heroics that made him so troublesome.

"Heading to check on our young warriors?"

Minerva turned her head, automatically looking down as she recognized the slightly squeaky voice of her friend and colleague, who had apparently just reached her as she passed an intersecting hall.

"Warriors, Filius? Really?"

The diminutive professor shrugged. "What else would you call them? Mister Potter is considered a Blooded Warrior amongst the Nation after his battle against the basilisk. His young ladies, and their friends, did help fight in a battle against hundreds of inferi. They have faced You-Know-Who multiple times, and they train as if they are preparing for war. What are they, if not warriors?"

Minerva couldn't really think of a response to that, so she didn't try and simply turned and continued walking with Professor Flitwick falling into well practiced step beside her, her much longer stride causing him to have to walk much faster in order to keep pace. Once, years ago, she had attempted to shorten her stride to make things easier on her friend, he had been most put out with her. She didn't try anymore, simply letting the smaller professor keep up as he would.

"You haven't been by to check on their progress recently, have you?" he asked and she pursed her lips.

"I have been keeping myself informed on all of their grades. My five have continued to take the top five spots in their year for the last two years.

"That doesn't actually give a fair accounting of their abilities, and you know it," Filius pointed out. "Mister Potter has been the driving force pushing them all forward, and I personally doubt that he is even aware at what level they are all at in their practical spell casting. He just learns new spells, teaches them to his friends, and repeats. It's astonishing to watch their practice duels."

Minerva hummed under her breath, but said nothing. It was entirely her fault that the closer than usual relationship she had been building with them was ruined. She hadn't fought to keep Harry out of the Dursleys beyond a few words of protest. She hadn't done anything to check on the lad over the years, either. When he'd found out… they still hadn't returned for one of their Saturday teas.

The door to the Room of Requirement came into view and the two professors entered quietly, only to step into the middle of a scene of complete chaos. The Room had become a battle ground, a large arena with rubble, walls, and barricades strewn randomly about. Their students were scattered about the space as a running battle appeared to be taking place. Spells flew through the air, fast and thick, and Minerva found herself shocked as she took in the nature of some of those spells.

Cutters, bone breakers, blasting curses, animated transfigurations… she flinched as the Head of House Longbottom ducked what she recognized as a blood boiling curse.

"Sweet Circe," she blurted out, unable to stop herself as a series of blasting curses struck throughout the room, the explosions tearing through the air so loudly as to almost feel like a solid presence pressing against her eardrums. Directly in front of the two professors, in the very center of the room, a figure shimmered into view as a disillusionment charm failed, revealing a panting, sweating, bruised, and shirtless Lord Potter.

His empty left hand was raised in the direction of where the last blasting curse had struck and in his right hand he held a length of wood shaped like a sword, his knuckles white due to his grip on the mock weapon.

Behind him, another shimmer hung in the air for a moment before Blaise Zabini came into view, a wooden sword in his own left hand and his wand held in his right. The wand snapped up, a chain of spells rattling off and Potter cursed, throwing himself into a roll to avoid the attack.

"They're going to kill each other!" Minerva gasped out, her wand already in hand as she started to stride forward, intent on ending the conflict.

"They're fine, Minerva," Filius told her, shocking the woman into silence. "Just watch."

"How can you say that?" she barked out, watching an orange colored curse fly from Harry's empty left hand toward Blaise, who sidestepped the attack. "That was an entrail expelling curse!"

To her continued befuddlement Filius only laughed at her declaration. "Yes, Lord Potter has gotten rather good at that one."

"That is dark magic!"

"'Know thy enemy', Minerva," Filius quoted. "How can someone be expected to counter something they've never seen before? They've all been learning dark magic in order to be able to recognize and counter it if they ever have it used against them."

"And what if one of those curses lands? Mister Zabini would be dead right now, there's no counter for the entrail expelling curse once it hits."

"The Room has taken care of that."

Minerva blinked several times in confusion and opened her mouth to question her colleague.

"Trust me, just watch. Do you honestly think I wouldn't make sure their safety was taken into account?" Filius asked in a slightly hurt tone of voice.

"Never. But you weren't here when all this started."

He bobbed his head in a nod. "True. But I helped them find the Room's capabilities, so I know that everything is fine. Just watch."

His firm resolve and confidence caught her attention more than the actual words chosen. After years of working together she knew that Filius would never intentionally endanger a student. If he was so certain that there was no danger… well, she would just have to give him the benefit of the doubt, as much as what she was watching absolutely terrified her.

A cry echoed from somewhere else in the room, the voice sounding much like Lord Longbottom.

"Sounds like Neville is out," Blaise commented as he and Harry circled each other in the center of the battlefield.

"Sounds like it."

"You know they're just going to team up against us, again," Blaise pointed out and Harry shrugged.

"Most likely."

"They always beat us, Harry," the Slytherin pointed out. "Why don't we team up ourselves, try to even things up a bit against those girls of yours?"

"That's true, they have beaten us nearly every time when the three of them have managed to work together. So you want us to set aside our fight and work together to beat the big bad girls?" Harry asked, a smirk present on his lips.

"Exactly. Because the longer we spend fighting here, the longer we give them to get into position to attack whoever it is that wins our little bout. If we call a truce now we cut that time to prepare out from under them."

Harry considered that for a moment before he shrugged, his smirk turning into a full blown grin. "Or, to save time, you could just surrender."

Blaise snorted out a laugh and raised his sword in a brief salute that Harry barely returned before he was forced to dodge a brace of stunners. While the two boys fought, Minerva could see the three girls slowly moving closer to the battle, taking up positions as close as they could get while still staying outside the range of the battle.

"Gah, you know better than that, Potter!"

Minerva had her attention drawn back to the battle as her colleague started berating their student. Potter was retreating, quickly backing away from a series of attacks from the larger Slytherin student, blocking or dodging spells as best he could while using the sword in his right hand to deflect swipes and jabs that Blaise made at him with his own sword.

 _He's on the back foot, Mister Zabini has the clear advantage in this fight… so why doesn't he look more concerned?_ she thought, studying Harry's face carefully as the retreat continued. There was a determined set to his expression, a calculating look in his eye that didn't fit the image of a person retreating and off balance.

 _He's planning something,_ she thought.

As she watched the fight progress, she started to notice something that seemed… off to her. The number of spells that flew from Harry's hand didn't seem to match up to the physical motio- _There!_ Harry's left hand came up and flicked out, once, twice… three times in his opponent's direction, but only two brightly glowing hexes were deflected by the Slytherin.

 _He's setting a trap!_

The thought bloomed into existence, fully formed within her mind a mere second before the trap was sprung.

Harry's intense look of concentration morphed into a sudden triumphant grin as he waved his hand, shouting a string of Latin at the top of his lungs. A series of bright flashes of light went off all around them and when it cleared the battlefield had _changed_.

Blaise blinked several times, his mouth dropping open in shock as he took in the dozens upon dozens of Luna Lovegoods that suddenly surrounded him. Some as tall as two feet, others no more than three inches high as Minerva realized that Harry had transfigured all of the accumulated rubble caused by their battle into miniature versions of the eccentric Ravenclaw.

All sides of the battle froze for the briefest of moments before the Lunas suddenly attacked, rushing forward in a swarm as Blaise let out a surprised yelp, wand and sword both wavering back and forth in a brief moment of indecision as he couldn't decide if he should attack the constructs or not. That moment was all it took as they suddenly swamped him, the entire small army reaching the boy only to leap at him, grabbing onto him wherever they could until he was dragged to the ground beneath their combined weight.

Harry straightened and waved his hand again and the army of Lunas blurred and melted, forming together into a new structure. In a matter of seconds Blaise Zabini found himself on his hands and knees, metal shackles at his wrists and ankles with short chains that were in turn connected to the floor, effectively trapping him in place. A quick disarming charm had both wand and sword ripped from the boy's hands, leaving him completely helpless.

Blaise struggled for a moment, pulling ineffectually at his bonds before giving up, turning his attention to a panting, yet grinning, Harry Potter.

"Really, Potter?" he asked, disbelief coloring his tone. "Do your girls know that you appear to have a thing for bondage? Might be something you want to inform them of before they find themselves at your tender mercies."

Beside her, Filius cracked up, cackling quietly as Harry gaped at his friend for a moment before flushing brightly. Before he could say anything, another voice floated over to them from behind a nearly demolished wall.

"Who says that _we'd_ be the ones tied up and at _his_ mercy?" Susan asked, stepping around the wall with her wand leveled in Harry's direction.

"That _is_ rather presumptuous of you, Blaise," Hermione added as she appeared from behind another piece of rubble off to the left and across from Susan as Daphne stood up and climbed out of a small warded area she'd created near the floor, her back to the two Professors.

When she spoke her voice was a sultry purr that had a flush blooming in Hermione's cheeks. "Though the idea does offer all sorts of possibilities, doesn't it girls?" she asked, stepping closer to the two boys that were now caught in the crossfire between their three wands.

"Ready to surrender, love?" Daphne asked. "We promise… we'll be gentle."

With his face as red as she'd ever seen him, Minerva watched as Harry chose _not_ to surrender. Instead, both hands came up and he dove to the side, calling out as he fell, "Morning Professor McGonagall!"

The moment he'd moved Hermione had already started the motions to a spell, the incantation on her lips and she spun, along with the other girls, as what he'd said registered. The spell was already cast, however, and Minerva couldn't reach her wand fast enough to even attempt to cast a shield as a cutting curse hissed through the air directly for Daphne's unprotected back.

#####

"I can't believe you cut my shirt," Daphne said some time later as the six students found themselves sitting in Professor McGonagall's office.

"I already said I'm sorry," Hermione told her, her face twisted into a worried expression. "At least it didn't hurt you at all, and we can repair or replace the shirt easily enough."

"It was my fault. I knew the professors were there but I shouldn't have tried to distract you like that," Harry muttered.

"Stop it, Harry. You know she was never in any real danger. A torn shirt is a small price to pay for us to learn to be more aware of our surroundings," Susan cut in.

"Would one of you like to explain what I saw in there?" Professor McGonagall cut in after Susan finished speaking. "Aside from some fairly inappropriate innuendo, you were all casting some very dangerous magic. Filius assures me that none of you were in any danger, but I would very much like to know how that was possible."

She had her stern expression and clipped tones out in full force, wanting little more than a solid explanation for what she'd seen. If that was how they were practicing dueling… well, she honestly wasn't certain her heart could take the strain.

"It's the Room, Professor," Harry told her, leaning forward in his seat in front of her desk. "I asked for a Dueling Arena for a six way free-for-all battle. Since I requested the Room, I also control what goes on inside the Room. When I requested it I wanted us to be able to practice the more dangerous spells we know but without real risk of injury. We're not sure _how_ it does it, but the Room made it so that, even if one of us _was_ hit with a deadly curse, the worst we'd suffer would be a really nasty bruise.

"None of us actually _want_ to get hurt, so it lets us realistically practice but without the actual danger involved with some of the magic that we were using."

 _Remarkable,_ Minerva thought, more impressed with the Room of Requirement than she'd ever been as she took in her student's explanation. "And that is how Miss Greengrass wasn't injured by Miss Granger's cutter?"

"Eh… no. No that's a different story all together," Susan admitted.

Hermione spoke up at that point and Minerva bit back an exasperated sigh as she shifted her attention to yet another new speaker.

"We discovered it on Tuesday morning, actually. Madam Pomfrey believes that since we completed our bond our magical signatures now match up. The girls and I literally can't affect each other with our magic anymore, it'd be as if we cast the spell at ourselves. My cutter _couldn't_ hurt Daphne, but it still cut her shirt."

"Professor Lupin demonstrated last year in class how a person's own magic can't affect them. As far as we can tell that's what's happened with us."

The professor considered that for a moment before a question occurred to her. "You said that only you girls can't affect each other?"

All four of the bonded teen's faces fell slightly at that as Blaise and Neville both cast sympathetic looks in their direction.

"For some reason their magic still has an effect on me, and mine on them," Harry said, his voice dropping into a bitter tone. "Madam Pomfrey is looking into it but we have no idea why at the moment. She says that our souls are completely bonded, so I _should_ be the same, but for some reason I'm not."

"We will figure it out, Harry," Hermione said, reaching over to take hold of one of his hands. "It's not hurting us, whatever it is, so we have time to figure it out."

His only response was an inarticulate grunt but his posture relaxed slightly at the touch of her hand, and again when Susan and Daphne both reached for the opposite hand and shoulder.

"I am sure that Poppy is doing all she can to find an explanation," the professor stated calmly. "However if there is any way that I can be of assistance, please, do not hesitate to let me know." She paused as the teens murmured their assent before turning her attention to Blaise and Neville. "The two of you may head out," she said. "I have one last thing I would like to discuss with these four and they will be right along behind you. It isn't long now until breakfast will be served in the Great Hall and the Headmaster has an announcement for the school that you won't want to miss."

The two boys shared a quick look before they stood and said goodbye to their friends, making their way out of her office and closing the door quietly behind them as the four remaining teens regarded her with expressions of interest and curiosity on their faces.

"I was hoping that I might impose upon you for a small bit of assistance, Lord Potter," she said after taking a moment to organize her thoughts. This was the entire reason she'd been looking for them that morning and she wanted to get things out of the way quickly, as a decision needed to be made.

"In what way?" Harry asked warily.

"Nothing untoward, I assure you. The Headmaster's announcement this morning will be to inform the students that our visiting guests will be arriving this evening, just prior to the evening meal. Originally they were going to arrive the night before the champions for the Tournament were to be chosen, but it was decided that they should come early to have a better chance to get to know our students and for us to get to know them. The point of this Tournament _is_ to foster better international relations, after all."

Harry blinked in surprise before shooting a look to the girls on either side of him, all three of whom looked as confused as he apparently felt before his attention shifted back to her.

"What does that have to do with us?" he asked.

"It was felt by some of the staff that it would not be a bad idea to have a student ambassador to the other schools. Someone who might offer them a tour of the grounds and perhaps answer questions about the school and life here at Hogwarts."

"Isn't that kind of thing something that the Head Boy and Girl would be better suited for?" Hermione asked. "I mean… these visiting students are all going to be older than Harry, aren't they? They have to be of age if they're going to be entering their names for the Tournament."

"True, and normally that would be precisely how we would arrange things. It was felt that there were some possible advantages to asking Lord Potter to represent us, and you three ladies as well. The four of you together would serve in this function."

"This doesn't have anything to do with the whole Boy-Who-Lived garbage does it?" Harry bit out in a suspicious tone and the professor let out a sigh.

"I would like to say that it serves absolutely no part of the decision but I can't truthfully say that. Whether you like it or not, you _are_ a well known individual, and that might help you in at least gaining the visiting student's attention, if not their immediate respect. _My_ primary motivation for considering you, however, is that I do believe you and your friends probably know this school better than almost anyone.

"Considering the adventures you've gotten into over the last three years, I've no doubt that you know more passages and secrets about this school than any other student, save perhaps the Weasley twins, and I couldn't possibly request the help of those two degenerates, not unless I wanted to set us up for an international incident."

The four of them chuckled at that, nodding knowingly for a moment before Harry sighed and straightened up in his seat. "What exactly would being a 'student ambassador' include?" he asked. "I'm happy to help if the girls are, but I wouldn't want all of our time taken up with this position."

"It really sounds more impressive than it is," she admitted, feeling slightly hopeful. "It mostly consists of the four of you greeting our guests after dinner this evening and arranging a time and place to meet tomorrow to offer those interested a tour of the grounds. I'm sure that you would be more than capable of managing a few short hours doing that and once that is complete you are free to return to your own activities."

"What do you think?" he asked, leaning back in his seat so he could glance at the girls on either side of him.

"It could be fun to meet the other students," Hermione admitted. "I haven't been able to find much information on Durmstrang and I'd love to speak with some of them about their lessons."

"Between Hermione and me, we know enough of the history behind the school to answer a fair number of questions they might have," Daphne added in a thoughtful tone. "Susan could give them a tour of the Hospital Wing, and you know so many secrets and interesting little out of the way corners of the school that I'm certain we could put together an engaging tour."

"So you think we should agree?"

The girls looked past him, exchanging a silent look for a moment before all three nodded in perfect unison.

Harry sighed and shrugged his shoulders, turning his eyes back to their Head of House. "Looks like you have a quartet of Student Ambassadors, Professor."

#####

"How are things going with getting your remote viewing under control?" Neville asked half an hour later as the four bonded joined him at the Gryffindor Table for breakfast.

Daphne and Hermione immediately started filling plates for all four of them while Harry merely gave Susan a bewildered look for a moment before turning his attention back to the once shy and unassuming boy seated across from him.

"Remote viewing?" he asked in a mildly bemused tone.

"Well what would you call it? That whole being able to see what the girls are seeing and vice versa?"

"We hadn't actually tried to name it," Hermione said as she handed Harry his plate, "but that's as good a name as any. As far as controlling it…" She trailed off with a grimace while beside her, Harry cast a slightly wistful look in the direction of the Hufflepuff table where the new Inter-House Team were having breakfast together.

"As far as controlling it goes, we've figured out how to do it on purpose," Harry said, turning firmly away from the team, placing his hand gently over Hermione's where it rested on the table by her plate. "Stopping it from happening when we don't mean it to hasn't had the same kind of success."

"How do you do it intentionally?" Neville asked curiously.

"I didn't mean to!" Susan burst out as Harry flashed her a grin, her cheeks flushing brightly.

"We know, love," Daphne reassured her, "don't worry about it."

"It turns out," Harry continued, "that vision can only be sent. I couldn't invade one of the girls' vision without their permission or something. But, if I wanted one, or all of them, to see something that I was looking at I would focus my thoughts on them, reach for them through our bond, and send them my sight. It's similar to how we can purposely send feelings, but slightly different."

"It's not exactly easy to explain," Daphne added, calmly rubbing Susan's arm in a soothing manner as the redhead sat hunched over her plate, her head down and face hidden as best she could manage. "It's really something that needs to be experienced to truly understand it."

Conversation became nearly impossible at that point as the air was suddenly filled with the sound of beating wings, signaling the arrival of the morning post. Students throughout the Hall looked up, searching for a familiar bird amongst the parliament of owls circling and wheeling through the air above their heads.

Hedwig stood out amongst the lot, her brilliant white plumage easily spotted amongst the various shades of black and brown as she led a beautiful eagle owl through the chaos and directly to Harry. The two birds settled on the table in front of him and he already had a piece of bacon in hand to offer to his familiar.

"How're you doing today, Hedwig?" he asked, gently stroking her feathers as she gobbled down her treat. "Making friends?"

Hedwig barked softly and bobbed her head.

"I don't need to give _him_ the shovel speech, do I?" he asked, amusement spreading across the bond as his girls watched the always unusual interaction between wizard and bird for a few moments before turning their attention elsewhere.

Hedwig's response was an indignant sounding squawk and she nipped one of his fingers with her beak.

"Ouch! Okay, not that kind of a friend, I get the message."

That said, he turned his attention to the new owl, immediately spotting the harness the bird was wearing and, more importantly, the medallion with the Gringotts crest stamped on it affixed in the center of his chest. A search back through his memories reminded Harry that he'd already received his monthly update on his accounts. _So why would I be getting a letter from the bank?_ he thought.

"Read it and find out, Harry," Daphne absently spoke up from Susan's other side, most of her focus devoted to the plate in front of her.

He nodded and removed the letter from the owl who flew off as soon as he was relieved of his burden. None of the bonded noted the way Neville looked back and forth between Harry and Daphne, a bewildered expression on his face.

Harry unrolled the letter and read it there at the table.

 _Warrior Potter-_

 _I write to you today to remind you of a conversation that we had some years ago. As you know, we goblins attempt not to involve ourselves in wizarding matters, however the situation as it stands would mean changes to your accounts with us here at Gringotts, so I find myself moved to reach out to you on this matter._

 _Our records indicate that you completed the bond that you started with the three young ladies that we know to be your bond mates. We have spoken of them before. First, I would like to congratulate you on this. Goblins are not capable of bonding as you humans do, so I can only imagine how fulfilling such a bond can be._

 _Second, and the primary purpose behind this letter, is that our records do_ not _indicate that you have claimed the ladies as your wives. I do not believe there is any particular rush needed in doing so, but, in case you have forgotten, I felt I needed to remind you. When we met during your first year, you and the young ladies were considered betrothed as far as Gringotts and Magic were concerned. Now that your bond is complete, all you need do is publicly claim the girls as your wives for magic to effectively make it so._

 _This declaration should be made before at least a hundred magical witnesses and the related documents will automatically be filed with both Gringotts and the appropriate departments within your Ministry of Magic. Once your marriage is official we will need to discuss what access your wives will have to your accounts, properties, and so on._

 _Do let me know when would be a good time for us to meet to discuss that._

 _Accounts Manager Sharpshard_

 _Holy shite, I forgot about that!_

"Forgot about what?" Susan asked, looking up at Harry.

"Language, Harry," Hermione admonished from his other side as Daphne also lifted her head, all three girls' attention now fixed solely on him while Neville swiveled his gaze back and forth between them, even more confused than ever.

Harry quickly folded up the letter, panic gripping him for a moment before he shoved it away and tried to think rationally about the situation.

"Ummm… I… Just a letter from Sharpshard," he said, flushing brightly and doing his best not to stammer, something that only served to worry the girls and focus their attention even more intently on him.

"Is something wrong?" Hermione asked in concern.

Harry let out a laugh, the sound bubbling up out of him before he could stop it. "Not… not 'wrong' exactly… just more…" He trailed off and closed his eyes, slamming his Occlumency shields as tight as he could and he took several deep breaths, trying to regain some manner of control over himself.

"It's… Sharpshard was just reminding me about something he told me back when we first met. I'd forgotten all about it but he says that it's something I should be aware of again and wants to know when we can meet to discuss it."

"Is it something we could help with?" Susan asked.

"Well… actually probably, yeah." He frowned at the folded over piece of parchment in his hand, his mind spinning rapidly for a few moments before he stuffed the letter into his pocket. "If you don't mind, I think I'd like to try and figure it out for myself first. Again, it's not a bad thing, and I'll definitely _need_ to discuss it with you girls soon enough. I just feel like I should make an effort on my own first, if that makes any sense at all?"

They nodded slowly. "That's fine, Harry," Hermione told him, gently placing one hand on top of his where he'd placed it on the table.

"But don't feel like you can't talk to us if you need help, okay?" Susan added.

"Even if it's something embarrassing."

"Why would you think it was something embarrassing?" Harry asked Daphne.

"Are any of you ever going to remember that we can feel what each other is feeling at any given moment?" she asked, exasperated. "It's like you guys honestly forget that we all know how the others feel all the time."

Harry, Susan, and Hermione all flushed, looking properly chastised and Daphne grinned, pleased with herself.

"I'll be discussing it with all three of you sooner than later," Harry hastened to assure them. "I just really want to try and wrap my head around everything before that." He glanced down at his half empty plate and pushed it toward Hedwig. "Have at the rest of my bacon if you want, Hedwig," he told her while he pushed himself to his feet, turning his attention back to his girls. "I think I'm gonna go for a walk for a bit. I'll find you girls later?"

The three of them nodded and he gave a little wave to Neville before he left the Great Hall, fully intent on seeking out some advice.

#####

She looked up from the parchment work spread across her desk, eyeing the man sprawled comfortably in one of her wing back chairs, his brow creased as he read through a small pile of correspondence. She really wasn't entirely certain what to make of his presence, and the fact that she wasn't certain irritated her more than the mystery itself. Amelia leaned back in her seat after setting her quill down on her desk and took his distracted state as a chance to study Sirius Black in closer detail.

He looked better than ever, healthy, strong. His black hair was thick and shiny. His skin was clean and shone with health instead of being waxy and stretched over his skeleton. He was dressed immaculately in dark tones. Long sleeved dress shirt and slacks, leather loafers on his feet, and expensive robes draped over the back of a second chair. For a brief moment she was distracted by the realization that both of the dark men in her life, Sirius and Harry, tended to dress in dark colors, black being the predominant choice. Idly, she wondered if that had anything to do with the pain and trauma both had suffered over the years.

"Amy?"

She blinked in surprise, her eyes focusing on him again to realize that he'd lowered the letter he was reading and was giving her a curious look, dark eyes glittering in the light streaming through the window of her study.

"Something wrong? You seemed kind of out of it there."

"What are you going to do?" she blurted out, surprised at herself for getting distracted and for not noticing that he'd become aware of her scrutiny.

Sirius tilted his head to one side, curiosity giving way to confusion.

"About what?"

"I mean you've been out of the hospital for nearly two months. You escaped Azkaban more than a year ago now. Have you considered what you're going to do with your life? You're more than entitled to take your time deciding, but I remember you as a man that couldn't sit still if someone hit him with a stunner. I can't imagine you just want to laze around doing nothing all day."

He shrugged.

"I haven't really given it a lot of thought. Some. But not a lot. Mostly I've just been dealing with the Black accounts and trying to familiarize myself with what's been going on in the Wizengamot. Other than that and wanting to be around for Harry I haven't considered it."

"You were one hell of an Auror," she pointed out after a moment's hesitation.

He blanched at that, his face twisting into a grimace. "I honestly don't think I could ever work for the Ministry again," he told her quietly. "I understand, the vast majority of people there aren't to blame for what happened. They weren't a part of the decision that threw me in my little Island Paradise. Still… I _was_ an Auror with a decorated file, and I was thrown out with the rubbish. I'm not holding any grudges, but I don't think I can just forget it either."

He suddenly quirked a roguish grin in her direction. "Or does this having something to do with you wanting to be able to order me around and I'd have to obey, Madam Director?"

She glared at him, half heartedly. "You already obey when I order you around," she sniffed haughtily. "You're ever such a good doggy."

Sirius barked out a laugh, quickly turning it into a groan and holding one hand to his chest. "You wound me, Amy."

Her lips turned up into a small smile but she said nothing.

"Sirius Black."

Sirius and Amy both sat up in their respective seats, heads swiveling about for a moment, trying to pinpoint the sound of the new voice that intruded on their discussion when they heard it again. "Sirius! Answer me you old mutt!"

Sirius jumped out of his seat, moving over to snatch up his robes, digging around in the pockets until he came up with a small round hand mirror, quickly tapping it with his wand as his face broke out into a huge grin.

"Pup!" he cried, staring into the mirror. "Gotta say it's good to hear from you but I didn't think you'd be calling so soon. Something on your mind?"

In the mirror, Sirius watched as Harry sighed and ran a hand back through his hair, causing it to stick up in all directions, even more than usual. The fact that his hair very nearly brushed his shoulders now only made the look even more ridiculous.

"I've… I've got a bit of a problem, Padfoot."

Waving his wand again, Sirius conjured a small stand on the edge of Amy's desk, setting the mirror on it before he dragged a straight backed chair over and straddled it, resting his forearms on the chair back and leveling a steady gaze at the mirror.

"Lay it on me, pup," he said. "I'm all ears."

Quickly, Harry gave Sirius an overview of what he'd learned from the letter he'd received from Sharpshard and then waited for several moments after he finished for some reaction from the wizard.

"I'm not sure I'm seeing the problem here, pup," Sirius admitted after a short silence. "You've got three beautiful girls that think the world of you _and_ you get to skip the whole begging for a date and planning how to propose thing. You're living most men's dream kid!"

"Sirius!" Harry groaned and rubbed his free hand over his face for a moment before he glared into the mirror. "Where's Amelia?" he asked. "I should have asked to talk to her from the beginning."

Eyes wide Sirius waved both hands in front of him at the suggestion. "No!" he burst out. "No Amelia here. Just us old dogs."

"You're at the Boneyard, Sirius, I recognize the chairs," Harry responded dryly.

Sirius looked down at the chair he was straddling and cursed. Caught out, Sirius Black did what he did best when trying to get his own way, he resorted to begging. "Look, Pup... Harry, give me a shot here, please?"

Harry's expression was doubtful and Sirius pushed forward. "I screwed up, years ago. I screwed up and I wasn't there for you when I should have been. I hexed myself in the foot again a few weeks ago, pushing when I should have backed off. Please. I'm sorry if I was flippant, but I really want you to be able to come to me if you need to, and I promise I'll be as serious as you'll ever see me, no pun intended. And look!" Sirius snatched the mirror off the stand he'd conjured and turned it so Harry could see Amy where she was sitting, smirking at him, across her desk.

"Look, Amy is right there, she can hear the whole conversation. If I say something stupid you know she'll set me straight. And what about that day in the Hospital Wing after the Dementor attack? I had some decent advice then, didn't I? I'm not entirely hopeless." He set the mirror back on the stand and held both hands in front of him in supplication for a moment before suddenly shifting to Padfoot, front paws on the back of the chair as he gave his best puppy dog eyes and let out the most piteous, pathetic whine he could manage.

Yes, if it got him some brownie points with his godson, Sirius Black was not above begging in the slightest.

Harry burst out laughing at the sight. "Okay! All right already, just stop. It's embarrassing to watch a grown man beg!"

Changing back, Sirius let out a triumphant cheer, heedless of the way Harry and Amelia were both laughing at his behavior. He gave them some time before clearing his throat loudly to get their attention.

"If we could focus, please?" he asked. "Godfather trying to be helpful over here."

Once they had themselves under control Sirius leaned forward in his seat, his arms once again resting on the chair back and focused his attention on the small image of his godson.

"Okay, not being flippant, joking, or anything of the sort, _but_ I honestly am not entirely certain what the problem is here, Harry. Do you think you could break this down a bit for me? Give me an idea of your concerns?"

Harry sighed and stroked the scar behind his jaw with the index finger of his right hand, something Sirius had noticed him do in the past and figured it was a nervous tick. He idly made a mental note to see about training that tick out of him, visual cues like that were not a weakness one needed once the lad was old enough to take his seat on the Wizengamot.

"It's just… Sirius, we're practically _married_! How… I mean, is there a girl in the world that wants to just be told 'oh, by the way you're married already'? What about the whole dating, getting proposed to, having an actual wedding? I understand the vast majority of women in the world kind of enjoy that whole process to a point, don't they?"

Sirius nodded thoughtfully while Harry talked. "Alright, I see what you're saying. Let's set that aside for just a second though, I'd like to get a quick question out of the way first. From what I understand you haven't always been sure that you were actually in love with your girls, or they with you. Are you sure? Are _you_ confident that you love them? That you won't want to try being with someone else in the future?"

Harry immediately shook his head. "No, Padfoot. I've been a right idiot, I know it. It might not entirely be my fault, I kind of had it trained into me but I get it now. I was worried about a lot of things that really don't matter. The girls have been very clear that they want this, they want the four of us together and I can't imagine life without them in it. I get that fourteen is a bit young to be positive I've found the girls I'm going to spend the rest of my life with but… well, we're bonded.

"I can't picture trying to get close to anyone else. We understand each other better than I could ever understand another person. There's no way I could be with anyone but them. I finally understand and I'm done doubting. We'll take our relationship at our pace but I really only see one end point for us."

Sirius was beaming by the time he finished. "That's great, Harry," he said softly. "That's fantastic. So… moving back to your points. Dating, proposal, wedding, and so on. Well… have you considered the fact that you've technically been dating for three years now?"

Harry gave him a blank look through the mirror. "Padfoot? We've never been on a date."

"Maybe not technically in the get dressed up, go out to dinner, and such. But you four have spent nearly every waking moment together. You train together. Eat nearly every meal together. You study together. You do almost _everything_ together. Dating is for getting to know someone, spending time with them and trying to decide if that person is someone you want to spend even more time with. I'm pretty sure you guys are kind of past the dating stage at this point.

"As far as a proposal goes. You could still do that. You _could_ ask the girls to marry you and I'd bet anything that they'd all say yes in a heartbeat. As far as a wedding goes. If you make your declaration, and they legally become your wives, you could still hold a wedding ceremony. Have a party and invite your friends and families to celebrate with you. This situation… it doesn't mean that you can't still give them those things, if you, and they, want them."

Harry's expression was thoughtful, carefully turning over everything Sirius said in his mind before a hesitant sounding noise escaped the former convict and his eyes focused through the mirror on Sirius' face.

"Everything about what you _want_ to do aside, I think you should be aware of how this change would impact your lives." Sirius fidgeted slightly in his seat, carefully keeping his gaze away from Amelia as he wasn't certain he wanted to see her expression when he asked the next question he had.

"Harry… I hate to, but I kind of have to ask, and you're welcome to tell me where to shove it, but it's somewhat important."

"Sirius…" Amelia trailed off, a warning note in her voice and he winced but pushed forward.

"I know you love your girls, and that they love you, but are they as in love with each other?"

The light in Harry's eyes brightened even as his expression hardened.

"Shove it up your ass, Padfoot."

"Not being a pervy old dog here, kid, I promise you. Look, you might have heard that wizarding society, in particular British wizarding society, isn't exactly accepting of same sex relationships, right?"

Warily, Harry nodded.

"Well there's actually a reason for that, it's not just prejudice. It doesn't make it right, and it's still stupid, but it's there."

"What?"

"The big thing, especially with Houses like yours, mine, Susan, and Daphne's, is the continuation of the bloodline. Say, as a hypothetical, if there was no bond and Susan and Daphne fell in love, the two of them would catch a lot of backlash from society because there's no way for two women to conceive and carry children. Now, if they were willing to get pregnant by some man, each of them marrying a different wizard but staying together… well society would mostly ignore it, even if it was something widely known, as long as they were doing their 'duty' of continuing their family lines and being discreet about their relationship.

"If this marriage is announced, your girls are going to catch a lot of scrutiny. People are going to ask questions. The worst sort of people but still, it's there and it'll get tongues wagging. They need to be certain they're ready and willing to weather that storm before you guys go public. And that's just one problem that could be facing you guys. There's potentially political ramifications of the union of those three Houses between you and Susan and Daphne. People in the political arena would start paying much closer attention to the four of you. Attention that you probably don't want.

"Actually," Sirius paused, frowning as a thought occurred to him. "Is there any immediate rush on this? Like, do you guys _have_ to accept the marriage by a certain time or something to that effect?"

Harry frowned. "I don't think so. Sharpshard's letter said that he didn't feel there was any particular hurry on it but he still wanted to discuss how things would change with my accounts when it happened."

"Then if there's no hurry, why not just don't do it? Take the girls on some dates. Plan to propose to them at some point in the future. If you don't absolutely _have_ to be married right now, take the time to just keep being a teenager and worry about the rest later when you're all ready for it. Also, first and foremost, above anything else," Sirius paused and leaned forward, keeping the most serious look on his face that he could muster in an attempt to drive home the importance of his point, " _talk to the girls_. Even if you have to ruin the surprise that you intend to ask them to marry you one day this is absolutely _not_ something that you should be trying to decide without their input and opinions."

In the mirror, Harry was nodding his head. "Don't worry about that. I've already told them I'd discuss it with them soon, I just wanted to try and get some things straight in my head first. I hadn't considered the politics, or the way people would talk. I don't care if people talk about me, but I won't put up with them saying anything bad about my girls."

Harry's voice dropped into a low growl at the end and Sirius honestly didn't think he'd ever felt prouder of the pup. He could appreciate that mindset just as well as the next man.

His attention was brought back to the mirror when he heard his godson let out a long sigh.

"Well… I guess I should go find them. I'll talk to you later, Padfoot."

"No worries, Pup. Good luck."

"Thanks, and… Padfoot?"

"Yeah?" Sirius paused in the act of reaching for the mirror to focus on the intense green eyes shining through at him.

"Thanks for the advice. That was actually really helpful."

Sirius grinned. "I'm trying."

The last thing Sirius saw before the mirror shimmered and disconnected was a bright smile on his godson's face. Once his own mug stared back at him in the mirrors reflection he tucked it back into his pocket and made his way over to his original wingback chair to pick up the few letters he hadn't finished reading yet.

"Siri?"

He looked up from his letter to find Amelia leaning forward in her seat, her forearms resting on her desk and an inscrutable look in her deep blue eyes as she stared intently at him.

"Amy?" he replied warily, wondering just what he'd done wrong.

"That was… that was really good, Sirius. You handled that just as well as I might have."

His mouth dropped open in surprise for a moment before snapping shut and he shrugged self-consciously. "I'm pretty sure you would have done a much better job than me. But I meant it, I'm trying."

He was just about to turn his attention back to his letters when her voice saying his name stopped him again and he looked back up at her.

"If you're still on for dinner, I'm free tomorrow," she said, her own eyes directed at her work. As such she didn't see the broad smile that formed across his lips.

"Seven work for you?"

"Seven is fine."

Still smiling, Sirius tried to focus on his mail, already making plans in his head for where he wanted to take her.

#####

As the day progressed, Harry found himself feeling more and more annoyed. Maybe not annoyed. Mildly irritated, perhaps. No matter how he described the feeling, the fact remained that he wanted to speak to his girls, alone, but never seemed to find the opportunity. They had assignments to work on and with the Headmaster's announcement at breakfast about the early arrival of the visiting schools, the rest of the student body had been abuzz.

No matter where they went, people approached them to ask what they thought or to ask Hermione what she knew of the two foreign institutions. That probably accounted for the lion's share of his irritation, actually. Hermione wasn't used to being the object of so much direct attention and, combined with the frequent interruptions preventing her from studying, she was getting increasingly flustered as the day wore on.

It eventually took a few cutting remarks from Daphne, along with a heavy dose of glaring from Harry, before they were left, mostly, alone. By that time, however, Hermione was set on studying without interruption and Harry didn't think that cutting in would be a good idea. The rest of the afternoon was spent on their school work leading right up to the time when they needed to get ready for the Feast.

"Don't worry, Harry."

Harry turned his attention to Luna where she stood beside him with the rest of the Gryffindors on the front lawn outside the castle waiting for the visiting schools to arrive. Normally, she would have been with her House, but as she was under his protection, shown by the Potter crest that still decorated the left shoulder of her robes, he had decided to insist that she stand with him. He was fairly sure he saw Professor McGonagall smile when she spotted the tiny blond, but dismissed it as a figment of his imagination.

"What's that, Luna?" he asked and she smiled up at him.

"Don't worry," she said again. "You're not in a rush, so talk to them when you get a chance."

Harry quirked a brow at her and, not for the first time, considered the fact that Luna always seemed to know a lot more of what was going on than should be possible.

"What do you know, Luna?" he couldn't help but ask.

Luna favored him with a soft smile, her eyes shining brightly in the torchlight. "I know a lot of things, Harry. I _am_ in Ravenclaw and we are known for our intelligence."

Before he could respond, the Heads of the Houses were moving amongst the assembled students, organizing them into lines.

"Weasley, straighten you hat," Professor McGonagall snapped at Ron where he was standing with Dean and Seamus. "Miss. Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair."

Parvati scowled and removed a large decorative butterfly from the end of her plait.

The professor stood before the rows of her students and observed them for a moment in silence before giving a satisfied nod of her head. "Excellent," she stated calmly. "The delegations from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons will be arriving shortly and I will be _very_ put out if we do not put our best foot forward."

 _If you want the best, just let_ my _girls meet them,_ Harry thought, casting a sidelong look at the girls standing in the row beside him.

Daphne and Susan had each braided their hair in such a way that it fell forward over their left and right shoulders respectively, while Hermione's wild mane had been tamed into soft ringlets that fell in waves to the small of her back. For three girls that he'd long said were some of the most beautiful he'd ever known, they had never looked more lovely, even in the simple school uniforms.

Susan and Hermione both flushed slightly and Daphne leaned toward him as he felt a stirring of gratitude through their bond.

"Thank you for that, Harry," Daphne whispered, all three of them smiling softly at him.

"Sorry," he muttered, flushing a bit himself. "I didn't realize I said that out loud."

Beside him, Luna giggled, lifting one hand to her mouth in a vain effort to stifle the small sound.

"And just what are you giggling about, little Luna?" he asked in a teasing manner.

Her sing-song response of 'nothing' struck Harry as very unconvincing, but he let it go, happy to see her enjoying herself. Nearby, he could hear a few of the other students talking amongst themselves as they waited.

"Almost six o'clock," Ron muttered, checking his watch. "How do you think they're going to get here? Portkey? Or they could Apparate? Maybe they're allowed to do it under seventeen where they're from."

Hermione made a scoffing sound.

 _It's impossible to Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds. Honestly!_

"Harry? You okay?"

Harry turned his attention to Susan who was studying him curiously.

"I… I-I'm not exactly sure," he stammered, his eyes turning back to where he'd been watching Hermione.

 _I heard her voice,_ he thought. _I'm sure I did, but… her_ mouth _didn't move! She didn't actually_ say _anything. Wait… maybe earlier I didn't actually speak out loud? Did they hear what I was thinking?_

Another giggle caught his attention and he shot a look at Luna who was smiling broadly at him but before he could say anything a loud crash tore his attention away from her and toward the open lawn in front of the castle where a powder blue, horse-drawn carriage the size of a large house had just touched down. A dozen winged horses, each as large as an elephant were harnessed to the carriage.

Harry turned away from the carriage, and the people that began exiting it, to focus on Luna once again. She _knew_ something, he was sure of it. She seemed awfully amused by it, too.

 _Or maybe she just thought it was funny that you didn't notice it before, Potter,_ he thought.

Absently, most of her attention focused on the carriage in front of them, Susan spoke up. "Didn't notice what, Harry?" she asked.

A snort behind him had Harry turning to look over his shoulder at Neville and the expression on the other boy's face told him that their friend had noticed the same thing Luna had. Harry glared at him slightly, but Neville simply smiled in return.

"Harry?" Hermione asked. He looked back to find all three of his girls now looking at him and he shook his head, giving them a reassuring smile.

"Later," he told them. "It's nothing that won't keep for now."

"Well, while you were distracted you missed the other schools arriving," Daphne pointed out.

Blinking in surprise he looked around only to find that she was right. On the surface of the lake, a large sailing ship floated, gangplank extended toward the shore, and the Hogwarts students had begun making their way back into the school.

"I had a good reason, I promise," he said by way of explanation. "Come on, let's go see what I missed."

Together, the four of them started toward the Great Hall, Neville and Luna falling into step with them. With what was left to come that evening, Harry realized he might not actually get a chance to talk to his girls as he'd planned. However, he also realized that he'd been correct with what he'd told them. Their needed conversation was nothing that wouldn't keep, for now. They could afford to wait.

#####

"I just don't understand why they wouldn't wear something warmer when they knew they would be coming to Northern Scotland," Hermione insisted some time later during the Feast. "I mean, even in mid-September it's not exactly warm around here."

Harry looked over at the students from Beauxbatons where they were sitting at the Ravenclaw table near Luna. She had, unfortunately, been required to sit with her House after they re-entered the school and was now engaged in conversation with one of the silk robed students of the French school. Most, if not all, of them were shivering slightly in their light weight, thin uniforms.

"Imagine how bad it would be if they'd actually arrived at the end of October as they were supposed to," he commented, turning back to the table and his friends. "They'd really be cold then."

There were general murmurs at that, as most of those in earshot continued eating or chatting with their neighbors, and Harry took the opportunity to look around the hall again at the new additions. The students from Durmstrang were seated at the Slytherin table and overall looked much more comfortable in their heavy cloaks then the lot from Beauxbatons. Harry noticed the scowling visage of Viktor Krum, looking particularly annoyed and seated next to Malfoy of all people. He could understand why the surly Quidditch star seemed irritated with his seating arrangement and felt a pang of sympathy for the older boy.

At the Head Table, the visiting Heads of the foreign schools were both talking with Dumbledore where he sat between them and on Madame Maxime's other side, Umbridge looked extremely uncomfortable, edging as far away from the large woman as she could while still remaining in her seat.

"Think we'll get lucky and Umbridge will have a coronary?" he asked, causing a few amused snorts amongst his friends.

"I don't know why that _woman_ had to be put in charge of this," Susan muttered darkly, stabbing her fork into her steak and kidney pie.

"Well, it doesn't really matter to us, right?" Neville offered. "She's only here because of the tournament and none of us are going to be involved in that."

"Unless we want to participate in the dueling tournament," Daphne corrected him.

"I wouldn't put it past her to try to mess with Harry though, no matter what," Susan said. "He's humiliated her, twice, and she's very much the type to hold a grudge."

Seeing that a change in topic was in order, preferably before Susan completely murdered her dinner, Harry opened his mouth to bring up what he'd noticed outside when an accented, yet melodious voice cut him off.

"Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouilla- 'ARRY?!"

As Harry was turning to face the owner of the voice behind him, the softly spoken question changed mid-sentence into a startled shriek and the next thing he knew he appeared to be caught in a whirlwind of pale blond hair, blue silk, and a delicate, floral scent as a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders. Soft lips suddenly descended on his cheeks before they covered his own lips and he let out a yelp at the sudden attack.

Before he could even attempt to react in some way, the girl pulled away, blue eyes bright as she darted to the side and similarly attacked Daphne. Off balance as he was, even Harry noticed how the Great Hall had gone deathly silent and he imagined more than a few jaws were hanging open in shock as an absolutely gorgeous girl drew Daphne into a searing kiss, despite her muffled protests.


End file.
